"So you remember the pink smudge on Amanda's hand?" Ethan asked them.
"No, Ethan, we forgot," Megan responded sarcastically, urging him to get to the point.
"Okay. So I started to research the symbols fraternities use to promote themselves to pledges. But then I realized, pink isn't really considered such a frat-tastic, manly color…you know…traditionally."
Kate rolled her eyes. Megan shook her head.
"Anyway, I was right," he boasted. "There aren't any frats that use pink symbols, but there are plenty of sororities that do." He quickly brought up some Google images on the monitor. One in particular—a tall, skinny feline figure with a long tail that curled up— immediately stood out to Megan.
"This," she said, touching the screen.
"Exactly. And I used this computer module to match it with the mark on Amanda's hand, and..." he pulled up the simulation, which morphed the smudge back into its original shape, showing what it had looked like prior to getting smeared across her skin.
"And this proves what?" Kate asked.
"I called Detective Morris and had him pull up the social-networking page for Kappa Gamma Kappa," Ethan tried to explain as quickly as possible. "Turns out they had a party for their new pledges last Thursday night."
Bud walked in and handed Megan a print out of the event page. "Wanna take a guess what their symbol is?"
Everything was becoming clear. Megan looked at Kate, who seemed to be forming the same conclusions. The thought that girls could do this to another girl was not so far-fetched. They both knew all too well how cruel young women could be to each other, especially when they realized that society mainly valued them for their attractiveness and ability to get in good with the boys, leading to competition among those who were supposed to be their sisters. Megan's mother tried to get her to pledge, but she'd dropped out after the first few days. Unfortunately, Amanda hadn't been as lucky.
Within an hour, the entire executive board of Kappa Gamma Kappa and some of the pledges who had been in contact with Amanda Thompson via social networking were rounded up and brought into the interrogation room. Bud led the questioning while Kate and Megan stood behind the window and watched. The girls—decked out to the nines in matching green dresses with pink ribbons in their hair and pearls around their necks—remained silent and stared straight ahead at the mirror.
"Look, we know she was at your party," Bud began.
Silence.
"And I know you're not supposed to have alcohol at these things, but every one of you does it anyway," he continued.
"Right," the leader of the pack, Bridget, interrupted. "All of us do. So why are you questioning us?"
"Because Amanda Thompson was pledging your sorority, and according to her online accounts and her family, she didn't have many other friends. The only place she could have been drinking that night was at your party. So whose gonna tell me what happened?"
Silence.
Megan sighed loudly behind the glass.
"He's not getting anywhere," she groaned.
Kate smirked. "You going in?"
Megan looked back at her, surprised. "Are you encouraging me?"
Kate shrugged. "I figure if anyone's got it in them to intimidate the hell out of some college girls right now, it's you."
Megan would have laughed a lot harder if the situation weren't so grim.
Moments later, she entered the room. Bud looked only slightly ticked off by intrusion. He seemed to know he was in over his head. She crossed in front of the table, eyeing the girls with a look of sincere disappointment.
"Would you excuse us, Detective Morris."
"Who is she?" Bridget asked.
Bud shook his head. "You're about to find out. Good luck."
When the door closed behind him, Megan sat at the table across from the young women.
"So," she began calmly, which had the girls even more freaked out than if she had been yelling. "Want to tell me whose idea it was to dump Amanda in the middle of fraternity row?"
They continued to say nothing, but Megan could tell by some of their flinching that she was getting somewhere.
"I know all of you must have helped. That's the spirit of sisterhood, right? You stick together?" She eyed Celia, the youngest one on the end. The girl shrank a little in her chair.
"Plus," Megan went on, "There's no way one of you could carry a body that distance by yourself, at least not noticeably. But one of you had to have the brilliant idea to leave her there in the first place." She trailed her eyes back to Bridget.
"Why are you looking at me?"
"Well clearly you're the ringleader," Megan deadpanned. "The queen bee. You enlist your drones—sorry, sisters—to look and talk and eventually act just like you. They'll do whatever you tell them."
Many of the other girls looked uncomfortable, even resentful of Megan's accusation, but no one chimed in to deny it.
"It was a clever plan, whoever came up with it. Surely everyone would suspect the boys, and with good reason. Many of them are far from innocent. But you girls…" She had to pause to maintain control. "You're supposed to be each other's allies, your protectors. Were you even planning on letting Amanda into your chapter, or were you just toying with her?"
"She wanted to rush," Bridget finally responded. "Nobody made her do it."
"No, but you really didn't want her, did you? What was it about her that kept her from making the cut? Her original sense of style? Her curly hair?"
Celia was starting to crack.
"Are you a freshmen?" she asked her.
"Sophomore," the girl replied timidly. "My…my parents wouldn't let me rush last year."
"So you waited a whole year just to be part of a group that doesn't really want you either, do they?"
"That's not true," she began to cry.
"It's okay, not everyone can conform as easily as the rest. That will end up being one of your strengths," she smiled. "I like your nail polish. Pretty shade of blue."
The girl's eyes lit up a little.
"Amanda was wearing the same color," Megan noted. This hit Celia hard. Her tears began to fall.
"We…we painted them together before going to the party. We said if it got too intense we'd leave together."
"Celia!" Bridget scolded. Megan shot her a look that was so fierce the girl knew she was lucky it wasn't a slap.
"It's okay," Megan assured Celia. "Tell me what happened to your friend."
"We…we were all sitting in the house, playing this game."
"Celia, you are so…" Bridget yelled.
"Don't open your mouth again!" Megan snarled through gritted teeth. She turned back to Celia, urging her to continue.
"The girls who said 'no' to the questions got hit with the paddle. The ones who said 'yes' had to chug. Amanda couldn't take the paddle anymore. She started digging her nails into the wall it hurt so bad. She said she'd rather just chug"
"What kinds of questions?" Megan asked.
Celia turned even brighter red, blushing through her tears. "About…sex."
"I see," Megan breathed deeply. She was fighting hard not to break down. "So Amanda didn't want to answer 'yes' because she hadn't done anything yet?"
Celia nodded. Megan turned back to Bridget. "Why were you hitting them for this?"
Bridget was stone-faced. The girl next to her, Erica, finally spoke up.
"The KGs have a reputation to keep."
"What kind of reputation?" Megan continued to dig. "With who?"
"The frats," Erica admitted.
Megan nodded. Of course. The sororities with the girls who were most likely to put out—or at least purported to—were the most likely to get invited to Crush, and every other big event on campus that determined status.
"And the chugging?" Megan continued.
"Everyone needs to learn how to chug. You have to be able to keep up with the guys."
Megan nodded again. She numbed herself as best she could to the painful realities being laid out before her. She reached into her bag and pulled out an envelope, and from the envelope a photo of Amanda lying on the autopsy table with the sheet covering everything but her face. She showed it to the girls, all of whom gasped, some shrinking away, and some, especially Celia, completely losing it.
"See this? Doesn't matter how much experience you have, or even how tall you are or how much you weigh. Women's bodies cannot process alcohol at the same rate as men's. This," she shoved the image closer towards them, making sure they got a good look at it. "This is where trying to act like the boys will get you."
She looked at Celia. "And you're better than this."
They had enough now to arrest Bridget and the others on the e-board, along with Celia, who hadn't left her friend's side when she passed out, but had helped abandon her once she realized what their attempts to fit in had accomplished.