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“Were you in a fraternity?” I wonder aloud, watching him in all his cocky, Captain America football-hero glory as he makes lewd gestures at a piece of electronic surveillance equipment. “In?” he scoffs. “No. I was a founding father of the Kappa Alpha Delta fraternity, the coolest frat on campus.” “It’s all starting to make sense now.” I shake my head as the gate swings open. We pull into a large lot similar to the one at Ryan’s home and park near a building similar to his, too, only much bigger. It looks like a converted industrial warehouse. All the windows are blacked out and there’s only one entrance, a huge hammered steel door that’s at least ten feet tall and about as wide. A fleet of hulking black Hummers lurks on one side of the lot, windscreens and chrome rims gleaming. They loo
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