A Deadly Sorority (Book #1 Sorority Horrors)

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My intuition was in a state of panic as a chilling thought penetrated my mind: 

The Crimson Lake Killer, a deranged psychopath was determined to hunt me down and thrust me into a world of oblivion.

I shivered, feeling chills tingle down my spine.

In addition to being on his list of prey, I no longer knew who to trust. As of now, Kennedy was my sole confidante, the only person who hadn't yet given me reason to doubt. But the thought of Kennedy sharing my attack with Mark seemed very off- how would she have known? I had to get to the bottom of it, and soon.

As for Patricia, her behavior was a tad bit suspicious. I mean, she was caught with John at that rundown shack and the hardware store buying tools. That was enough to put her under a microscope. Although Patricia didn't strike me as someone who would willingly assist a serial killer, John, on the other hand, was definitely questionable. However, he would soon be under my watch, like a thumb pressed firmly on a tack that needed to be shoved back into the wall.

Given John's strange behavior, Sabrina, my former roommate and now his live-in girlfriend, must have sensed something was off too. After all, how could she not?

Detective Johnson offered to provide around-the-clock security for me, but that seemed a bit outlandish—I mean, I'm not some big-shot celebrity. However, I did agree to have Officer Raymond, a veteran cop with fifteen years on the force, come to my residence and check on me every evening. I would also be connected to him via text message, so I could alert him whenever I felt unsafe.

Back in my apartment after a day full of classes, it was time not only to rest but also to plan how I would track John's whereabouts. In addition, I needed to start tracking Steve as well.

But first, I needed to find out what was up with Mark. His sudden distance and avoidance had me concerned. The only person who could help me with that was Kennedy. After all, Mark didn't start avoiding me until after Kennedy supposedly shared details of that midnight attack with him.

I snatched my cell phone from the computer desk and scrolled through my call log with my pointer finger, searching for Kennedy's name. Once it appeared, I hit the green call button and pressed the phone to my ear.

"Hello?" Kennedy answered.

"Hey, Kennedy!" I greeted.

"Hi, Kayla. What's up?"

"It's about Mark. I need to talk to you—it's really important."

Kennedy gasped, sending a wave of terror through me.

"What's wrong, Kennedy?" I asked, furrowing my brows as I tugged the phone closer to my ear.

"Oh... uh... um..." She stammered, "I'm just really busy right now, Kayla. I'm sorry. I can't meet anytime soon."

"Not even for a quick thirty minutes?" I pleaded, feeling the sting of abandonment with my heart caught in my throat.

"No, Kayla. I've got AP classes, and my schedule's packed. There's tennis practice every day after school, not to mention track and field, and my part-time job at the ice cream parlor."

"Well, maybe we can talk during our track meet?" I suggested, desperation seeping into my voice.

"Maybe," Kennedy replied unenthusiastically.

Frustration seethed within me, fierce and relentless like a tiger on the hunt. "Kennedy, the Crimson Lake Killer is after me, and I need to figure out who it is!"

***

I felt lonely, wishing I could confide in those close to me, but it seemed I couldn't—not now, anyway. This made me desperately wish Lorena was back in Irvine.

Reminiscing about the many times she had dragged me to the bars in downtown Irvine, exhilaration flowed through me. We always had fun. Drinking and dancing wildly in the streets. Those were fond memories I cherished. I needed her with me again; I knew she would be the perfect co-investigator, gathering clues and peering into windows. I giggled to myself. Those cherished thoughts temporarily relieved the multitude of stressors I was currently contending with.

I assumed those feelings about Lorena were swimming to the surface after feeling abandoned by my best friend, Kennedy. She was acting quite odd, similar to the way Mark was behaving as if they were intentionally avoiding me. 

My thoughts slipped back to that fearful night when Mark's text came through as I sat in the interrogation room, puzzled by his knowledge of the events.

Just then, my phone chimed, pulling me from my thoughts.

Incoming Call: Steve

My heart thumped against the walls of my chest and somersaulted as my breath lodged in my throat.

Should I answer or not?

I quickly tapped the red dot, ending the call.

Breathing out a sigh of relief, I decided I didn't want to talk to Steve right now—not until I could confirm his criminal record.

Suddenly, a knock at the door jolted my senses awake. My eyes widened as I pondered on who it could be.

Could it possibly be Officer Raymond? 

I gazed down at the watch on my wrist. It was too early in the day, and he had promised to send me a text message before his arrival, letting me know he'd be on his way. 

Standing up from my cozy position on the couch, I tip-toed toward the door. Peeping through the peephole, I saw Steve standing outside. I gulped and placed my hand on my forehead.

He knocked once more. "Hey, Kayla! You in there?"

I clapped my hand over my mouth as I realized my breathing was becoming labored and rapid. Tip-toeing backward, I inadvertently tripped over my large Fiddle Leaf Fig tree; dirt tumbled out, and the ceramic vase shattered into pieces.

Shit!

Now Steve knew I was home.

A knot tightened in my throat, and my body began to shake as anxiety sent tremors through me.

I quickly shot Lorena a text message, letting her know my unfortunate predicament.

Kayla: Steve's at the door, and I have to answer it because I knocked over the plant, making a loud noise. He knows I'm home. Please check back with me soon; I'm about to open the door for him.

I set my phone on the entryway table and steadied my breath.

"Hey, Kayla!" Steve greeted with a half-smile.

"Hi, Steve!" I plastered on a smile, trying to appear inconspicuous, although my heart was beating a million miles a minute.

"How are you?" His eyes zeroed into mine.

"Uh.. I'm.. ugh. Good." I stammered, "Everything is great!" I lied.

"Are you sure?" he asked, furrowing his brows while an expression of skepticism crossed his face.

"Yes," I confirmed, nodding, my smile growing wider, "Everything is great!"

"Well, I'm here because I thought we could drive out to the country together and check if John is back at that old shack," he explained. "And if not, maybe we can look for clues in that area."

I rolled my eyes. "Steve, I don't have time right now." I replied, " Why don't you just go and investigate it yourself? I'm sorry, but I'm super busy studying," I lied, trying to persuade Steve to leave and go search for the clues by himself.

His expression turned to one of puzzlement. "I thought we were in this together." he shrugged.

"I know, Steve." My eyes darted to the floor. "I'm seriously super busy, though. Plus, I have a track meet coming up."

"So, you don't want to find this killer?" Steve inquired, his eyebrows knitting together in anger. "What if you're killed next, huh?"