Frankie watched Eric. “I think we have to follow him. He’s Heather’s brother.”
“Frankie’s right,” Caro said. “Even if he has something weird in mind, we have to put up with it. It’s only a small part of the night. We lost a friend, but he lost way more.”
Every instinct screamed at me to turn on my heels and race back to the tent, or my hotel. Back to safety. But Caro started trailing after Eric, then Frankie, and Mint and Courtney followed. Finally even Coop left me. I forced the panic down and raced to catch up.
We followed Eric into the heart of Greek row, shooting questioning glances at each other, until we came to a stop in front of the Phi Delt house. The imposing, thick-columned mansion was empty, windows dark. The sight was surreal—it was Homecoming weekend, the biggest party of the year. The Phi Delt house should have been exploding with music and people. It certainly was when Mint was social chair, then president.
Mint spun to Eric. “Why is it empty?”
“The Alumni Office decided the Phi Delts and their dates would be more comfortable spending Homecoming weekend in the Chancellor’s Estate. Given their high standing on campus and the exemplary amount of money Phi Delt alumni donate to Duquette every year, it seemed a fitting honor.”
“You cleared the frat house,” Frankie said, his voice a mix of awe and fear.
“Come on,” Eric said. “You don’t need an invitation, right? This is your old stomping grounds. Your dominion, your castle. What do the kids say—where the magic happens?”
“Eric, you’re three years younger than us,” Coop said. “Knock it off.”
Eric laughed and practically ran up the porch steps, unlocking the door and pushing it open.
“This is creepy,” Courtney muttered.
“What do you think, Jess?” Frankie slung his heavy arm over my shoulders. “Want to go back to the old fratter?”
“I don’t think we have a choice,” I said. And with that, we stepped into the dark foyer after Eric.
“Almost there,” he called. We followed him to the farthest corner of the house, where a dingy door stood. He shouldered it open.
“The basement?” Mint asked, puzzled.
Courtney doubled back. “I don’t want to go down there.”
“Hey, it’s okay.” Mint kissed her temple. “We’ll just pay our respects to Heather—”
“And Eric,” I mumbled. “Guy looks like the walking dead.”
“And Eric,” Mint repeated, smiling at me over Courtney’s head. “Then we’ll go right back to the party.”
I took a deep breath and went first, following Eric down the flight of stairs.
The Phi Delt basement.It was a legendary place. If the stories were true, this was where secret hazing rituals took place, the ones that had to happen in a windowless room, far from prying eyes. It was also where the inner circle came to drink and escape the masses dancing on the floor above. The number of hours I’d spent in here with Heather, Caro, Courtney, Frankie, and Jack were too many to count. The only person who’d never been allowed in was Coop.
“No way,” Coop said as our eyes adjusted to the dim light. The room was spare, only a set of sagging couches pushed up against one wall, an empty keg rolled on its side in the corner. “This isn’t the Phi Delt basement. This is a set fromLaw & Order SVU.”
“We’re all here,” Eric said. “Finally, after ten years.”
There was old graffiti covering the walls; one wall had a child-sized hole in it. The place really was a shithole. Why had it been so cool to drink here, the invitation so coveted?
“Eric, man, should we, uh, pay our respects?” Mint loosened his collar as he scanned the basement. Was he remembering all the hours we’d spent in here together, the corners we’d kissed in when no one was looking, or everyone was too drunk to care? Losing time, losing everything…
“Ten long years since the Class of 2009 graduated and moved on from Duquette. What in the world have you been up to?” Eric looked at us innocently, and my brain screamedtrap. “Wait, don’t tell me. I already know. You got married, engaged, became professional athletes and business leaders and lawyers. You turned out so successful—everything everyone always expected from you.”
“Some of us became social media celebrities,” Courtney added, apparently not too scared to plug herself.
“You want to know whatI’vedone for the last ten years? After the cops gave up on my sister’s case, and let the person who murdered her walk around with the rest of us, free and clear?”
A pall settled over the basement. Eric was like a train barreling full speed in our direction, and none of us could move.
“I’ve spent every day of the last ten years investigating my sister’s murder. Following leads the police didn’t have, rumors passed around by students, things no one realized were connected.” He looked at us, feverish. “The cops missed so much.”
