A Deadly Sorority (Book #1 Sorority Horrors)

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Lorena and I tried to get all the information we could about Albert Schiff from Trisha, but she held onto it tightly, clearly reluctant to discuss her uncle with us any further. It was frustrating, but Lorena and I eventually decided it was time to call it a night.

"Well, it was nice talking with you," Lorena told Trisha as she pulled out her phone to order an Uber.

"Nice talking with you girls, too." She replied as she wiped down the bar with a blue rag, "Maybe I'll see you all around town. And don't be afraid to use my number; I don't bite." She smiled.

While we waited inside the bar, Lorena glanced at her phone and pointed.

"Here's our driver," she said, holding up her brightly lit screen, "His name is Alejandro, and he's driving a black Camry."

Alejandro arrived quickly. Lorena opened the back door of the Camry, and we slid onto the leather seats.

Before we left, though, Lorena had made sure to exchange numbers with Trisha.. She was convinced Trisha could be a goldmine of information, and honestly, I couldn't agree more.

"Hello!" The Uber driver greeted us; turning his head, he gazed our way, watching while we climbed into the backseat. His hair was slicked back into a ponytail, and bushy eyebrows decorated his face, resembling the bushy-eyed muppet from Sesame Street.

I shut the door behind me, using all my strength in my tipsy state of being. Grabbing the seatbelt strap, I pulled it over my shoulder and buckled myself in. Lorena did the same.

"Long night at the bar, I take it." He commented as he turned his head back to his windshield, staring out at the road ahead.

Lorena nodded. I just wanted him to stop speaking entirely and just take us home.

"I'm Alejandro." He said, smiling.

"We know." Lorena replied, "It tell us on the app." 

Alejandro nodded, "That's right. I'm so new to this Ubering thing." 

A drift of silent hung among us. The only sounds we could hear were Alejandro's steering of the wheel and the pressing of his foot against the accelerator after each stop. 

"How are you ladies doing this evening?" He inquired, his brown eyes peering back at us through the rearview mirror. 

"Fine." Lorena replied unenthusiastically. Her voice slow and sluggish, barely escaping her lips. I didn't even have the energy to reply, so I nodded my head at Lorena's response, agreeing with her that I was fine too. Hopefully our exhausted and near drunken state wasn't too telling. 

I gazed out the window, watching as we drove away from the Moonlight Den. From the outside, it looked like a dilapidated shack, similar to the one Steve had described to me back in Irvine—the one where he saw John carrying a large black bag. And with that thought...

Whatever happened to John? And Sandra?!

"Have you spoken to Sandra?" I turned my head, gazing at Lorena's profile. Her eyes were pinched shut, and her head leaned back into the headrest. I wondered if she was sleeping.

"Sandra?" Lorena asked, her eyes still shut.

"Yes. I haven't spoken to her since I left Irvine. I wonder how she's doing."

"I haven't spoken to anyone from Irvine since my mom dragged me back to San Francisco," Lorena explained. "Except for you, of course."

I just hoped Sandra was alright and that nothing bad had happened to her. After all, John was at the top of our list of suspects—and as far as I was concerned, he still was.