Avery had a name: Cindy Jenkins. She knew the sorority: Kappa Kappa Gamma. And she was fully aware of Harvard University. The ivy league school had rejected her as an incoming freshman, but she'd still found a way to soak in Harvard life throughout her own college career, as she'd dated two boys from the school.
Unlike other colleges, the sororities and fraternities of Harvard weren't officially acknowledged. No Greek houses existed on or off campus. Partying, however, happened regularly at multiple off-campus houses or apartment complexes under the name of "organizations" or specialized "clubs." Avery had witnessed firsthand the paradox of college life during her own college tenure. Everyone pretended to be solely focused on grades until the sun went down and they transformed into a bunch of wild, partying animals.
At a red light, Avery performed a quick Internet search to discover that Kappa Kappa Gamma rented two areas on the same block in Cambridge: Church Street. One of the locations was for events, the other for meetings and socializing.
She drove over Longfellow Bridge, past MIT, and hung a right onto Massachusetts Avenue. Harvard Yard appeared on her right with its magnificent red brick buildings set among a forest of trees and paved pathways.
A parking spot opened on Church Street.
Avery parked, locked the car door, and lifted her face to the sun. It was a warm day, with temperatures in the high seventies. She checked the time: ten thirty.
The Kappa building was a long, two-story structure with a brick facade. The first floor housed a number of clothing shops. The second floor, Avery guessed, was reserved for office space and sorority operations. The only designation next to the second-floor buzzer was the blue fleur-de-lis symbol of Harvard; she pressed it.
A scratchy female voice came on the intercom system.
"Yeah?"
"Police," she growled, "open up."
Silence for a moment.
"Seriously," the voice replied, "who is this?"
"It's the police," she said in earnest. "Everything is fine. No one is in trouble. I just need to speak with someone in Kappa Kappa Gamma."
The door buzzed open.
At the top of the steps, Avery was greeted by a sleepy, haggard girl in an oversized gray sweatshirt and white sweatpants. Dark-haired, she appeared hard-partying. Wisps of hair hid most of her face. There were dark circles under her eyes, and the body that she normally took so much pride in accentuating appeared thick and formless.
"What do you want?" she asked.
"Calm down," Avery offered. "This has nothing to do with sorority activities. I'm just here to ask a few questions."
"Can I see some identification?"
Avery flashed her badge.
She sized up Avery, inspected the badge, and stood back.
The space for Kappa Kappa Gamma was large and bright. The ceiling was high. A number of comfortable tan couches and blue bean bags littered the area. Walls had been painted dark blue. There was a bar, a sound system, and a huge, flat-screen TV. The windows were nearly floor to ceiling. Across the street, Avery could see the top of another short apartment complex, and then the sky. A few clouds rolled by.
She guessed her college experience was a lot different from that of most of the girls in Kappa Kappa Gamma. For one, she had paid for school herself. Every day after classes she went to a local law firm and worked her way up from a secretary to an honored paralegal. She also rarely drank in school. Her father had been a raging alcoholic. Most college nights, she was either the designated driver or in the dorm studying.
A burst of hope flashed on the girl's face.
"Is this about Cindy?" she asked.
"Is Cindy a friend of yours?"
"Yeah, my best friend," she said. "Please, tell me she's all right?"
"What's your name?"
"Rachel Strauss."
"Are you the one that called the police?"
"That's right. Cindy left our party pretty drunk on Saturday night. No one has seen her since. That's not like her." She rolled her eyes and offered a slight smile when she added, "She's usually very predictable. She's just like, Ms. Perfect, you know? Always to bed at the same time, same schedule that never changes-needs like, five years' notice for any changes. Saturday she was crazy. Drinking. Dancing. Threw the clock away for a while. It was nice to see."
A distant gaze took Rachel for a moment.
"She was just, really happy, you know?"
"Any particular reason?" Avery wondered.
"I don't know, top of her class. Has a job lined up for the fall."
"What job?"
"Devante? They're like, the best firm in Boston. She was an accounting major. So boring, I know, but she was a genius when it came to numbers."
"Can you tell me about Saturday night?"
Tears came to Rachel's eyes.
"This is about Cindy, isn't it?"
"Yeah," Avery said. "Maybe we can sit down?"
Rachel crashed on the couch and cried.
Through sobs, she tried to speak.
"Is she all right? Where is she?"
It was the part of the job Avery hated the most-talking to relatives and friends. There was only so much she was allowed to discuss. The more people learned about a case, the more they talked, and that talk had a way of getting back to the perpetrators of crimes. No one ever understood that or cared in the moment: they were too distressed. All they wanted were answers.
Avery sat beside her.
"We're really glad you called," she said. "You did the right thing. I'm afraid I can't talk about an ongoing investigation. What I can tell you is that I'm doing everything in my power to find out what happened to Cindy that night. I can't do it alone, I need your help."
Rachel nodded and wiped her eyes.
"I can help," she said, "I can help."
"I'd like to know everything you remember about that night, and Cindy. Who was she talking to? Was there anything that stood out in your mind? Comments she made? People that took an interest in her? Anything about when she left?"
Rachel broke down completely.
Eventually, she raised a hand and nodded and pulled herself together.
"Yeah," she said, "sure."
"Where is everyone else?" Avery asked as a distraction. "I thought sorority houses were supposed to be packed with hungover girls in Kappa gear."
"They're at class," Rachel said and wiped her eyes. "A couple of girls went out to get breakfast. By the way," she added, "we're not technically a sorority house. This is just a place we rent to crash when we don't want to go back to our dorm. Cindy never stayed here. Too modern for her. She has more of a 'homey' air."
"Where does she live?"
"Student housing not far from here," Rachel said. "But she wasn't headed home on Saturday night. She was supposed to meet up with her boyfriend."
Avery's senses heightened.
"Boyfriend?"
Rachel nodded.
"Winston Graves, big-time senior, rower, asshole. None of us ever understood why she dated him. Well, I guess I did. He's handsome and comes from tons of money. Cindy never had any money. I think, when you don't come from money, it's really appealing."
Yeah, Avery thought, I know. She remembered how the money and prestige and power of her previous law firm job had made her believe she was somehow different from that scared and determined young girl who had left Ohio.
"Where does Winston live?" she asked.
"In Winthrop Square. It's really close to here. But Cindy never made it. Winston came over early on Sunday morning looking for her. He assumed she'd just forgotten about their plans and passed out. So we went to her house together. She wasn't there, either. That's when I called the police."
"Would she have gone anywhere else?"
"No way," Rachel said. "That's not like Cindy at all."
"So when she left here, you're sure she was headed over to Winston's house."
"Absolutely."
"Was there anything that might have changed those plans? Anything that happened to her early in the evening, or even at the end?"
Rachel shook her head.
"No, well," she realized, "there was something. I'm sure it's nothing, but there's this boy that's had a crush on Cindy for years. His name is George Fine. He's handsome, tough-looking, a loner, but a little weird, if you know what I mean? Works out and jogs around campus a lot. I had a class with him once last year. One of our jokes was that he's been in a class with Cindy nearly every semester since freshman year. He's been obsessed with her. He was here Saturday, and the crazy thing is, Cindy was dancing with him, and they even kissed. Totally not like Cindy. I mean, she's dating Winston-not that they have the perfect relationship-but she was really drunk, and raging. They kissed, danced, and then she left."
"Did George follow her out?"
"I don't know," she said. "Honestly. I don't remember seeing him after Cindy left, but that might be because I was totally wasted."
"Do you remember what time she left?"
"Yeah," she said, "at exactly two forty-five. Saturday was our annual April Fool's Night party, and we're supposed to play this great joke, but everyone was having so much fun we forgot about it until Cindy left."
Rachel lowered her head. Emptiness filled the air for a while.
"Well look," Avery said, "this has been really helpful. Thank you. Here's my card. If you can remember anything else, or if your sorority sisters have something to add, I'd love to hear about it. This is an open investigation, so even the smallest detail might give us a lead."
Rachel faced her then with tears in her eyes. And as the tears began to roll down her cheeks, her voice remained calm and steady.
"She's dead," she said, "isn't she?"
"Rachel, I can't."
Rachel nodded, and then she cupped her face in her hands and completely broke down. Avery leaned over and hugged her tight.
