by BG Archer
“Okay, so some kid is going through old books and leaving his tag?”
Stacy held up her Droid. She tapped on the photo album and scrolled through a couple of pictures, before she handed the phone to Katie.
It was a picture of a giant form of the yin yang symbol, and it was clearly taken someplace dark and damp.
“Scroll to the left,” Stacy said.
Katie did, and found three more yin yang graffiti pictures. She didn’t recognize the location of the second and third pictures, but the fourth she recognized. It was from near the railroad tracks across town, located by the very few warehouses Asheville had. It was sprayed about the size of a door and was obviously on the brick back wall of one of those buildings.
“I’ve been working on this for some time now, and I thought it was time to show you everything I’ve found.”
“Okay, so there’s some tagger that really likes to paint that image,” Katie said looking up at Stacy.
“Right, except now look at the pictures you took the night of Dan Reedman’s death. Of his room.”
Katie pulled out her iPhone and scrolled to the photo album she had of those pictures. She knew them well, but she still wasn’t entirely sure what Stacy wanted her to look for. It was there on the third picture, right under her nose. It only took her about six seconds of staring at it before she spotted it, in the bottom right hand corner of the frame. Katie had been so busy looking at everything else about the picture, for clues, for anything she hadn’t been looking at the basic shapes of the room … like the bed frame next to Dan’s desk. On the wooden leg of the bed with a black sharpie, somebody had drawn the same dime-sized strange yin-yang symbol.
“I have a confession, Katie. I agreed to help you partly because I saw that picture and saw the symbol right away, and knew it was somehow tied to this club I’ve been tracking now for the better part of two years. I mean … I had whispers, I had rumors, and I had these symbols … but this was more. This wasn’t just something that they were involved with, this was, is, murder. I just couldn’t resist,” she added with a rye grin.
Katie wasn’t upset. She got it.
“Okay, it’s totally fine, but you gotta have more than just some symbols for me to buy some secret club on campus, some secret society. Walk me through it.”
Stacy nodded. “Oh trust me, I will.”
She started from the beginning, and she had created a slide show on her Air, pictures dating back two years prior.
“So, I have another confession … I’ve always been a bit of a conspiracy nut. Started when I was first hitting up message boards back in middle school, and it’s sort of stayed with me ever since. Now I know most the shit I read and hear about is totally bonkers. But like we already stated, where there’s smoke, there’s usually at least some fire. So when I started researching schools I wanted to go to, one thing popped out about SCU. I knew I wanted to go here, partly because I got a pretty good scholarship and partly because the dance program here is thumbs up solid. The other thing is there is this prevailing myth out there about a few higher education secret societies. Everybody's heard of the Sculls … and of course there are way too many jokes about the Illuminati and Free Masons. There was another society that keeps popping up. The Saints. Their symbol is that same yin yang symbol. Maybe they have another name. Maybe that’s The Brotherhood. Anyway, when I took the tour, I made an effort of looking around and that’s when I found the first symbol on the building. Over the last few years I’ve followed every rumor, every hint online and around campus.”
As she talked, Stacy was very animated, and it was obvious to Katie that she had been waiting to tell her about this for some time. It occurred to Katie that Stacy had probably told very few if anybody all about her theories.
“The thing is, while I know there is this society here on campus, I can’t prove it. I have a list of people I suspect are in it, but no real proof.”
“Why not?”
Stacy looked at Katie and sighed. “Because I can’t do this full time. It’s more of a hobby. The other thing was that Dan Reedman was on the top of my list as a potential Saint’s member, and that was before his untimely death. When you brought me all this stuff…”
“You knew there was a connection.”
“Exactly.”
“Okay great. So there’s some secret society on campus that has power and influence and may be directly involved with two students’ deaths … So now what?”
The tall dancer looked confused. “Now what, what?”
“Now what do we do about it? We’re trying to find and catch what we are both presuming is an actual murderer who is currently getting away with it.”
Stacy sat back down in front of her computer and sighed. “I mean, I have a couple of ideas, but I’m not sure if you’re going to like them.”
Katie folded her arms across her chest. “Why, what are they?”
It took another twenty minutes for Stacy to carefully lie out her two plans, and another half hour to convince Katie the game plan actually made sense.
Finally Katie and Stacy agreed and they shook on it.
“How long is it going to take you?” Katie asked.
“With the second part?”
“Yeah.”
“I’ve already started, but with finals and everything this break will hopefully let me get a real jump on it. Could be done when we come back next semester. Of course we won’t really know until I have all the pieces if this part actually works…”
“Of course. But at this point it’s our best option.”
“And it’s why we also have the first part.”
“I’m still leery about that.”
“Catching a murderer isn’t without its risks.”
“I know. I’m just saying … we should be cautious of what we are doing. It’s not exactly legal.”
As Katie was leaving the library, she saw Tiffany outside through the second story window, walking at a far brisker pace than Katie was used to seeing her roommate normally move at.
That wasn’t necessarily strange in of it self, but the fact that Tiffany had specifically told Katie she would be swimming at that time perked Katie’s curiosity. She didn’t think about it, but Katie quickly took the stairs and followed after her roommate.
31
4:53PM Saturday, December 8th
It took Katie a second to find Tiffany once she exited the library. Her blonde friend was already at the edge of a crowd of students walking down the express walkway towards the art buildings and the school’s museum.(font changed)
For an instant Katie considered calling out to her, but instinct took over and she fought the urge. There was something … not right about how Tiffany was walking. Something off.
Katie knew it was none of her business, but after the meeting she had just had with Stacy about secret societies and a possible killer still on the loose, her sense of paranoia had certainly increased. Besides, she was curious.
Katie had made the split second decision that there was no real harm in following Tiffany. After all, aside from more studying and talking to Gideon, there was nowhere she actually had to be. Besides, wasn’t there some new exhibit up in the museum? It would serve her well to check it out.
She took off at a brisk jog to keep sight of Tiffany, though she remained back a hundred yards. Since Katie was wearing her staple green jacket, her skinniest jeans, Chucks, and her messenger bag, she was aware she stood out, but Tiffany seemed utterly oblivious to everything around her aside from whatever her destination was. The blonde teen really did seem like she was in a hurry.
Tiffany headed past the art buildings right toward the large glass wall that was the entrance to the SCU museum. Katie ducked down and took a long drink from the water fountain in the quad in front of the museum entrance while her friend entered the museum, counting to twenty silently before following after Tiffany.
For a few minutes Katie couldn’t find Tiffany, and for a moment she worried that maybe her frie
nd had just gone straight through the building and had exited out the back.
That was until she rounded the corner and spotted Tiffany staring at a large glass statue. It was of a woman with her hands cuffed behind her back and doubled over on the ground, while a man stared down at her, a whip in his hand. The sculpture was to size, and the title in thick red block letters underneath it read MODERN SOCIETY.
Tiffany stared at the statue for a long time and Katie made her way over to the corner of the gallery room. Katie pretended to focus her attention on the still life in the gold frame in front of her, but really it was on Tiffany.
Maybe she had just finished swim earlier. Maybe she really did just like overdone bad modern art, like a guilty pleasure. Maybe Katie was just becoming far too paranoid, and should really know who her new friends were.
As all those thoughts streamed through her head, Katie saw a familiar man move up next to Tiffany, and it was like she could hear a glass smashing in her head.
He had altered his appearance since the last time Katie had seen him, but it still only took her all of five seconds before she placed who he was; the man from the night of the party. The last man Katie had seen talking to Dan Reedman. The man who had given Dan the thumb drive. The man in the North Face jacket.
He was wearing a baseball cap pushed forward and a navy blue turtle neck and dark brown dress pants, and for a moment it appeared like he was ignoring Tiffany and also just admiring the sculpture.
Katie moved down one painting along the far gallery wall, so she could get a better angle on him. When she moved it was obvious they were talking, in quiet whispers while they continued to stare straight ahead.
She couldn’t hear what they were saying, but whatever it was there was a lot of heat to their voices. The fragments of tone that Katie could hear sounded harsh, like Tiffany was very unhappy with the mysterious man.
Katie hesitated for a second before she risked it and moved one more painting down the wall. She was about fifty feet away from them now. If Tiffany merely turned to her left and looked over her shoulder she would spot her, no doubt about it.
Once she was closer it was very obvious that Tiffany was doing the majority of the talking, and she was upset, while the man’s response were short, single sentences and even single word responses.
Tiffany turned to her right and looked at him in disgust before she blasted past him, storming out of the gallery hall past Katie, not even noticing her. That was partly because as soon as she turned Katie ducked down and pretending to tie her shoe, obscuring her face at the same time. She froze in place until Tiffany turned the corner, and when she looked up the man was also gone.
Where?
Katie jogged to the statue and looked. The hallway went to the right, and the back entrance was at the end of the hall, and the door was closing just as she looked in that direction. Any pretense of sneaking was gone and Katie ran after him, determined to get some answers.
The two other students in the final hall looked at Katie funny as she suddenly took off in a sprint down the hall, but Katie ignored them.
She hit the exit and pushed the door open, looking right and left. Instinctively Katie reached into her messenger bag and wrapped her hand around her familiar black cylinder object. She was ready to go, ready to face the man.
Except he seemed to have vanished into thin air.
Katie paced up and down the gallery court yard, but he had just up and vanished. She could feel her heart racing. Katie had always thought seeing the man again would give her more answers, but it had only led to more questions. The bottom of her stomach seemed to have dropped into a black hole. Not only did she not know he was, but her roommate did. And he was connected to Dan Reedman’s case. To his murder. Katie was one hundred percent certain of it. Which meant … Tiffany was too. Her own roommate.
In her mind Katie played back through the events of that fateful evening, and she realized that for the period about five minutes before the murder, she had no clue where Tiffany was. Of course her memory was fuzzy, but suddenly her roommate had gone from her dear friend and occasional … bed buddy to a different list.
Tiffany was possibly involved in Dan Reedman’s murder.
32
8:45 PM Tuesday, December 11th
Katie was sitting next to Stacy and across from Gideon in his apartment living room. They were all around his kitchen table, and the only thing on the sparse wooden surface was a stack of photos. Gideon was not looking at either of the women, but rather at the stack.
“You seriously want me to run this?” he asked.
“It’s the only way.”
“We’ve been over this a hundred different ways, and it really is, Gideon,” Katie added, reaching out and touching Gideon’s elbow.
“It’s stupid and dangerous. Not to mention questionable reporting. It’s a student newspaper, not a tabloid.”
Katie and Stacy exchanged a look. They had had a feeling Gideon would react this way, but they had come prepared.
“It kind of is all of those things, but you know what else it is? The right thing to do.”
He finally looked up at them. “How can you say that?”
“Because it will help catch an actual killer.”
Gideon held up his hands. “They already caught the murderer.”
Katie couldn’t help herself and rolled her eyes. “You really believe that?”
Gideon just looked back at her for a long moment and sighed. “Not even slightly.”
“Right. And here you are, sitting on a hot news story that will not only be reporting the truth, but it will put the real killer, someone who has quite possibly murdered not one but two people that we know of sweating.”
“You do realize it could also just paint big targets on our backs. After all, if there really is someone out there that’s perfectly willing to not just murder one person, but then go and kill another person and frame them for it, that’s someone who is not just dangerous, but also utterly and totally a psychopath. Someone who’s very good at it, and can easily blend in among the rest of us,” Gideon said.
Katie looked at him for a long time and smiled. “So you’re just as excited by this as I am, aren’t you?”
He sighed again. The sigh said it all. The girls had won. He would do it, even if there was still debate left for what exactly he would write, and how much he was willing to help.
It didn’t matter though. Him agreeing to do it at all was the silver bullet.
“I can’t publish anything till we get back from break,” he added.
“We know, that gives me enough time to work on another angle,” Stacy said.
“Another angle?”
Stacy stood up and squeezed Katie’s shoulder. “I’ll let Katie tell you all about it. I really need to go. I have an Econ final I need to study for. I can see myself out,” Stacy added, as she turned and headed for the front door.
Katie and Gideon waved goodbye, but remained silent until after she was out of the apartment and the door was shut. Katie’s hand was still on his elbow. He looked at her, a question in his eyes. She looked at him right back, a sparkle in hers.
“So … You want me to tell me about the other angle?” he asked.
“Sure, but first I want you to put me at an angle,” she said.
Gideon didn’t say anything, but he did get up and squeeze her arm. Katie didn’t say anything else either, but she did sigh happily as he lifted her up and pushed the photos to the side, her butt resting on the kitchen table.
33
9:17PM Wednesday, December 19th
For the first time since Katie had started high school, it was actually snowing around Christmas back in the city. She had been home since earlier the previous Saturday morning, and in some ways had already fallen back into the routine of being home.
The only thing was being actually in the house didn’t really feel like her own home it felt … different. Like a dream of her old bedroom and the house, rather than it actually
being hers.
It was nice to see Arthur on a more regular basis, but the truth was he was still completely occupied with work. Still, he was in good spirits with her being home. Being able to make him dinner so that when he came home from long days at the office he could just sit down, were both satisfying for her and a silent relief for him.
It was also nice to catch up with old high school friends who were back for the holidays, though precious few of “the old guard” were actually in town. Some had opted to stay back East at their selective schools, while others were either at some other family member’s house or in a few select cases were skiing and posting an absurd amount of pictures of it on Instagram.
In that particular moment Katie was enjoying a nice buzz from some of the spiked eggnog she had been drinking and was lying on her bed surfing on her laptop.
Her phone chimed and she glanced at it. Katie could feel a lump forming in her throat. Luke. She considered not looking at the message, but that lasted maybe four seconds before she was swiping right.
How is it being back?
Her thumb hovered for a second before she responded.
Good. How are you?
Pretty good. You free?
Katie considered her response for a solid thirty seconds.
Sure.
She promised herself it would just to say hi, but she felt a familiar ache when she thought about Luke. There was warmth there, familiarity. Lately, those things had been severely lacking from her life, especially with her recent revelations about Tiffany. She would just go over briefly. That was it.
11:43PM
Katie rolled over and sat up, her breathing slowing down quickly. She was covered in warm slick sweat, as was Luke. He laid back with an arm underneath his head, while Katie let her feet dangle off the side of his bed. A strand of her red hair damp with moisture clung to her eyebrow and dropped over her eye, and she blew it away in an annoyed puff.