Mean Sisters: A sassy, hilariously funny murder mystery. Lindsay Emory

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СКАЧАТЬ worked through the implications of all this strange, yet juicy information. ‘She doesn’t think that the Moos put a hit out on Liza, does she?’ I asked, lowering my voice in case the room was bugged. It was almost unbelievable. But these were Tri Mus we were talking about.

      My eyes widened as Casey nodded, slowly. I looked around the office again, wondering if it was secure. What did a bug or a mic look like, anyway? I’d have to tear the office apart again to make sure the Tri Mus didn’t have some secret listening device hidden away in here. I picked up a Delta Beta stuffed honeybee off the bookshelf. I hope I didn’t have to rip her apart like they did in the movies. That would be tragic.

      ‘Is she afraid that my phone’s tapped, too?’ I whispered.

      Casey’s grim look was all the answer I needed.

      Because Casey couldn’t stay in the sorority house (yes, I know, I said he was as good as a member but he still had a penis and rules are rules), I went with him to the Fountain Place Inn, an historic motel just off campus. I remembered the place well, from my college days. It was where my mom and dad always stayed when they visited me, in separate rooms, sometimes on separate floors. The story was that Mom snored. Or that Dad slept around with every slut on the Florida panhandle. It was one or the other.

      Casey checked in and I went up to his room with him, still feeling a little uneasy about the news from Atlanta. Plus, at the Fountain Place, we could talk more openly. I didn’t think the Tri Mus had the wherewithal to bug every room in Sutton.

      We laid back on the bed and Casey popped open a flask with the Deb crest on it, mixing drinks with the over-priced sodas from the motel vending machines. I told him everything that had happened in the last thirty-six hours, knowing that he would understand both my heartbreak and my concern for the chapter.

      ‘Oh!’ I sat up reaching for my phone. ‘We need to get together with Amanda!’ It was too exciting, the thought of my two best friends finally meeting each other. We could go out and hit the Sutton bar scene, which consisted of three establishments lined up on the north side of campus. The town’s forefathers had been pretty strict about that aspect of city planning. I tried calling Amanda three times, but it went to voicemail each time. On the fourth try, I received an automated message that said her voicemail was full. There must have been a Panhellenic emergency to deal with.

      When it got too late to go out (we were, after all, in our late twenties), Casey drove me back to the Deb house. I entered the secret door code that was the same code at every Delta Beta sorority house around the country. Our tech guys at HQ said that was a security risk, but tradition was more important than potential intruders.

      As Chapter Advisor, it was my duty to check the house and make sure all was well before going up to my room. I wandered through the first floor, picked up a few pieces of trash and stacked a few magazines. It may surprise some to know that college women aren’t always the neatest people. I opened the door to the chapter room, which was still lit softly by the small bulbs in the wooden display cases, accenting just some of the trophies and awards that the house had won in the past seventy years. There were a lot: national awards from HQ, to Panhellenic awards, Sigma Chi Derby Day trophies. Looking at these physical reminders of Delta Beta’s excellence only reinforced my belief that Mrs Barbra Kline of Mu Mu Mu was full of it. Nothing was bringing this chapter down.

      The last stop on my rounds was the Chapter Advisor’s office. I flipped on a light as I went through the kitchen, turned left down the back hall and noticed at the last minute that the office door was cracked. I was one hundred percent sure that I had locked that door when I left with Casey. Of course I had, with the tale of inter-sorority espionage that he was weaving. I’d never underestimate those Moos.

      But the door was definitely cracked. With a pounding heart, I reached my hand out and slowly pushed the door open. Halfway through, I paused. It was absolutely idiotic to go through this door. There could be anyone in there, just waiting to murder me like they murdered Liza. I tip-toed back to the kitchen, grabbed a large stainless steel spatula and headed back. If someone was in there, they were going to get slapped upside the head. This spatula was industrial strength. I bet it could do some damage.

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