The house was a freaking maze.
As I went up, I was in luck again. I'd found her room. It spanned the entire fourth floor. It looked like a small apartment with a kitchenette in one corner and couches set up in the middle. The living area was immaculate. She hadn't even left a magazine out. Next, I looked around her bed and dresser. Other than a pledge pin with my name on it, nothing stuck out as weird or obsessive. So far, the room wasn't matching my mental image of Cadence. The room seemed normal. There were no signs of the psycho that was hidden deep in her soul. Then I opened her closet and my eyes got wide.
Pictures. Pictures. Pictures.
There seemed to be a thousand photographs taped to the walls of her closet. Even if I tried, I didn't think I could know enough people to get that many photos. I looked closer and saw that each one was of Cadence with another person. Some were celebrities, some looked like politicians. One caught my interest and I grabbed it. Bryce smiled back at me. He was in his soccer uniform from Spain with his arm around her. She was beaming. Bryce looked like he'd just played a game. His hair and uniform were both soaked in sweat.
When the hell had this been taken?
Then I spied another picture. It was of Denton and he had his arm around Cadence like in Bryce's photograph, except he wore a black tuxedo and they looked like they were toasting to something with their drinks.
I grabbed both photos and then finished my search of her room. I didn't really know what I was looking for, but I figured I'd know it when I saw it. And I knew I'd found it when I moved a pillow and discovered Cadence's diary. It didn't look like much, just a small brown leather journal. I put it in my back pocket and turned to leave.
As I went downstairs, I peeked where the television was on and saw two pledges sprawled on the couches. One was snoring and the other had her head nestled underneath the cushions. I turned to go, but a picture on the wall stopped me. It was a house photo of all the sisters. Dated for the previous year, I skimmed over the names and recognized a few from my classes. One name I saw that I didn't expect was Dorothy Rossi. I matched the name to the face and gasped when I saw it was the waitress from Sparky's.
The one who loathed all things Greek.
She had the same red braids but was dressed in the same red dress as the other sisters. She looked happy, glowing even.
I didn't even want to guess what changed her.
Abruptly, the television shut off, and I left before I was caught. I didn't dare look inside the room again to see if the pledges had woken up or not. I didn't care. I needed to get the hell out of there. When I got outside, I cut across the backyard and through the gate.
I hurried to my car and then drove towards the hotel.
After I got to my room, I poured myself a drink and studied my two stolen mementos. Bryce and Denton. Why both of them? Did Cadence know them personally? Was she a groupie and nabbed their autograph with the picture? She had pictures of other celebrities on that wall. Why in her closet? Why not out in the open? As I thought about it, I realized that all of the pictures on display around her room were of her friends and family, which was normal, but why hide the photographs of the celebrities?
I had a feeling that I wasn't going to be able to intimidate Cadence into submission. She was cunning, and she had friends, lots of friends. I needed to get at her some other way. When I finished my drink, I fixed another and wondered where to go from here. Did I have a next move? I saw my phone on the counter and cursed. I knew what I needed to do but hesitated.
The phone trembled in my hand as I scrolled through my contacts. I held my breath until I heard Denton answer. "Sheldon?"
"I didn't know if this number still worked." I wasn't as relieved as I sounded. Denton had answers that I needed, but he'd bring his own trouble.
He laughed, "Well, it works. This is the only number Mena remembers so I kept it for her. Everyone else has my other numbers."
"I have a favor to ask." Politeness aside, I needed answers.
Denton chuckled. "Same old Sheldon. What can I do for you?" His voice seemed to sneak over the line and unravel something in me. I could almost feel his caress.
I paused for a second and told myself that I had no other choice. "Can you come here? I have a question to ask you."
"Sure. Where are you?"
"Wilshire Hotel. Room 617."
"Give me an hour. I'm at my house."
"That's fine. I'm not going anywhere." After I ended the call, I stayed on the bed for a minute. The instant I invited him to my room, I regretted it. The problem was that I needed to see him in person to ask about Cadence. I needed to see his face.
Rather than make another drink, I grabbed the bottle and settled back. An hour later, with the bottle half gone, I was on the patio when I heard a knock at the door. I had showered and tried my best to rewrap my dressings, but I hoped I didn't look as hideous as I must have in the hospital. For some reason I cared.
As I opened the door, I had to grin. Denton stood with a pink rose in his hand. Casually dressed in jeans and a white polo, he looked like he'd just showered. He had a small smile on his face, as if he were proud. Everything about him was like a burst of fresh air. That was when I realized that, Denton had become a friend. No idea how, but he had.
He extended the flower. "I figured you'd need something to liven up the room. Hotels get boring after awhile."
As I shut the door behind him, I commented, "Pink is a very 'friendly' color."
"I got the message at the hospital. No touching." He smirked.
"It's more like—I don't need any more drama in my life." Still, I couldn't hide my grin as I found a glass for it.
"Your two 'besties' provide enough." He flashed a smile. "Mena taught me that word. I think it's ridiculous, but it's fun to say."
"More like all their female groupies bring the drama."
I didn't ask about her. This wasn't the time or place.
"I can imagine." His eyes twinkled, and he scratched the back of his neck. "So, lay it on me. What do you need to ask me? What do I need to do for you?"
I threw down the picture of him and Cadence. "How do you know her? Where was this taken? How long ago? Do you still talk to her?"
He picked up the photo to inspect it better and held up a hand. "Hold on, Sheldon. Whoa. I…who is this? I…wait…I do know her. She's a Hempler. She's well connected." His eyes widened. "Sheldon are you going after her? I'd be cautious. Her dad owns the Hempler Diamonds chain."
As I went up, I was in luck again. I'd found her room. It spanned the entire fourth floor. It looked like a small apartment with a kitchenette in one corner and couches set up in the middle. The living area was immaculate. She hadn't even left a magazine out. Next, I looked around her bed and dresser. Other than a pledge pin with my name on it, nothing stuck out as weird or obsessive. So far, the room wasn't matching my mental image of Cadence. The room seemed normal. There were no signs of the psycho that was hidden deep in her soul. Then I opened her closet and my eyes got wide.
Pictures. Pictures. Pictures.
There seemed to be a thousand photographs taped to the walls of her closet. Even if I tried, I didn't think I could know enough people to get that many photos. I looked closer and saw that each one was of Cadence with another person. Some were celebrities, some looked like politicians. One caught my interest and I grabbed it. Bryce smiled back at me. He was in his soccer uniform from Spain with his arm around her. She was beaming. Bryce looked like he'd just played a game. His hair and uniform were both soaked in sweat.
When the hell had this been taken?
Then I spied another picture. It was of Denton and he had his arm around Cadence like in Bryce's photograph, except he wore a black tuxedo and they looked like they were toasting to something with their drinks.
I grabbed both photos and then finished my search of her room. I didn't really know what I was looking for, but I figured I'd know it when I saw it. And I knew I'd found it when I moved a pillow and discovered Cadence's diary. It didn't look like much, just a small brown leather journal. I put it in my back pocket and turned to leave.
As I went downstairs, I peeked where the television was on and saw two pledges sprawled on the couches. One was snoring and the other had her head nestled underneath the cushions. I turned to go, but a picture on the wall stopped me. It was a house photo of all the sisters. Dated for the previous year, I skimmed over the names and recognized a few from my classes. One name I saw that I didn't expect was Dorothy Rossi. I matched the name to the face and gasped when I saw it was the waitress from Sparky's.
The one who loathed all things Greek.
She had the same red braids but was dressed in the same red dress as the other sisters. She looked happy, glowing even.
I didn't even want to guess what changed her.
Abruptly, the television shut off, and I left before I was caught. I didn't dare look inside the room again to see if the pledges had woken up or not. I didn't care. I needed to get the hell out of there. When I got outside, I cut across the backyard and through the gate.
I hurried to my car and then drove towards the hotel.
After I got to my room, I poured myself a drink and studied my two stolen mementos. Bryce and Denton. Why both of them? Did Cadence know them personally? Was she a groupie and nabbed their autograph with the picture? She had pictures of other celebrities on that wall. Why in her closet? Why not out in the open? As I thought about it, I realized that all of the pictures on display around her room were of her friends and family, which was normal, but why hide the photographs of the celebrities?
I had a feeling that I wasn't going to be able to intimidate Cadence into submission. She was cunning, and she had friends, lots of friends. I needed to get at her some other way. When I finished my drink, I fixed another and wondered where to go from here. Did I have a next move? I saw my phone on the counter and cursed. I knew what I needed to do but hesitated.
The phone trembled in my hand as I scrolled through my contacts. I held my breath until I heard Denton answer. "Sheldon?"
"I didn't know if this number still worked." I wasn't as relieved as I sounded. Denton had answers that I needed, but he'd bring his own trouble.
He laughed, "Well, it works. This is the only number Mena remembers so I kept it for her. Everyone else has my other numbers."
"I have a favor to ask." Politeness aside, I needed answers.
Denton chuckled. "Same old Sheldon. What can I do for you?" His voice seemed to sneak over the line and unravel something in me. I could almost feel his caress.
I paused for a second and told myself that I had no other choice. "Can you come here? I have a question to ask you."
"Sure. Where are you?"
"Wilshire Hotel. Room 617."
"Give me an hour. I'm at my house."
"That's fine. I'm not going anywhere." After I ended the call, I stayed on the bed for a minute. The instant I invited him to my room, I regretted it. The problem was that I needed to see him in person to ask about Cadence. I needed to see his face.
Rather than make another drink, I grabbed the bottle and settled back. An hour later, with the bottle half gone, I was on the patio when I heard a knock at the door. I had showered and tried my best to rewrap my dressings, but I hoped I didn't look as hideous as I must have in the hospital. For some reason I cared.
As I opened the door, I had to grin. Denton stood with a pink rose in his hand. Casually dressed in jeans and a white polo, he looked like he'd just showered. He had a small smile on his face, as if he were proud. Everything about him was like a burst of fresh air. That was when I realized that, Denton had become a friend. No idea how, but he had.
He extended the flower. "I figured you'd need something to liven up the room. Hotels get boring after awhile."
As I shut the door behind him, I commented, "Pink is a very 'friendly' color."
"I got the message at the hospital. No touching." He smirked.
"It's more like—I don't need any more drama in my life." Still, I couldn't hide my grin as I found a glass for it.
"Your two 'besties' provide enough." He flashed a smile. "Mena taught me that word. I think it's ridiculous, but it's fun to say."
"More like all their female groupies bring the drama."
I didn't ask about her. This wasn't the time or place.
"I can imagine." His eyes twinkled, and he scratched the back of his neck. "So, lay it on me. What do you need to ask me? What do I need to do for you?"
I threw down the picture of him and Cadence. "How do you know her? Where was this taken? How long ago? Do you still talk to her?"
He picked up the photo to inspect it better and held up a hand. "Hold on, Sheldon. Whoa. I…who is this? I…wait…I do know her. She's a Hempler. She's well connected." His eyes widened. "Sheldon are you going after her? I'd be cautious. Her dad owns the Hempler Diamonds chain."
