She bit her lower lip and nodded.
"Did you know her?"
Mai nodded. "She was my roommate. Madison."
"You're joking."
Tears filled Mai's eyes.
"I don't really want to talk about it."
She rubbed her eyes. "I think I'm going to turn in for the night."
She stood and turned to leave.
"I'm sorry Mai, I had no idea."
She hesitated and shot me a strange, mistrusting look. It quickly dissolved with her tears and changed back to the gracefully generous Mai I knew.
"Robyn, if you want to know more about it, ask her boyfriend."
"Who?"
"She never said who, but I think he was a campus cop."
"How do you know?"
Mai shrugged. "Madison once stole his handcuffs."
I bid Mai goodnight and sat in bed with my lap top.
The software program had finished scanning the Kimberley Times network. Hidden in J.C. Thruster's personal folder was a photograph.
It had taken all night to decrypt the file.
It was a high resolution photograph of a necklace. The pendant was engraved with an ugly Venetian mask crossed with a pair of swords.
I wasn't sure what it meant or how to use it. But I was sure someone knew. For whatever this symbol meant, Madison had died because of it.
I re-read the journal and an entry caught my eye:
I thought I could trust H.G. How wrong can a girl be? Betrayal in love hurts bad, but what he did is unforgivable. A wound that cannot heal.
All the same, I'm too close to back away now. No matter what the danger. He doesn't know I know, so I'm safe... for now.
Only one more night and I'll know everything.
That was the last entry.
What was the thing so unforgivable? Some kind of betrayal more than heartbreak? I had no idea what it could mean.
What could be more unforgiving than heartbreak? Death? Murder? I needed to look into the history of Kimberley campus crimes. For reported crimes the knowledge held by the Kimberley Times could be invaluable. My job there seemed more important than ever. But the more I searched the archives, the more I was convinced there was something missing. Hidden.
I needed access to information about crimes that went unreported. But who would know about them? Perhaps a campus cop? Perhaps Officer Hotness?
I closed the laptop and fell into a restless sleep.
CHAPTER SIX
The next morning I woke early and was greeted in the kitchen by Mai's beautiful smile.
I checked my email and found a reply by J.C. Thruster. I assumed his assistant had transcribed it.
The email read:
Impressed. Now prove to me you are a serious journalist. Bring me a scoop on the Knights of Kimberley.
No explanation. No context. I assumed it was another joke assignment designed to wear me down and make me quit just like my predecessors.
"Mai, who are the Knights of Kimberley?"
Her smile faltered.
"Why do you ask?"
"It's my next assignment."
Mai took my hand and sat me down on a kitchen stool.
"Robyn, the Knights of Kimberley is a fraternity. A secret fraternity. Banned by the Dean."
"Banned? Why?"
"Because no one knows who they are. Because last summer a girl disappeared at one of their balls."
"Your friend Madison?"
She nodded.
"Did they find Madison's body?"
Mai avoided my eyes and shook her head.
"Robyn, they hold two balls a year. One in the summer and..."
My hand flew to my mouth. "Not Christmas? Not the one you were going to invite me to?"
Her eyes narrowed. "Promise me you won't tell anyone."
"You have to tell me everything you know about the Knights of Kimberley.
She sighed and agreed.
"All I know about them isn't much. Twice a year, I get a list of chosen girls. It's my job to make sure they are suitably dressed."
I shot her a quizzical look. "Why you?"
"It's a masked ball. I major in fashion, remember? I'll have my own label, once daddy coughs up the cash."
"OK, so you dress them, and then what?"
"Then I get a message at the last possible moment on when and where to meet for the pick-up point."
"The pick-up point?"
"Transportation to the event."
"The ball?"
"Exactly."
"What's so special about these masked balls that they have to be secret?"
She shook her head. "It's hard to explain. You'd have to see it to believe it. So as a journalist you're obliged to keep your source to yourself?"
"If you do me one last thing."
"What?"
I caught her eye. "Get me on that list."
"But that's impossible. I don't make the list."
"Then find me someone who does."
CHAPTER SEVEN
While in the shower I thought of Officer Hotness and his perfect honed butt. I felt my fingers linger between my legs. That's when I heard the doorbell and sighed. I reluctantly pulled away my hand.
As I stepped out of the shower, the doorbell rang again. This time with urgency.
I called out to Mai, but there was no answer. I could hear her singing in the shower and oblivious to the ringing doorbell.
I quickly pulled on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt and wrapped my wet hair in a towel.
The doorbell continued to ring.
I padded up the long corridor leaving a trail of damp footprints and eventually I opened the front door.
Stood before me, was Officer Hotness.
He looked me up and down and grinned. "Ms. White, are you in a permanent state of wetness?"
I flushed hot with the lingering memories of his perfect backside.
"What can I do for you Officer Hot- I mean, Deputy Gunn?"
He looked at me curiously then reached inside his jacket. He pulled out a large envelop.
"Various citations and a court appearance date. Failure to attend may result in a warrant issued in your name."
I took them and mumbled my thanks and turned to slam the door in his face when I hesitated.
"You had to deliver them personally?"
His grin lapsed. "No."
My hand gripped the handle. "Then why?"
"In all the rush of the other day, I didn't get a chance to ask you."
"Ask me what?"
"If you'd like to come out on a date with me tonight?"
"Tonight?"
"Or any night convenient to you."
I resisted my goldfish impression and nodded.
"I'll pick you up after my shift. Seven?"
I nodded. After he left I shut the door and turned to see Mai stood in a small pool of water while wearing the smallest towel I'd ever seen wrapped around her.
She smiled. "I guess you won't be cooking for us tonight?"
I felt a look of horror creep over my face. I'd just agreed to go on date with someone who may be responsible for my sister's murder.
"Mai, talk me out of it."
She smiled. "Oh no honey. I'm already anticipating all the juicy details."
CHAPTER EIGHT
As soon as I shut the door on Officer Hotness, Harry Gunn, I began to feel the sweet angst of butterflies embarking on demented suicide dogfights in my lower stomach.
I caught my reflection in the wall mirror.
I wasn't fat and therefore confidently seductive in a life of the party way. But neither was I stick thin and able to allure with aloof certainty of a catwalk model.
I certainly wasn't tall like a model and therefore able to swagger through herds of girls on a manhunt and grab the attention of the elusive Mr. Right. But neither was I short like all the cute girls able to tightly concentrate all their assets into an intoxicating bundle of go getting pluck.
To pile on the shame my hair was so far
from glamorously long, I wasn't even sure if I owned any hair product other than an all-in-one sports shower gel. But neither was my hair exotic, quirky and interesting.
My eyes didn't sparkle or twinkle like romance novel heroines are supposed to. My smile was more shoe-gazer than Hollywood. I wasn't a head turning stunner and therefore I had only one reason to suppose Officer Hotness was interested in me: he suspected my secret and was determined to stop my plan.
And saving the worst for last: My skin didn't radiate like a sun goddess transported to earth to collect her prospective sun god before returning to the stars. But on the other end of the scale, neither did it take on the pallor of an aloof and gloomy Victorian heroine that might elicit Mr. Right's protective and nurturing instincts to nurse me back to health.
My walk, my stance, my general demeanor, call it what you will, but in no way did it say follow the seductive lines until you hit jackpot. But neither did it say please be entranced by graceful, athletic poise and imagine how healthy your future children would be, Mr. Right.
To conclude the assassination of Robyn Loxley, I was so average it killed.
This is the last thing I need right now.
To make matters worse, Mai fixed me with a look that announced the makeover queen had possessed Mai's mind and was about to unleash unruly havoc on my body.
With a disapproving look, her gaze settled between my legs.
"Do I need to get the Indiana Jones jungle machete?"
I flushed hot.
She nodded. "As I thought. Do not move."
"Where you going?"
"I need to assemble my team."
"Team?"
"This is a job for the Wilson sisters."
"I'm not going to enjoy this am I?"
Five minutes later the doorbell rang. I opened it and stood facing my first natural born Kimberley University enemy. Charity.
She was carrying a large silver vanity case under one arm. She looked over my shoulder and nodded to Mai.
"I see what you mean, Mai. How many weeks do we have?"
Mai shook her head. "Hours, girls. It's a full emergency transplant. The ultimate mission impossible. Do you accept the challenge?"
I was still in denial. "What's going on?"
Charity and then Virtue, pushed by me and walked into the living room.
I followed them like a moronic sheep and felt like I was standing at the gates of Hell for my long forgotten sins. Retribution was in the air.
Charity turned her plastic gaze on me and fixed me with the full force of an avenging angel. She smiled like the devil might.
"Charity by name, charity by nature. We accept."
CHAPTER NINE
Charity walked in a circle around me, as if I was contaminated by poor styling and cheap beauty products.
"The three S treatment might work."
At that point I remembered to switch on my brain and connect my tongue.
"There's really no need. I don't plan anything but a quick coffee and a chat and back here for an early night."
Charity and Virtue looked at me as if I was high on crack and didn't know what planet I was currently residing on, let alone what I was talking about.
Virtue pawed at my jeans and t-shirt. "Strip, scrub, and sex-up. I concur. Do you have three pairs of extra strong rubber gloves?"
Mai nodded enthusiastically. "I'm sure the maid keeps spares."
That we had a maid was news to me. I guessed the place was so big it was easy for a person to get lost. Or perhaps the elusive maid was busy spending the first week cleaning the west wing. I hadn't exactly explored the entire place. Without a map, I got weary after the first twenty rooms or so.
As I contemplated the three S strategy, Mai handed out large full glasses of white wine. The girls toasted me as their greatest challenge yet and each downed half a glass. It felt like Fresher Week had become adopt a poor servant girl week. I half expected them to smash their glasses into the fireplace like some Viking ritual of deflowering the local wench.
A glass was thrust in my hands and the three pressed me up against the fireplace, insisting I drink.
I was about to throw the glass at Charity when a dark thought hit me. The Wilson sisters? That makes them C.W. and V.W. The same C.W. and V.W. on Madison's list?
It was certainly possible. I reminded myself that if they were on Madison’s list I would need to ingratiate myself with them to learn their secrets. No matter what the humiliation.
Charity and Virtue each grabbed an arm and dragged me to a bathroom. Before I knew what was happening, my t-shirt was hoisted up over my head, while my jeans were unceremoniously tugged down over my knees. My underwear was removed with all the grace of a Viking virgin's deflowering. The gasp of horror that exploded at me from three directions took me by surprise.
Three pairs of tweezers appeared in uncomfortable proximity.
Charity spoke for them all.
"Girls, we're going to need the electric lawn mower."
That was the moment I decided to treat the trembling glass of wine as a painkiller. I downed the full glass in a succession of gulps. Moments later I was pushed and prodded into the shower.
First, I was scolded by hot steam jets. Followed by ice cold jets, then hot again. All the while, the three witches, as I viewed them, cackled and shrieked.
Sleeves were rolled up. Plastic aprons donned. Long rubber gloves were stretched up to elbows. Surgical masks were fitted tightly and plastic safety glasses perched on their noses.
I felt like a lab rat donating my body to further the progress of medical science. Only I still required my body and was terrified about relinquishing my averageness.
Charity opened her silver vanity case and whipped out several crystal bottles of colored liquid. Potions for spells, I assumed.
They proceeded to pour the contents of the bottles into the palms of their hands. Then they lathered me up.
Virtue handed out scrubbing brushes as Charity once again spoke for all three of them.
"OK sisters. For the honor of our Sorority and for the greater good. As we stand in the shadow of the beast, we shall overcome."
I stood quivering in the corner of the wet room feeling less like a beast and more like a drowning lab rat. With that, all three pounced on me. They lathered up my entire body and proceeded to scrub.
They groped at every inch of my body. Exposing everything for a humiliating scrub. Fingers prodded and probed in places that even my own fingers hadn't ventured.
All three of them appeared to be enjoying the process a lot more than I was.
The jets stopped pummeling my body. I stood dripping before the three witches. Out came three white towels and engulfed me with sensual luxurious softness. The welcome relief lasted all of three seconds before they began rubbing me hard and fast with the towels.
I must have whimpered or possibly screamed to prompt Mai to inform me that this was for my own good and to stop complaining.
I felt my nipples rubbed raw and tried to ignore the sensations of the rough repetitive toweling between my legs. Just when the sensations were becoming unbearable, they stopped and stood back, admiring their work.
Charity spoke for the Hive mind. She held out one hand like a surgeon awaiting her scalpel from a nurse.
"The lawn mower."
Virtue plonked a large electric shaver in her palm.
Her eyes lit up. With all the dexterity of a surgeon she thumbed the on switch. A loud electric buzz emitted from the gruesome torture implement in her grasp. She stepped forward.
She glanced at me with glazed eyes. She was a woman on a mission and I was the lab rat about to get prepped for their demonic plan to beautify me. Sorority sisters seeking Mr. Right.
I wanted to vomit. Virtue and Mai pinned me against the wet room wall and spread my legs as Charity sank to her knees. She peered up between my legs and shot me a look of the demented surgeon.
"My Mercedes will be in the shop for a month."
"I'm v
ery sorry to hear that."
Under that surgical mask I was sure Charity was smiling manically.
"No, but you will be. Hold her tight."
CHAPTER TEN
I felt like a springtime lamb shorn and exposed to a pack of wolves. I was led out of the wet-room and into the bathroom's vanity section. A lamb to the slaughter. There, wall to wall mirrors exposed my averageness with brutal honesty.
Charity clucked her summation of my shortcomings.
"It's like enduring a week of diet pill constipation whilst staring at a jar of shriveled prunes."
I had no idea what she meant, but it couldn't be good.
Virtue nodded. "I feel loose just looking at her boobs. Level ten?"
Charity nodded.
More bottles and jars of liquids and creams were fetched from Charity's silver vanity case. The three of them poured creams into their palms and my entire body was moisturized with slow, intense, circling fingers. Not an inch of my body was spared.
Finally, they stood back and admired their masterpiece of torture.
I thought I might pretend some gratitude for the body humiliation.
"So... thanks for all your hard work. I guess I should get going."
Charity rolled her eyes. "Girlfriend, we have barely begun. The hard work is yet to come."
I swallowed hard. "Oh... great."
Charity dug into her vanity case and produced what looked to the uninitiated like a flame thrower.
I was informed it was a tanning gun. I was led to a tanning booth attached to Mai's bathroom. There, I was blasted from all angles with orange paint.
For the next five hours I sat naked before the wall to wall mirrors as my hair and scalp endured various torture. In a frenzy of activity and in no particular order I care to recall, I endured hot oil and intense face melting hairdryers. My nails were all but plucked from my fingers and toes and coated with enough varnish to polish a palace of mahogany tables. The chemical fumes made me giddy.
Occasionally, through the curtains of the feverish day-mare I had succumbed to, I heard various musings.
"What about the teeth?"
"No time to replace them."
Something akin to battery acid was fixed to my teeth with what I affectionately named the gum shaped clamps of death.
Guilty Secrets (Campus Love and Murder Sorority Eyes Romance Book 1) Page 4
