Page 57 of Pretty Threats

Before I even have time to process what he’s saying, he charges on as though he’s been dying to rant to someone, and this is his first chance. “My fraternity had one of the most powerful alumni networks in the country. Being a Lambda Delta stood for greatness in law, finance, and technology. Then, violence and sexual deviance derailed the entire chapter, and it’s rippled outward exponentially because of the media. Now those of us who never engaged in any of it are having to clean things up.” Leighton clenches his jaw.

My head is still reeling from one of the first things he said. Killian with prostitutes? And what does Leighton mean by “indulging his deviance?” The chains on War’s wall come to mind. Has Killian gotten deep into something because of War and Jamie?

“Your background is as clean as your name, Raine, and you’re a pretty girl with a lot of talent. Choose a guy from a good family who will be an asset to you.”

The conference room door opens, and Owen Malenus smiles when he sees me. “You are here. Come in, Raine.”

Without a word, Leighton turns and strides to the elevator.

“The fraternity watchdog,” Owen says with a roll of his eyes as he ushers me into the room.

There’s a long table with ten chairs around it. Owen’s notebook, electronic tablet, and coffee cup are in front of the end chair. There’s a full glass of ice water at the place next to his.

“Is that where you want me?”

“Yes. Would you like coffee?

“No, I’m fully caffeinated.” My forced smile is bright as I try to switch my focus from Leighton’s tirade to this meeting.

When I open the notes app on my phone, though, Owen asks me to power my phone completely off. It takes me a minute to figure out how to force it to power down. As I do, he slides some papers toward me.

“Because I can always count on the press to steal my thunder, the world will find out soon enough that I’m shooting a film on the Granthorpe campus. But until the media starts squawking, I want to keep things under wraps.”

After reading through the non-disclosure agreements, I sign.

“I have a misdirect plan for the press. And for campus administration, who are already trying to insert themselves into the creative process, after claiming they wouldn’t.” He shakes his head and then scratches his stubble. He seems to be growing a beard. “Here’s the thing about Granthorpe. Fantastic pedigree. Fantastic educators. But also prone to episodes of such darkness and deviance it would make 8 Mile look like Disney World.”

Deviance… there’s that word again. What is going on?

“8 Mile,” I murmur, recalling the film about a white rapper. Semi-autobiographical, maybe? It came out a few years before I was born and isn’t one I’ve watched for research.

I must look like I’m trying to puzzle things out because he grins.

“Yes, the area around 8 Mile Road in Detroit is infamously rough. Like Compton in LA.” He nods and continues to smile. “You’re going to bring such a fresh prospective to this project. I’ve had my own experiences here, and I’ve done some preliminary interviews with older alumni, but I want someone who’s new to GU, too. That’s valuable.”

“Happy to help.”

“Good. Your first assignment is to go to a party at Beta House tonight. They’ve been in support of reinstating Lambda Delta Kappa to full status. Probably because when Beta had scandals that came under review of the Greek council, Lambda supported them. One thing you can say about the Lambda guys, they’re not hypocrites.” He takes a swig of coffee.

“I’ll go to the party and keep my eyes open. I’ll ask some girls from my dorm?—”

“No, this is an invitation-only party. I’ve secured you an invite. Who they really want is the blond rower. That’s all they called him. I guess there’s only one?”

Jamie?

“Anyway, my assistant implied he’d be bringing you. It won’t matter once you’re there. Just be vague if anyone asks about him.”

“I might know who they’re talking about.”

“Oh, yes? Can you take him along?”

“Oh, no.” Killian’s reaction to that would not be good.

“Well…” He shrugs as if he can’t fathom why I would mention having knowledge of the guy if we couldn’t use him as my party cover. He has a point.

Owen scratches his face. “So, use whatever cover story you want. As I said we’ve got the invitations. Individual QR codes were issued. You’ll find yours in your inbox along with details about the party.”

“Sounds good. Is there anyone you’d like me to talk to when I’m there?”

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