Vero and I exchanged a glance. Where would he and Jackson have been going at two thirty in the morning? No stores or even bars would have been open at that hour.
“And you’re sure Theo didn’t follow you into the house when he dropped you off?” Vero asked.
“I’m sure. He didn’t even shut off the car. He dropped me off out front and he was gone before I made it into the building. It looked like he was in a hurry. Next thing I knew, it was ten in the morning and Ava was banging on my door. She barged in with my wallet and my coat, still wearing the clothes she’d worn to the party the night before. She said her cousin had just given her a ride back to campus and when they pulled up to the house, a bunch of campus police were parked out front. She said Celeste stopped her in the hallway as soon as she’d walked in the door and told her to round up all the board members for an emergency meeting.
“Ava was completely freaking out. She said she’d knocked on your door, but you didn’t answer. The two of us pulled ourselves together and went downstairs, and that’s when Celeste told us they knew all about the poker nights. That pledge Emory Willingham—remember him? He was the freshman who lost, like, thirty grand in one night—he spilled everything to his parents, and his dad reported us. Celeste called us all downstairs. She asked us how much money we had made from the poker nights and where we were keeping it. We had to tell her. By that point, we had no choice. She said the consequences would only be worse if we refused to cooperate.”
“What happened then?” I asked.
“Ava cracked.” Mia turned back to Vero. “She told them about the backpack in your closet. Celeste took her master key and went to search your room. When she came out, she said the money wasn’t there. I told her it had to be; I had seen it in your closet the night before when you and I were arguing about what to do with it. She asked if any of us knew where you had spent the night, but none of us could say for sure after everyone left the party—”
“Wait a minute,” Vero said, her focus sharpening. “Say that again.”
“What part?”
“You said we fought about the money… but I wasn’t the only one you fought with about the money that night. You said Ben wanted it out of the house, too.”
“That’s not the same thing,” Mia argued.
“No, it’s not,” Vero said, her argument picking up steam as if all her points were falling into place. “Because Ben didn’t want to put the money in the bank. He wanted to keep it athishouse. And if you had left the party with Theo, and if Jackson had gone out to meet up with him after… who was in the house with Ben?”
Mia blinked, her eyes growing wide as Vero’s meaning sank in.
“You said no one could say for sure whereIwas after the party. But it sounds like no one could say for sure where Ben was either. He had a motive, the means, and an opportunity to take that money. He had yourwallet, Mia—which meant he had access to a master key! He wouldn’t have needed you to get into the building, or even into my room. And he probably didn’t want you to tell anyone that you two had a fight and you left the party with Theo because now that Theo’s gone missing, that would also give Ben a motive for his murder.”
Mia recoiled. “What do you mean,Theo’s murder? Theo’s not dead. What are you talking about?”
Vero winced as she realized her mistake.
Mia paled. I could see the wheels turning as if she were playing back a recording in her mind, searching the footage for the last time she’d seen him. I could see the exact moment she realized how much time had passed. When she finally spoke, her voice was so low, I couldn’t be sure if she was talking to us or to herself. “Theo was supposed to be at our engagement luncheon on Sunday. WhenI asked Ben why Theo didn’t come, he said something must have come up.”
Mia shot to her feet. She knocked Vero backward into the bathtub and shoved me out of her way as she scrambled to unlock the door. My head hit the wall with a painfulthwack. I shook off stars, pulling myself upright and chasing her into the hall, but she was already disappearing through the crowd. Judging by how fast she was moving, I didn’t think she planned to stay at the party any longer.
Vero clambered out of the bathtub and was suddenly right behind me. “Hurry! We can’t let her get to her car!”
We shoved our way through the living room, finally bursting free of the house.
“There!” Vero said, pointing at a slender dark-haired woman silhouetted by the pool lights. Vero tore off after her, her ankle monitor flashing as her legs pumped. “Oh no, you don’t!” Vero cried. “We’re not finished!”
Mia turned just as Vero’s feet left the ground. Vero’s arms reached out wide, the full force of her tackle throwing the shocked woman backward into the swimming pool. They hit the water, toppling votives, arms and legs thrashing wildly. People began circling the pool to watch, a few frat brothers cheering as Vero and Mia wrestled and splashed.
Vero had one arm around Mia’s neck, both of them kicking furiously to keep their heads above the water.
“Oh god,” I said when the woman’s face broke the surface. “Vero, it’s not Mia!”
Vero stopped moving, and her feral face went suddenly slack. She released her grip. The stunned woman coughed and sputtered as she kicked her way to the edge of the pool.
I reached for her hand, hauling her over the concrete lip. Herhair was plastered to her forehead, and water poured from her clothes. She choked out a mouthful of pool water as I smacked her back and apologized profusely for Vero’s mistake. Her friends raced over to collect her. The girl’s shoes squelched as they ushered her into the house.
Vero grabbed onto the lip of the pool, her huge sweater and the transmitter belt catching on the concrete as she tried to pull herself out of the water. I grabbed her under the armpits, leveraging all my weight until she was sprawled on the pool deck, blinking up at the sky.
“Do you see her?” she asked.
I bent over my knees to catch my breath. “Nope. Come on,” I said, offering her a hand. “Let’s get you dried off.”
I pulled Vero to her feet, and we walked back into the house. Vero’s drenched jeans stuck like paste to her body, and the crowds parted easily for us, everyone taking generous steps back to avoid getting dripped on as Vero waddled toward the bathroom. She glared at the person at the front of the line until they backed away from the door, gesturing for us to go first.
We locked ourselves in the bathroom. Vero dragged Mitch’s phone out of her back pocket. She shook off the water and frowned at the screen. When it didn’t come on, she pitched it into the trash can. I grabbed an armful of towels from the closet, shook one out, and spread it over her shoulders.
