Mean Sisters

by Lindsay Emory

  It was when I was placing the folder in the drawer that I found the address book. A plain, black book, it had no markings to indicate whether it was official Delta Beta issue or for personal use. I suspected it was personal, just because it didn’t have a honeybee on it (our sorority symbol), nor a yellow rose (our sorority flower), nor a picture of a topaz (our sorority jewel).

  Remembering what Aubrey and Hatfield had told me about Liza’s family, I got excited when I opened the book, hoping against hope that there was a name or a number of someone who would want to get the news of Liza’s passing. Maybe I would even make the call myself. I imagined the tears, the heartbreak, the jagged voice of a long-lost cousin thanking me for finding them so that they could do the right thing for Liza.

  I flipped open to the ‘A’ page. It was empty. ‘B’ was also empty. ‘C’ was where the entries started. They continued through ‘D’, ‘E’, ‘F’, rows of incomprehensible letters, followed by ten numbers, then followed by either numbers, letters, or a mix. The first set of letters could have been names, maybe. Some of them were pronounceable and some had lots of consonants and no vowels which, unless Liza knew a whole lot of Eastern Europeans, didn’t make much sense. Out of frustration, I flipped to the ‘M’ page, in the vain hope that I’d see an entry like, ‘McCarthy, Long-Lost Cousin Ed.’ But there was just more of the same: two lines with letters, then ten numbers, then a shorter mix of letters. Clearly, this was some sort of secret journal, but it could have been for anything from her investments, to her internet passwords, to her sociology class’s grading system.

  I was staring at the address book when I heard the door lock slide. The door opened and Callie Campbell walked through.

  ‘Oh!’ Callie froze when she saw me. ‘Sorry! I was just …’

  ‘Come in,’ I said, getting up and shoving the pile meant for the sociology department off the chair on the other side of the desk. ‘Sit down,’ I invited her. ‘I’m just cleaning up in here. What can I help you with?’

  Callie quickly sat down, an anxious look on her face. It was obvious she was stressed, poor girl. Who wouldn’t be, under these circumstances?

  When she pushed a strand of long blond hair behind her ear, I could see she was trembling. ‘Callie? Honey, tell me what’s wrong.’

  ‘N-nothing.’ She took a shallow breath then followed with that brilliant smile, bracketed by those adorable dimples. ‘I’m S&M director, you know …’

  ‘Yes,’ I placed my hand on the drawer pull where I had placed the forms earlier. ‘I’ve been reviewing Liza’s papers.’

  ‘Oh?’ Callie’s hazel gaze swept the piles on the desk. ‘‘Cause I came to see … if I could help, or I can just get them, keep them. You know, help you out.’

  What a sweetheart. Putting me first even though she was clearly overcome with the emotions of being in Liza’s office. ‘Callie, I just don’t think that’s appropriate. As Chapter Advisor, I should really keep all the S&M forms. Especially with the subject matter.’

  Callie nodded and pushed her hair behind her ear again. ‘I see.’

  ‘Especially with the hearing in three days.’

  Callie’s eyes widened. ‘Three days?’

  Maybe I had it wrong. I checked my monogrammed calendar. ‘No. Stefanie Grossman. Saturday at two pm.’

  ‘Oh.’ Callie’s shoulders relaxed. ‘Yeah. Stefanie.’

  I made a sympathetic face at the note of defeat in Callie’s voice. ‘I know it’s hard when you have to go through this with a sister.’ Callie still looked distressed. ‘When was the last time you saw Stefanie?’

  Callie’s brows drew together. ‘It’s been weeks. She wasn’t happy when she got written up. She just disappeared.’

  I nodded. Sisters rarely were happy to be brought up on standards and morals and often tried to bring other sisters down with them, or claim that favouritism was at work. It seemed that Stefanie had taken the opposite route of just walking away. It was a defense mechanism, to protect herself from being judged by her friends.

  ‘Are you going to be able to do the hearing?’ I asked. S&M hearings could be so traumatic. If Callie was this upset about it now, she’d be in for a real shock when the final judgment came.

  Callie looked pained but nodded in the affirmative. I wouldn’t expect anything less from Mary Gerald Callahan’s great-great-great-great-granddaughter. Devotion to Delta Beta ran in the family, I was sure.

  ‘Anything else I should know about?’ I asked, hoping to distract her from the depressing topic.

  ‘The Alpha Kappa mixer on Friday,’ Callie said with some force.

  ‘What about it?’

  Callie crinkled her nose. ‘It’s traditionally … a busy time of year?’

  ‘You mean …’

  ‘It’s crazy. A lot of girls get written up when we party with the Alpha Kappas.’

  I smiled reassuringly at Callie. ‘Don’t worry, I know how to handle the Alpha Kappas,’ I said. After all, it wasn’t that long ago that I was on that dance floor at an Alpha Kappa mixer. I knew my way around a fraternity house or two. In a totally innocent way, of course.

  CHAPTER TEN

  After Callie left, I had one more project to tackle before the dinner triangle rang. The dinner triangle was an important, long-standing Deb tradition because a delta is a triangle. I know, that may seem fairly basic, but not all sorority traditions have to involve obscure Greek phrases.

  I booted up the Chapter Advisor’s computer, not really knowing what I’d find. All those years as a Sisterhood Mentor, I had focused entirely on the collegiate side of sorority life and had relatively little experience with the business affairs that came along with an advisor position. When the screen lit up, I could see from the desktop and a quick look at the saved documents that Liza hadn’t used the computer for any notes or correspondence. It looked like she used a web-based email system so I couldn’t even check any contacts for those long-lost relatives I had so briefly fantasised about. I wondered how that worked when someone died. Where did your Facebook and emails go? Did your Facebook stay suspended in the ether forever, a living testament to your last status update? What if it was something stupid, like ‘Going to the gym’? I shuddered at the thought of such an inadvertent legacy. I made a mental note to never post inane status updates and to leave my passwords with a good friend who could delete anything unfortunate in my browser history.

  Poking around, I could see the last document saved was from Quick Books. Finally, something I knew I could recognise. Rows of dollars and cents. I pulled the spreadsheet open and briefly reviewed the chapter’s finances. They seemed a little spotty at first glance, to tell the truth, but if finances had been a concern, you could bet that HQ would have alerted me on that before I left for Sutton. When a chapter’s not financially solvent, that’s the first thing a Sisterhood Mentor has to address on her to-do list.

  But something about the numbers caught my eye. I wasn’t quite sure what it was, but my brain was yelling that it didn’t look right. It didn’t hit me right away, which is one of the main reasons why I kept turning down a headquarters job in accounting. My brain added up numbers differently. Yeah, my college algebra professor didn’t buy that either.

  I was trying to focus, but then someone opened the door. Again. I guess Liza had had an open door policy. I wasn’t sure that was going to work for me.

  Headed in the door, caught a little off guard, was the Chapter President herself, Aubrey St. John. I wiped the annoyance off my face. This was the girl who’d shown me where the office was and helped me get acquainted with everything.

  She, on the other hand, was clearly startled by my presence. ‘I didn’t think you’d still be in here.’

  I frowned at her. ‘The door was unlocked.’

  ‘Right.’ Aubrey looked back at the door, her cell phone clutched in her hand. ‘I lost the key Liza gave me.’ She smiled charmingly. ‘President’s privilege. Sometimes I like to come in here and study.’

  What a good girl
she was. ‘You know, I bet the girls in the chapter really look up to you, with all your good habits.’

  Aubrey looked down at her toes in her Jack Rogers sandals, still immaculately pedicured, even in October. ‘I guess,’ she said.

  ‘I love your skirt,’ I said, admiring her wool kilt.

  ‘Thanks,’ she said, absently brushing the cloth. ‘You could borrow it if you’d like.’

  I surveyed Aubrey’s figure. Although I was about four inches taller than her, we might be the same size around. ‘It would probably be too short on me,’ I said. ‘But thanks for the offer. I get so tired of my clothes sometimes, wearing the same things from my suitcase.’

  Aubrey’s crystal blue eyes fixed on me. ‘Then come up and borrow something. Anytime. I’m used to sisters borrowing clothes.’

  My heart squeezed a little at that, it was so sweet.

  ‘What’s going on?’ I asked. Something told me she hadn’t come in to study. Something told me maybe she just needed to talk to someone.

  ‘I … I just came to see if you needed anything. If you don’t understand something, let me know and I’ll explain it to you. If you want.’ I looked at Aubrey closely. The words were right, but something was off in the delivery.

  ‘I swear, you all are so helpful around here!’

  ‘What do you have there?’ Aubrey asked, looking at the computer.

  ‘Chapter financials,’ I said. ‘I did have a few …’ I was interrupted by the sound of two loud male voices coming from the hall.

  Aubrey looked alarmed. Not a lot of men came into the Delta Beta house and when men didn’t enter often, their presence was mighty obvious. I was ready to storm out and set straight whatever sarcastic police officer thought he could barge in, but then I recognised the voice. It wasn’t a man, it was …

  ‘CASEY!’ I squealed, running to the door and straight into the arms of my best friend, Casey Kenner.

  I couldn’t believe he was here. I turned to introduce him to Aubrey and saw that she had come around to my side of the desk and was staring at the computer screen, her face pale, her mouth open.

  ‘Aubrey? What is it?’ I ran back around to her and put an arm around her shoulder. ‘Are you ok?’ It seemed I was asking that question every third minute lately.

  She saw Casey and was even more stunned, but she still couldn’t seem to close her mouth. I’d help her out, but that could be misinterpreted.

  ‘Aubrey, meet Casey Kenner, from headquarters. Casey, this is Aubrey St. John, Chapter President.’

  Casey smiled at Aubrey, with a big movie star smile that darn near sparkled like a toothpaste commercial. Let me tell you this, Casey is gorgeous with a capital G. When I was a little girl, I used to watch classic movies with my Grandma Fredrick in the summer. When I met Casey, I told him he was a dead ringer for Cary Grant and Rock Hudson’s love child. And Casey is so classy, he knew exactly what I meant by that. I’ll tell you something else. Casey is a man.

  I know, I know. You’re wondering why Casey isn’t my boyfriend if he’s so gorgeous and my best friend and he works for Delta Beta headquarters, right? You’re saying, ‘Margot, that Casey sounds like the perfect man.’ Unfortunately, I’m not Casey’s type. And if you’re wondering what that means, it means Casey likes men.

  You might also be wondering how Casey works for Delta Beta when he is a man. He applied for the job and simply failed to mention that fact. Since he has a gender-neutral name, he got an interview. And once he had that? Well, Casey’s a lot like me. People don’t turn him down very often. Casey’s a Delta Beta woman in all but the extra X chromosome. He grew up surrounded by Debs – his mama, his two sisters, his mama’s mama. Unfortunately, his daddy’s mama was a Tri Mu. He doesn’t talk about her much.

  Casey was a sight for sore eyes. He was dressed impeccably, as he always was. Today he wore a tweed coat with suede elbow patches, a purple striped Oxford shirt, loafers that probably cost more than a car payment and a scarf tossed just so over his shoulder. It takes a real man to wear a scarf.

  ‘What are you doing here?’ I squealed again before hugging him. I don’t really know why I was so excited to see him. Maybe I needed a break from all the grieving and dramatics at the house. I guess I was relieved to have my fun friend around to help me forget my troubles.

  ‘I brought the files from HQ you asked for.’ Casey pointed at the rolling briefcase behind him.

  ‘You’re too sweet,’ I said for Aubrey’s benefit. I’d known Casey for too long and knew that he drove across three states to bring me files he could have Fed Exed. Something big was going on, something he needed to be here for.

  Like the sweet girl she was, Aubrey excused herself quickly and when she did, I locked the door behind her. Casey gave the lock a pointed look. ‘You wouldn’t believe how busy it’s been in here,’ I said to explain the locked door before turning to him and crossing my arms. ‘Now. Shoot.’

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Casey’s eyes swept from side to side. ‘Is the room secure?’

  Normally, I would have laughed. But today the joke made me nervous. Hatfield’s visit and all the heightened emotions in the house had really put me on edge.

  ‘What’s in the briefcase?’ I asked, toeing the thing with trepidation. With Casey, one really never knew what he packed on trips. It was one of the things I loved about him. That and his talent at hair.

  Casey waved a hand. ‘The reports from HQ, like I said. They sent you like, ten years’ worth of documents.’ He rolled his eyes. Casey was a big picture person, like me. That’s why he was so good at public relations.

  ‘And Mabel asked me to come down.’

  I frowned. I had just talked to Mabel Donahue that morning. Ok, really early that morning.

  ‘Why?’ I asked.

  ‘Do you know the reason why they sent you here, to Sutton?’

  I shook my head. It wasn’t that big of a deal. I didn’t always know the reason for a chapter visit. There weren’t always specific reasons. Sometimes a chapter had a specific problem it needed help with, like rush or a problem with the university. But sometimes it was just a well-woman check-up. I was like a gynecologist that way.

  Casey’s face was grim. ‘A month ago, they got a call from Liza McCarthy, requesting a meeting in Atlanta at headquarters.’

  That was interesting. ‘How did that go?’

  Casey shook his head. ‘For some reason, a few days later, she called and canceled. Mabel said she was really upset and talked about quitting the Chapter Advisor position. That’s when Mabel decided that it was time for a Sisterhood Mentor to come and check out the chapter, generally speaking. She thought maybe it had gotten too stressful for some reason, or that there was something that Liza wasn’t telling her.’

  ‘Mabel didn’t say anything about any of this to me this morning,’ I said.

  Casey gave me a look that said he loved me but he thought I was ridiculous. ‘You called her at two in the morning.’

  ‘Why would I wait until morning to tell her someone died?’ Like that made sense.

  Casey ignored my question. ‘She didn’t really remember all this until the police officer called this morning, asking about Liza McCarthy.’

  I groaned at the mention of a police officer. ‘Hatfield.’

  ‘Who?’ Casey asked.

  ‘The police officer here who doesn’t understand sororities. He’s prejudiced.’

  Casey nodded. He understood. People could be intolerant to people like Casey.

  I still didn’t understand something. ‘So why did Mabel send you down here? Why didn’t she just call me and tell me all this?’

  Casey smiled like something was about to get good. ‘Because right after the po-po called, Mabel got another call from her hairdresser who also does the hair of a Mrs Barbra Kline.’

  My face was probably blank as a board. The name didn’t mean anything to me. I didn’t keep up with the sorority gossip scene like Casey did. I was too busy traveling the country and saving the
world.

  Casey rushed on, dying to get to the good stuff. ‘Mrs Barbra Kline is also known as Mabel’s counterpart at a certain organization we like to call Try Moo.’

  Mu Mu Mu. Also known as Tri Mu. Also known as Try Moo. Or simply, the Moos. Also known as Delta Beta’s sister sorority and archenemy. Yes, those two relationships coincide quite well, thank you.

  Hearing the Moos’ name sent a shiver all over me. ‘What did the hairdresser say about Mrs Kline?’

  ‘Mrs Kline told the hairdresser that it was a shame the Sutton chapter of Delta Beta was about to close so soon.’

  I sucked in a breath. ‘What? That cow!’

  ‘I know!’ Casey said, matching my indignation.

  My mind reeled with the news. So far, I had seen nothing that would indicate that the Sutton chapter was having any problems serious enough to warrant suspension of chapter activities or expulsion from the campus. So basically, that meant that …

  ‘Mrs Kline is a big fat liar!’

  Casey nodded like that was no big surprise. ‘But Mabel’s nervous that Barbra Kline knows something that she doesn’t. And she’s nervous about Liza’s death after that cop said that it wasn’t natural.’

  I tried not to let the worry wrinkles creep onto my face. My insurance wouldn’t cover the Botox. ‘He said pretty much the same thing to me.’

  ‘You know Mabel,’ Casey pointed out. ‘She’s a little paranoid about the Tri Mus.’

  I worked through the implications of all this strange, yet juicy information. ‘She doesn’t think that the Moos put a hit out on Liza, does she?’ I asked, lowering my voice in case the room was bugged. It was almost unbelievable. But these were Tri Mus we were talking about.

  My eyes widened as Casey nodded, slowly. I looked around the office again, wondering if it was secure. What did a bug or a mic look like, anyway? I’d have to tear the office apart again to make sure the Tri Mus didn’t have some secret listening device hidden away in here. I picked up a Delta Beta stuffed honeybee off the bookshelf. I hope I didn’t have to rip her apart like they did in the movies. That would be tragic.