Save Me, Sinners

“Is that right?” Her gaze drifts off to the left, a sign that she's distracted.

“Yes, I told you Richard was the best. I'm really glad it has worked out for you.”

She smiles thinly. She's figured it out. She leans back in her chair and crosses her arms across her middle, indicating that she accepts the new timbre of our relationship.

“Well, thank you for recommending him. And thank you for coming out to inspect his work. I definitely feel better knowing that all my espionage experts agree on the state of our… espionage.”

I nod, returning her smirk, knowing that our business is done. But since it's only been thirty seconds, I suppose we’re supposed to enter some kind of small talk exchange.

There is definitely something I need her advice on, anyway. It’s the main reason I had to come.

“Candace, what do you remember about Chi Rho Pi?”

Her perfectly lacquered mouth opens and then closes. She waits a couple of seconds before she speaks.

“The sorority? Why would you ask me about that?”

I see the tendons in her ankle flex, a sign that she's distressed.

Now I am even more intrigued.

“Well, I seem to recall that you are a member of that sorority, is that true?”

I know it's true, but I need a better sample of her reaction. From the sum of her micro-expressions and body language, I can tell that she has quite a bit to say about the sorority.

“Yes, that's true,” she says quietly.

“The reason I'm asking,” I begin, not wishing to torture her any longer, “is that I've had some dealings with them in the past. They have recently escalated some… bullying behaviors, I guess you could call it. Some inappropriate hazing. But that can't be systemic, can it? I think that the problem is this one young woman in particular —”

“— what is her name?”

Candace leans forward suddenly, her nostrils flared, a blush in her cheeks. This is important information for her.

“Elizabeth Whitmore,” I answer without delay.

She glances at the ceiling, a sign that she's frustrated now.

“Well, it's good to have a name. Thank you for that.”

“You were looking for a name?”

She nods tensely.

After a moment, she seems to consider what she needs to say to me and then comes to some kind of decision.

“There's been some… talk. And yes, this is rather new behavior. This is not something that I experienced directly. But I had heard there was a, shall we say… gallery.”

I shake my head, not understanding.

“A gallery of what?”

She frowns almost imperceptibly. “A gallery of pictures. Shall we say, candid pictures. I haven't seen them myself, mind you. But from my understanding there is some financial motivation. Some, perhaps, impropriety…”

I lean forward in my chair. “Wait, are you telling me there are pictures? For sale?”

She says nothing, but nods.

“By candid, do you mean…”