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from Mariah Stewart?
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Dark Truth

coming in November 2005
from Ballantine Books.

Prologue

February 1989
College of St. Ansel
Stone River, Maryland

Mounds of dirty snow rose from either side of the sidewalk, piled high by the campus maintenance crews after the unexpected storm hit during the students’ return for the second semester. A slick glaze of ice made each step an adventure, but Nina Madden barely noticed. If not for the fact that she’d already slipped several times since she left the student union, she’d have been dancing. As it was, she was dancing on air.

Twenty minutes ago, she’d opened her campus mail box to find the bid letter from the president of Theta Kappa Alpha, the first and only sorority she’d preferenced as the rush season came to a close. In forty minutes, she would walk into the Theta Kappa house and accept their offer of sisterhood. Nina shivered at the thought of it. She had just enough time to stop at her father’s office in the liberal arts building and give him the good news.

Her father, American lit professor Stephen Madden, would likely not be as pleased as Nina was, but that was to be expected. He’d not been keen on her decision to participate in rush, afraid it would take too much time from her studies and result in a lower GPA. Well, she’d just have to prove to him that one could be both brainy and popular. There was no question of her academic ability, and God knew, the Thetas were the most popular sorority at St. Ansel’s. Nina couldn’t believe they thought she was one of them.

And then there was the matter of the Theta house. Definitely the best house on campus. Every sister was required to live in that house during her sophomore and junior years, and that suited Nina just fine. It was more than just fine. It was a lifeline. With a stepmother who made Cinderella’s look like a candidate for Mother of the Year, Nina couldn’t wait for the fall semester, when she could move into the house and be out from under Olivia’s scrutiny. It seemed no matter what she did—or didn’t do—she could not please her father’s wife of three years. A little breathing room would be good for everyone, Nina thought. Although Olivia did have her moments, Nina conceded. Hadn’t she defended Nina’s decision to rush?

Probably because she wants me out of the house and out of her hair. But still, she’d proven to be an ally when Nina had least expected it.

Nina rounded the corner of Celestine Hall, deep in her thoughts, for a moment oblivious to the crowd that was gathering quietly. As she crossed onto the walk that led to Celestine’s front steps, she noticed the police cars that lined the narrow drive. The only time she’d ever seen this many town black-and-whites on campus was right before winter break, when one of the fraternities had had a party where one too many kegs had been tapped, one too many beers served to underage students. The dean had immediately revoked the frat’s charter for three years, and over the holidays, the boys who had been living in the house had to scramble to find living quarters for the second semester. That was about as wild as things got at St. Ansel’s. What was it this time?

Curious but intent on seeing her father and making it to the Theta house on time, she ran up the front steps of the redbrick building. Several of her father’s colleagues stood at the top of the stairs, their arms folded across their chests, their voices low, their expressions somber. Was it her imagination, or was everyone avoiding meeting her eyes?

In her hurried passing, Nina greeted those faculty members she knew but received muted responses in reply. The head of the English department stood at the front door as if guarding it.

“Hello, Father Whelan.” Nina reached past him to grab the door handle and attempted to step past him.

“I’m sorry, Nina.” Father Whelan blocked her way. “I’m afraid no one’s allowed into the building.”

“What’s happened?” She tried to look past him, into the lobby, but she couldn’t see beyond the police officers inside who were crowded around. “What’s going on in there?”

A really bad feeling began to spread through her. For a long minute, she felt as if she were holding her breath. Pushing Father Whelan aside, she ducked into the building, only to be caught inside the door by a young cop who grabbed her by both arms and held her against the wall.

“Let me go.” She struggled against him. “I need to see my father. Something’s wrong. . . .”

In the crowd gathered near the elevator, Nina recognized almost every member of the English department, except her father. Nina spotted her father’s secretary and called out to her.

“Mrs. Owens, what’s happened? Where’s my father?”

“Who is your father?” The police officer shook her gently. “What’s your father’s name?”

“Stephen Madden. Dr. Madden. His office is up there, on the second floor.” She tried to calm herself, tried to stop the feeling of panic that was rising within her.

Whatever was happening here, it wasn’t good, but maybe she could get this nice young cop to help her, to find her father.

“Please, if you would just let me go up to my father’s . . .”

The elevator doors opened, and the crowd fell silent.

Nina’s father stepped into the lobby, his head held high, his spine straight as a rod, his gaze straight ahead and unseeing. He was, as always, tall and handsome, and he wore the brown tweed jacket he’d bought in London the summer before when he’d taught a course on Hawthorne at an English university as part of an exchange program. His prematurely white hair was tucked behind his ears; his beard was neatly trimmed. He walked toward her, his bright blue eyes focused on a spot above the door, his arms held behind his back. A police officer accompanied him on either side, and as he passed Nina, she saw the cuffs that held his hands together.

“Dad?” she said incredulously as soon as she could find her voice. “Daddy?”

In the murmur of the crowd, she could make out the words the Stone River rapist.

Nina’s knees went weak, and her lungs felt as if all the air had been squeezed out of them. Her head began to spin, and through the blackness that engulfed her, she felt two strong arms catch her on her way down.

That sensation of spinning toward the floor, that loss of control, would be the last thing she’d remember of the day her father was arrested and charged with raping and murdering four of her fellow students over the past eighteen months.