Guilty Secrets (Campus Love and Murder Sorority Eyes Romance Book 1) (10 page)

"Why?"

"What exactly were you doing in Brad's room?"

"Looking for Brad."

She raised an arched eyebrow. "Is that so?"

"What else?"

"I've met ambitious girls like you before, Robyn. You don't come from money, so you're hungry for success and I applaud that. But what you're getting yourself into; looking to identify the Knights of Kimberley will get you killed. Just like that girl Madison Loxley."

"What do you know about her death?"

She avoided my eyes. "All I know is she asked too many questions and the next thing we know she vanished."

I sighed. "I'll be more careful."

Mai wrapped a blanket around my shoulders and we curled up on her four poster bed with a bottle of wine. Like a stone splashing into a pool, memories of Jason kept repeating like ripples in a pool.

I turned to Mai. "You were going to explain the Knights of Kimberley."

She sighed. "They are only ever seen at the Knight balls. Which are masked. So no one knows their true identifies. But what I do know is, only the sons of the most privileged families in the country are invited to become a knight. And even then, they are subjected to rigorous tests to see if they have what it takes."

"Tests? Like what? Don't say chivalry."

We both laughed at my bitter joke.

"I'm not sure what the criteria are. But look at Brad. He's an alpha male if I've ever seen one."

"Does anyone ever turn them down?"

She shook her head. "Never. I don't know why, but it's like they have no choice."

"Brad left."

"When he decided to leave the Knights, I suggested to him that we both transfer to another university."

"Why did Brad stay?"

"He wouldn't say. I think they have some kind of hold over him."

"Blackmail?"

She shrugged and rested her head on a pillow. "Maybe. I don't know."

Her eyes fluttered shut.

We hugged and then I said I needed to sleep. Mai asked me sleep next to her. I said I would, but first I had to check on something. I returned to my bedroom.

I removed the necklace and stared at the thumb drive attached to the back of the knights’ symbol pendant.

I opened up my laptop and inserted the thumb drive. Whatever secrets it contained were encrypted.

I selected the hacking software program and waited patiently. An hour later my laptop pinged.

It revealed a document and two video files. The document was entitled Professor Davina Cole. It contained a police report of a complaint by a female student, Jessica Smith made against the Professor.

The nature of the complaint was sexual harassment. In a red box on the bottom, someone had typed:
Complainant has withdrawn their complaint. No further action.

I clicked on the first video. My monitor screen filled with a film of two women, naked and on a bed. One, a young blond woman, was tied by her wrists and ankles and prostrate before an older woman with long red hair. The red head had a small leather whip in her hand was stroking the other woman's ass.

I hit pause. It was impossible to know if it was consensual or not. Both seemed to be enjoying themselves, if the sounds coming from the video were anything to go by.

There was second document. It was a police report on the death of a female student. The name of the deceased: Jessica Smith. There was a list of people the police had spoken to. Against Davina Cole's name there was a question mark.

In a red box at the bottom of the document someone had typed:

Verdict: suicide. No further action. Case closed.

By implication, the professor at least had questions to answer. But why did Brad have this evidence in his possession? Why did he not present it to the authorities? Was he blackmailing the professor? If so, why?

More than ever, I knew I had to find out more about the professor and find out if she was hiding anyone else's secrets.

I clicked the second video.

To my shock, Madison appeared in the film. She was sat in a room that looked remarkably like mine.

She looked into the camera. She had dark crow's feet. Her hair was flat and lifeless. She seemed agitated. Even, afraid.

"When you get this, it may present more questions than answers. But I think you'll know what to do with it."

She glanced down and reached forward as if to switch off the camera when she hesitated.

"I love you and I'm sorry you have to do this for me. Don't give up on me. Please."

The picture went dark.

Who was she speaking to? Me? I wasn't certain. But in my heart I knew it was a message from the grave for me.

Madison was right. I did know what I had to do next. But that didn't make it any easier.

CHAPTER TWENTY

The next morning I took a seat in the semi-circular auditorium amongst a hundred other students. Everyone seemed genuinely excited.

The raised stage set in front of drawn curtains was empty.

I checked my watch. The lecture was due to start in a couple of minutes and there was no sign of Professor Cole.

The lights dimmed and the curtains slowly opened revealing a blank white screen the size of a cinema screen.

A hush fell over the audience. The screen flickered and the face of a red headed woman appeared. She was sat at a desk and behind her was a marble statue of a snake coiling around a naked woman.

The girl next to me whispered to her friend, "That's her. The Red Queen beaming in from her ivory tower."

I whispered to the girl, "Does she ever give lectures in person?"

The girl looked at me as if I was mad.

"Where have you been?"

"But surely we deserve personal contact. Has anyone complained to the Dean?"

The girl shot me a pitying smile. "She's the best of the best. She can do what she wants. The Dean does what she tells him."

Her friend leaned into the conversation and whispered, "Sometimes, she gives students one-on-one sessions. But you have to pretty special for that to happen."

I thanked them and sat back to think.

Davina Cole cleared her throat and addressed the auditorium.

"Ladies and gentlemen. We shall begin by dissecting the works of Jane Austin. And for any of you who may have to leave early. The assignment for next time shall be a creative writing price of no more than five thousand words in the style of Jane Austin if she were a young author writing today. Now onto today’s topic..."

How was I to get access to Cole? I made notes on Professor Cole's observations and she addressed questions sent to her by the Kimberley University simultaneous messenger service and an idea began to take shape.

After the lecture I ran back to the apartment. In the kitchen I opened my laptop. If I was to accept an invitation to Cole's ivory tower I needed to gain her attention amongst a baying crowed of several hundred other students desperate to be noticed.

There seemed only one way to do that. On merit. I needed to write something that was both provocative and compelling. And I knew what many if not most other students did not. I knew Davina's weakness.

I began to type in the manner of Jane Austin about a young female student who falls for an older female professor. The content would either gain me a fail for inappropriateness or an All Access Pass into the secretive world of Davina Cole.

When I finished, I emailed the piece to Davina Cole. And hour later I got a reply with a grade of A-minus. But importantly it was accompanied by a written invitation to the ivory tower.

It wasn't a one on one session, but in Davina's words, a small gathering of likeminded friends. Whatever that meant.

Into the spider’s web I would go.

CHAPTER TWENTY ONE

I studied an email from Harry.

It contained a background check on Davina Cole. Eschewing the path of a Master’s in business finance would take her, she instead took the less lucrative and academic path in life. The general tone was she was celebrated around the world for her analysis of western women in literature and her championing of women's rights. Particularly those like her who came from modest backgrounds.

On paper she sounded wonderful. But I knew her secrets. I just couldn't yet see how her secret could help me find and catch Madison's killer. Simply confronting Davina and forcing her to expose someone she might genuinely have no knowledge of would in turn risk exposing my position to the real killer.

I reminded myself to be patient. Tonight might make all the difference.

Despite ruining her red silk dress, Mai gave me another skimpy silk number in sunflower yellow. It was perfect to bait the trap. But as the time for the party grew closer, I began to recall that night with Jason. From those ripples of panic surfaced some serious doubts about confronting a second predator in as many days.

Then I remembered the video of Madison and the fear etched on her face. She knew more than I of the danger in every moment I played these games and yet she found the courage from somewhere. So the least I could do was honor her in that.

The truth was, I had no choice. Not if I wanted a life without regret.

I left a note for Mai that I would in all likelihood be back late.

I followed the directions of Davina's email and found her brownstone apartment building. Apparently she had the triplex penthouse.

I was greeted by a doorman who meticulously checked a list for my name that included a picture from my student ID. Then I was asked to step in the elevator and wait as the doorman produced a single key on a silver chair. He inserted the key in a panel next to the elevator button marked Penthouse.

He turned the key in the lock and hit the button. He stepped back as the doors closed and I took the elevator with a stomach of raging butterflies.

It all seemed a little abnormal and excessive. I wondered what Davina was afraid of. A moment later, the doors slid open into a large open space of parquet flooring and large tropical plants.

A group of people stood chatting and laughing. Beyond them a large gold gong stood before a set of large wooden doors.

A group of twenty or so individuals in tuxedos or fine evening wear turned to greet the new guest arriving. A ravishing, tall, slim woman with high cheek bones, piercing emerald eyes and long, thick red hair billowing like a headdress of flaming vipers seemed to glide across the floor towards me.

She wore a tight fitting emerald silk dress with a golden snake slithering down from one shoulder, across her breasts to her waist and down one leg. As she approached, I noticed how the snake cleverly disguised one long zip.

Her arms were decorated with green silk gloves with coiling golden snakes. She paused a few feet away from the elevator. She held out a silk gloved hand that proudly sported a huge emerald ring as if she were Hollywood's impression of a female gangster and I was expected to kiss the ring to proclaim my life and loyalty.

"Robyn, delightfully late."

I shuffled forward, took her hand lightly and went for a double air kiss. It seemed to have the desired effect.

She thrust a champagne glass in my hand. As she led me to the group by my arm with one hand, her other hand slid down to the small of my back and made a small circling motion.

I tried to remain calm. I resisted the urge to flinch or appear in anyway uncomfortable and decided to imagine it was Harry's hand on the small of my back lingering with unashamed possessiveness.

"Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome Robyn, my lamb to the slaughter."

"Excuse me?"

"I trust you know no one here?"

I shook my head.

"As I thought, lamb to the slaughter."

She nuzzled her nose in close to my hair and whispered, "Let me save you, Robyn."

I caught a whiff of her perfume. It was subtle, but with a surprising strength that seemed to linger. As I breathed I felt my mind soak it up like a sponge. Suddenly her words became as important to me as air was to breathe.

Her eyes were glinting emeralds. In equal measures, both mesmerizing and mysterious. It was almost impossible to break her gaze.

A man with a shaven head and dark, magnetic eyes reminded me of the Hollywood star Yul Brynner in his younger days in the Magnificent Seven. In his early thirties, Kublai had the same exotically handsome swagger, minus the cowboy hat, of course. But it was Kublai's eyes that transfixed me.

One was brown, the other blue. The rarest combination and eerily beautiful. His eyes led me to believe he was warm and friendly and burgeoning with animal lust and yet he could also be cold, intellectual and perhaps even cruel.

He bowed elegantly before me while never relinquishing eye contact.

He took my hand and kissed it.

With a soulful voice that seemed to erupt from deep within the earth, he said, "Never before, Robyn, has beauty possessed me as this moment by yours."

Dismissively I joked, "You should see me in the mornings with my fat pillow face that looks like a cat camped out on it."

His glinting eyes winked, "I hope to have that honor. Soon."

I flushed hot.

She whisked me away.

"Who was that?"

Davina giggled. "Kublai Khan, always a flair for the dramatic. Shall I see if I can find someone a little less intense?"

"The same Khan with his name on the new sports center?"

"He does have a rash tendency to fritter away his billions on his childish whims. But we indulge him"

Her smile vanished and her eyes narrowed. "Mind, Robyn, you don't become his next muse."

"No fear of that."

She studied me with an intense curiosity. "Robyn, Khan hides his perversions in plain sight."

"Perversions?"

"Sick games. He will play with his prey and you won't even realize it, until it’s too late."

I had no idea what she was alluding too, but felt compelled to reassure her.

"I feel safe with you around, Davina."

Her smile returned.

She introduced me to a small, rotund graying man as the Dean of Kimberley.

"A new student of Davina's?"

I nodded. "Luckily, yes."

"You must be impressive to get an invite so soon into the new semester. Won't you come to my party at the weekend?"