Favors and Lies by Mark Gilleo Page B

that’s the nine o’clock class students leaving the building.”
    â€œThere is nothing in between.”
    â€œIt appears to be missing.”

    â€”

    The large Greek letters in the yards of the brick houses for a block near Nebraska Avenue provided every indication that Dan had arrived at Greek Row. Alpha Chi Omega was the third house on the right and the only one on the block that looked habitable. The fraternity next door had a sofa in the yard and another on the porch. The fresh coat of paint the fraternity applied every summer to spruce up the place was already under siege. Ten guys under a single roof aged a house like beer-drinking termites.
    Dan approached the front porch of the Alpha Chi Omega sorority house and suddenly he felt his age. Memories of college life flooded back to him. Nights huddled around a keg in some yard, drinking out of red Solo cups, keeping one eye out for the police and the other out for a girl better looking than the one you were currently chatting up.
    Dan knocked on the door and gazed at the Greek letters emblazoned on the ceiling of the porch. Under the letters the sorority’s slogan—Real Strong Women—was painted in bold strokes. Or as bold as strokes can be when stenciled in light pink.
    A young lady in pajamas and flip flops opened the door. At least these students aren’t killing their parents with expensive clothing bills , Dan thought.
    â€œHi,” Dan said to the black-haired, blue-eyed girl. He guessed she was of Hungarian descent, but kept his opinion to himself.
    â€œHi,” the girl replied.
    â€œMy name is Dan Lord and I’m looking for a girl named Lindsay.”
    â€œWe have two Lindsays, which one are you looking for?”
    â€œI have no idea.”
    â€œWhat class do you teach? One Lindsay is a Psyche major, the other is International Affairs.”
    Dan brushed off his ego. If he needed further evidence he was no longer college-aged, the black-haired, blue-eyed junior had just provided it.
    â€œI’m not a professor. Or a student,” he quickly added. “My nephew passed away this weekend and I think he was seeing, or at least knew, Lindsay. Or one of the Lindsays.”
    â€œYou’re talking about Conner, right?”
    â€œYeah.”
    â€œThat would be Lindsay Richer.”
    â€œShe around?”
    â€œYeah, I think I heard her fire up the shower a little while ago. Come on in. She’s been a mess since she got the news.”
    Dan followed the dark-haired girl into the living room. The room décor was a head-on collision of Ikea and Martha Stewart. “Have a seat, I’ll get Lindsay.”
    Dan nodded and sat down on the edge of the sofa cushion.
    â€œMan in the living room,” the black-haired girl yelled loud enough to be heard next door. She looked at Dan. “House rules on weekdays. Now if someone comes dancing through the living room naked, you’ll be innocent.”
    â€œGood rule,” Dan replied as the girl bounded up the stairs. He turned his admiration to the array of magazines on the table, none of them fit for male consumption. Each cover offered its own sex secrets comingled with the recurring themes of how to catch your man cheating and tips to lose weight.
    He heard footsteps above and a moment later a blond with wet hair wearing a white bathrobe came down the stairs.
    Dan stood.
    â€œHi. I’m Lindsay.”
    â€œLindsay Richer,” Dan replied, showing that he’d been paying attention. “My name is Dan Lord. I’m Conner’s uncle.”
    â€œHe mentioned you,” she said, tears welling up in her eyes. “I can’t believe it.” She looked like she had been crying, no small feat for someone who had just exited the shower.
    â€œYou want to grab a seat? Talk for a minute?”
    Lindsay sat on the far end of the sofa and Dan returned to his seat a cushion away. Lindsay’s hair was wet and she had yet to apply