Guilty Secrets (Campus Love and Murder Sorority Eyes Romance Book 1) (22 page)

They didn't know it yet, but they were about to help me catch a killer.

I felt a surge of adrenalin. This was my chance. Shard was single. I just hoped he was actively looking.

I left the cottage and headed the few miles back to campus by foot.

After a couple of minutes I came across Ben's car. I could tell he was watching me in his side view mirror. As I drew parallel to it, he wound down his window and leaned out. He knew me well enough to draw things out of me that others were unaware of.

It frightened me a little. The vulnerability of being around someone who knew me so well, but who was so arrogant in disregarding what was truly important to me. Perhaps because that kind of deep perception that Ben had was what I needed Harry to possess. But we'd had so little time together that it was unrealistic to expect of him.

Ben smiled.

"What, Ben?"

"Feels good to be back, right?"

There was no way I was going to admit it to Ben, but yes, it did.

"You're sick, Ben."

"Yeah, right, Robyn. The rush of finally making real all those arduous months of theoretical training? You feel it. The thrill of the hunt. Knowing you'll go above and beyond the calling. Do whatever it takes to get your man. I know it. Even if you don't recognize yourself."

It was true. And it worried me. An unexpected aspect of methodically hunting down my sister Madison's killer had slowly dawned upon me. The thrill of the hunt. Of risking everything because I had nothing to lose was what gave me the edge.

And now it was that same edge I needed to catch one of the world's most dangerous killers. But it was the edge that brought Harry and I together and could be what ends us.

Terminally.

CHAPTER SIXTY SEVEN

"After he saved your life three times, you've given up on Harry already?"

Mai stared over my shoulder at the dating app I'd just downloaded to my tablet.

"No, Mai, it's not like that."

She sat down at our kitchen table and raised a beautiful oriental arched eyebrow.

"Exactly how is it, Robyn?"

"First you have to promise to keep a secret."

"Cross my heart. Hope to die. Now spill."

I explained about Shard and the F.B.I's ultimatum.

"Those bastards. There's no way Harry is guilty."

She gave me a much needed hug.

Mai furrowed her brow.

"Robyn, the official singles launch party is tomorrow night. I could get Charity to selectively invite all the profiles that match the killer."

I shook my head. "At least not yet."

"You don't have the time to do this alone, Robyn. You know it or you wouldn't have mentioned it to me."

"But it's Charity we're talking about. She'll use this to get to me."

"She's over Harry. Besides, I trust her."

"Will Kublai be at the party?"

"What's my uncle got to do with this?"

I rolled my eyes.

Mai sighed. "OK, Robyn, I know after the whole Kimberley Knights thing..."

"Where he allowed the Red Queen to execute me."

"He did save Harry's life, or have you forgotten that part?"

I swallowed hard. I had forgotten how Kublai's subtle message had been the clue to saving Harry.

I shrugged, "It was touch and go."

"All I'm saying is Kublai is not your average villain. It's not a black and white world. He's grey like the world. And he likes you..."

"Why? What's he said?"

She avoided my eyes. "Nothing."

"I know when you're lying, Mai."

"He simply asked how you were and what your plans are."

I bet he did.

I signed up to the dating app and ran a filtered search on men similar to Shard's profile. It gave me a dozen matches in the Kimberley campus area. All of them looked normal, which oddly made the whole search a little creepy.

"A dozen dates? How long will that take?"

Mai smiled. "We have a speed date event at the party tomorrow."

I groaned. "I have nothing to wear."

Mai laughed. "You never have anything to wear. So shall I invite them?"

What choice did I have? I had no idea how little time I really had to find Shard.

I nodded.

Mai's smile dissolved into a scowl.

"What is it?"

"Just promise me one thing."

I felt my eyes narrow. "What?"

"These other men. Try not to flirt with them around Kublai, OK?"

"Why?"

"Kublai can be somewhat possessive."

"And by possessive you mean..."

"You don't want to know."

Oh great!

CHAPTER SIXTY EIGHT

The message on my cell phone read:
Urgent. Please meet me at Kimberley Times offices. A.S.A.P. Acting Editor in Chief Hemingway Jennings.

I'd meant to trawl the search engines for information on the new editor, but there hadn't been enough time. Al I knew was with a name like Hemingway, he was sure to be another hard ass like his predecessor, J.C. Thruster.

I left Mai at the apartment to sort out the party invitations.

Within ten minutes I was at the revolving doors of the Kimberley Times.

Inside the old office of the former Editor in Chief, J.C. Thruster, a tall blond woman in her early thirties looked up from the desk and waved. Compared to J.C's bad tempered bark, she was a breath of air.

She bounded over to me in long legged strides and shook my hand with a firm, confident manner. Her blue eyes bore into me with a secret look of bemusement.

"I'm Hemingway Jennings. So the legend in the making that is Robyn Loxley crosses my threshold at last. I was beginning to think you'd been snapped up by the big fish, like the Washington Post or New York Times."

I laughed. "That'll be the day."

Her smooth angular features winced. "Robyn, if as I hope, we are to get along fabulously like soul mates on a divine mission to strike fear into the shadow world with the only weapons at our disposal: namely, truth and justice, then you must first promise never to undermine our much maligned species by undermining yourself. That's the job of men. Don't do it for them."

I felt like I'd turned a corner and walked into a hurricane of righteous indignation wrapped up in a package marked sex goddess. I liked her already.

"So what's so urgent?"

She glanced around her at the busy office.

"Not here. In my office."

She led the way, click clacking in her stilettos. I followed her long legs with their expensively woven thin lines disappearing up the backs of her silk stockings. Her impossibly tight pencil skirt betrayed the outline impression of her garter belt and suspenders. She heralded the feminine and masculine combination of an Amazon warrior.

I felt like a chipmunk floundering in her wake as she carved a direct route though reporters and admin staff. She was like a nineteen forties Hollywood heroine. The street wise reporter who had seized the top job through hard won luck and determination and no small amount of talent.

Her obituary would one day far off report: Hemingway Jennings; dedicated to thumping out deadlines or just thumping whoever stood in the way of the oppressed.

We entered her glass walled office and she shut the door behind me. She sat on a leather reclining chair and coiled her legs impossibly around as she pointed one shoe at me.

"So Robyn, you're the one to bring down Kublai Khan?"

"Excuse me?"

"My source in the F.B.I. spilled his guts over you."

"Oh."

"'Oh?' Is that all you've got to say, Robyn? How about confessing when were you going to tell me about what you’re up to? Or is it a done deal with the Post?"

I sank into an offered chair. "The truth is Ms. Jennings..."

"Please call me Hemingway. I was named after the great Ernest Hemingway, but I disappointed my parents by being born a girl. Nevertheless, by age ten I could out-ride, outrun, out-shoot and out sail all four of my older brothers. To the point my now dearly departed mother had a crisis of faith and tried to change my name from Hemingway to Hermione. But by then the damage was done and Hemingway stuck."

I was in awe of her and didn't mind admitting to a burgeoning girl crush. In the most platonic of senses, of course. I hoped.

"Sounds like quite an identity crisis, Hemingway."

She playfully dismissed my concern with a graceful wave of her elongated and powerful fingers.

"So what's the plan?"

"Plan?"

"To take down Kublai Khan."

As much as my crush made it tempting I didn’t exactly feel comfortable relaying my plans altogether. But the way an intoxicated drunk trusts an offered shot of tequila I felt safe enough to confide in Hemingway. At least, with the Kublai Khan part of things. If not the matter of the killer Shard.

"Well, Hemingway. Apparently, believe it or not, Khan has a soft spot for me."

Her eyes widen and her luscious full lips broadened into a smug smile.

"But of course he does. You are gorgeous after all."

I admit at this point to a little spittle and drool escaping my bottom lip and quickly wiped it away on the back of my sleeve. Pathetic, I know, but the fan love atmosphere was intoxicating.

"So Robyn, you intend to use all those God given feminine wiles and land our fat catfish in shallow water?"

"Something like that."

"I see a front page and center spread exposé on the corruption of the elite class. Agreed?"

Until that point I hadn't given it a moment's thought.

"Um, sure."

"Bravo. Drink?"

I don't drink, but when in Rome... or a Roman goddess's inner sanctum.

"Um, sure..."

She rummaged in J.C. Thruster's old drawers and produced a silver hip flask dented by a bullet size hole. I imagined it once belonged to her namesake during some escapade involving liberating the oppressed against the deathly odds.

She poured two fingers of whiskey in two shot glasses and collided hers into mine like a giant meteor hitting a hapless innocent dinosaur.

"Here's to nailing the bastards!"

I only wished I shared her confidence.

CHAPTER SIXTY NINE

Charity Wilson whooped into the microphone as she and her sister Virtue stood on a silver circular platform in the center of the packed night club. They were naked. Silver bikinis had been spray painted over their naked bodies. They gyrated for the camera crew that was following them wherever they went.

I turned to Mai, "Was this how you imagined the launch party?"

Mai laughed. "As subtle as a sledgehammer. That's what we love about the Wilson sisters, right?"

"Ladies and gentlemen," Charity shouted, "welcome to the official launch party of Campus Love. Ladies, it’s time to find Mr. Right. And if he's shy and hiding in the shadows, then grab yourself Mr. Right-for-now and who cares what the morning brings."

"Probably something itchy," I said, "red and painful."

Mai shot me a look that said don't be a bitch.

Charity tugged at a cord and released hundreds of silver and gold balloons from the ceiling.

Brad joined us. The fencing team hunk put his arms around Mai. He ignored the evil look that Charity shot him as she waltzed by with her camera crew.

"So Brad, has Charity accepted that you and Mai are an item now?"

He nodded. "Told her earlier today. After all, it wasn't fair to be seeing someone behind her back. Even if Mai is the love of my life."

"How did Charity take it?"

He turned to me, sporting a large fresh bruise around one eye. "About as well as can be expected."

I wanted to laugh and cry at the same time. A response that felt like the unintentional and unofficial theme for the night's festivities.

Charity's face was all over the big screens dotted around the night club. It was pretty much impossible to get away from her.

Her voice boomed out of the speakers, "So ladies and gentlemen. For your enjoyment, we've got a couple of speed date rooms. One for the ladies and one for the gentlemen. Basically, it's a chance for the ladies to sit back in a comfortable chair with your favorite drink and a few bite size morsels to devour. So watch out gentlemen, our ladies are ravenous."

Cue Charity's tongue licking her lips across a giant wide-screen.

"Take a few minutes to quiz your prospective beau and then send him on his way for the next one is literally just around the corner. Are you ready? Then get set. Go!"

Mai nudged my arm. "That means you too, Robyn."

"What?"

She whispered, "We set up a room just for your special guests..."

Brad shot her a questioning look, but she ignored him.

We walked by a room with a large table. On one side a row of young women opposite a row of young men. Mai explained that a giant wall clock had a two minute count down and then each man would get up out of his seat and go seat himself opposite the next woman in the row. If a woman liked a man after her interview she would hit a button on a tablet which would send a private invitation to continue the night together in a more romantic setting.

Eventually we came to an intimately lit room.

"Your Love Cave."

I shot her a look that said you must be kidding.

She shrugged. "Charity's idea. She thought the name gave it a fun, but intimate feel."

I entered the pink low lit room that contained only one object. A luxuriously comfortable hot pink reclining leather chair shaped like a penis. Two footrest cushions were shaped like a pair of testicles.

I turned to Mai. "Let me guess. The chair is Charity's contribution?"

Mai avoided my eyes. "The idea is your suitor sits at your feet on one of the cushions."

Brad took one look at the room and turned green. "I think I'm going to be sick."

I took the seat under protest.

"Remember, Robyn, Harry's life rests on finding your Mr. Right."

Putting it as absurdly as that, what choice did I have?

I took a deep breath and nodded to Mai. "Send in the wolves."

CHAPTER SEVENTY

The screen of the penis shaped tablet displayed the profile of the first young man that entered my Love Cave.

He seemed quite normal. He was averagely good looking and athletic. If he had a fun or interesting personality he could be an eight out of ten.