SSS 2 - Take the knife

You grab the knife, which has no sheathe and is a terrible shape for… well, anything. But you have a bad feeling about this. You’re wearing jeans and a tee under a windbreaker. You tuck the knife into your belt, glance at Colby’s sleeping form, then leave the room.

In the foyer, you use the landline to call 911.

“I don’t know if it’s a prank or what, but I’m with the sorority that had all those killings not that long ago,” you report. “I just got a threatening phone call, and three of my girls haven’t come home tonight. I think they’re at this motel,” you say, giving the address. “If someone could check on them, that would be a big help.”

The dispatcher promises to give it a shot, but she’s upfront about the fact that in this weather, there’s no telling what will happen. The motel is also, of course, across the county line, so she’ll have to coordinate with that department.

It’s about what you expected. You put the phone down and stop to listen.

There’s a soft creak from upstairs. Maybe the only thing that will come of all this is a little impromptu romance from all the girls having to buddy up. You hope that’s the case.

You walk to the front door and open it. The storm almost knocks you on your rear end. Struggling against the wind, you push out onto the front porch, where you miserably zip your windbreaker and use your fob to unlock your Mazda 3 hatchback.

This is gonna be rough. You splash to the car and climb in, setting your GPS. You take a moment to look closely at the map because you know that signal will be unreliable out there. You have to know where you’re going in case Siri lets you down.

But you can’t go straight there. Not in this car. No chance.

You drive into town, barely able to see. What would usually be about a seven-minute drive takes almost twenty minutes, and even that involves some sliding as you make your way down the hill from CCL House into Gurlberg.

Fortunately, there are plenty of lights on in CGH House as you pull up in front. It’s a short dash to the door. You are generous with the doorbell.

The girl who answers is a stranger to you. She doesn’t appear to recognize you either.

“Is Sal home?” you ask.

The girl frowns. “Um. She might be in bed.”

“Please wake her up. I have to talk to her. I’m the president of CCL,” you add.

The girl stares at you. You probably look quite wet and bedraggled.

“OK,” she says, beckoning you inside. You enter the house but stay on the mat, dripping as she heads upstairs. It’s quiet on the first floor. You hear a refrigerator open and close.

Sal appears soon enough, with bedhead.

“Meri,” she says, looking startled. “Thanks,” she says to the other girl, giving her a little nod to tell her to go away. She walks up to you, coming in close. “What’s wrong?”

“I need your car.”

“What?”

“Your car. I have to go out. I need a big car.”

Sal folds her arms. “Where are you going?”

“A couple of my girls haven’t come home yet.”

“CCL girls staying out late?” Sal raises an eyebrow and gives you a look. “So what?”

“Baby, please.” You’re being earnest. You don’t do that very often. Sal is startled.

“OK. Jesus. For a second I thought you came through a hurricane for a booty call. I was flattered,” she says. At CGH House? Not likely. Not very discreet. That’s what motels are for.

“Next time,” you say tersely.

Sal has started to turn away, probably planning to go and get the fob for her Sequoia, but she looks back at you.

“What’s got you so spooked?” she asks.

“I’m just worried about my girls.”

She peers at you for a moment.

“How about I come with you,” Sal offers. The business relationship with CGH is in the open; it’s what made it so easy for you to take over for Athena when she graduated. Your affair with Sal is a secret.

Take Sal with you?

Or handle this alone?