The hair on the back of my neck stood on end. I looked around the room, too, searching for signs that anything had been tampered with. “Let’s check and see if anything’s missing.” Vero dove for the desk at the same time I went for her dresser. I blew out a sigh of relief when I found that the envelope containing all her case notes was sitting out, right where I had left it. It didn’t appear to have been opened. But maybe Vero’s stalker had been in too much of a hurry to realize what it was. And if they were looking for a backpack full of money, they might have overlooked the envelope entirely.
“If they did search your room, they were awfully tidy about it,”I said, struggling to find anything out of place. Vero opened her closet. Her clothes were all neatly hung, her shoes stacked in racks along the floor. She reached down for a pair of bright white sneakers and held them out to show me.
One of them was missing a shoelace.
A chill raced through me.
Vero looked like she might be sick. “Whoever threw that rock was in my room while we were eating dinner. How were they in my bedroom and we didn’t even hear them?”
“Everyone was arguing,” I reminded her. “You and Javi and Norma were bickering about the wedding, and Gloria had to shout over you just to get you all to stop. Someone could have climbed in your window and started breakdancing at the top of the stairs and we wouldn’t have been any wiser. It was so loud down there, who knows what they were up here doing.” If they were spying on us, they might have heard everything: Javi’s theory that Theo could have taken the money, Vero’s insistence that he hadn’t, and the group’s agreement that the only hope we had for clearing her name was to find him.
I took the shoe from Vero and put it back in the closet. “We’re going to get to the bottom of all of this,” I assured her. “We just need to find Theo and make him sign a statement. If we can force him to tell the truth and confirm your alibi for that night, the prosecutor will have to drop your charges. We’ll make sure everyone knows you’re innocent, then whoever is harassing you will back off.” I’d post about Vero’s release from custody on my own social media if I had to. For that matter, I’d write about it in Mrs. Haggerty’s salacious tell-all book and sell the damn TV rights if that meant whoever was tormenting Vero would stop.
“Do you have any idea who might be sending these notes to you?” I asked.
Vero’s laugh was hopeless. She sat down on her bed and pulled a pillow to her lap. “It could be anyone, Finn. At first I thought maybe it could be Mia or Ava. Mia was the president of our chapter. Ava was VP. We planned the poker nights together. We were supposed to split the money after we graduated, along with a few frat guys who helped us out with the games. Of all of them, Mia and Ava would have the biggest reason to be pissed at me since most of the money was supposed to be theirs. The three of us were in a lot of trouble with the university by the time I ran away. They probably thought I got away with everything. But the handwriting on those notes isn’t Ava’s or Mia’s. I would know. I lived with both of them in the Kappa Gamma house for almost three years.”
“Okay. Who else?”
“The people who played in our poker games lost a lot of money. Any one of them, or even their parents, could be angry enough to want to break into my room and steal their money back.”
“Then for now let’s focus on finding Theo and securing your alibi,” I suggested. “What’s the plan for tomorrow?”
“There’s only one person in this town who might be able and willing to help me find him. We should start with her.”
“Who?”
“Zoey Kline. We were in KG together. She was my Little.”
“Your little what?”
“You know, like a Little Sister. I was her Big… her mentor. We got matched up when she pledged. She was a freshman and I was a senior. She worshipped the ground I walked on and used to follow me around like a damn puppy everywhere. She’s sweet though. And she was a lot closer to me than she was to anyone else in our chapter. First thing in the morning, you and I should go to campus to talk to her.”
“I thought you weren’t supposed to leave the house.”
“Icanleave the house,” Vero corrected me. “I’m not a violent offender, so I get essential leave privileges. My ankle monitor lets me out of here between nine and noon on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays to run errands, on Wednesday nights for confession, and on Saturday nights for mass.” I raised an eyebrow, and she smirked. “It’s the only night they do the service in Spanish. My monitoring officer couldn’t exactly say no.”
“Since when didyoustart going to mass?”
“Around the same timeyoustarted giving up alcohol for Lent. Anything you want to tell me?” she asked in a mocking tone.
My phone buzzed in my pocket.Incoming call from Nickflashed on the screen.
“Nothing either of us has time to worry about now. We have enough on our plate.” I tossed Vero a pair of shapeless flannel pajamas from her dresser, as well as a pair of the ugly granny panties she usually reserved for laundry day. Then I locked the window, drawing the curtains tight. “No more sneaking out while I’m gone,” I warned her.
I carried my vibrating phone to the bathroom down the hall, connecting Nick’s call before it could roll to voice mail. “Is everything all right?” I cringed as I realized how paranoid I must have sounded.
“Hello to you, too,” he said with a chuckle. “Everything’s fine. Are you okay? You sound out of breath.”
I cupped a hand over my forehead. A headache was blooming behind it. I reached into Vero’s cabinet and shook two ibuprofens out of a bottle. “I ran to catch my phone. I didn’t want to miss your call.”
Nick’s voice was tinged with concern. “Is that all?”
“Dinner was a little stressful. Ramón let it slip about the wedding.”
“Let me guess… Vero’s mom wasn’t thrilled.”
“That’s an understatement,” I said between sips from the tap.
