Page 46 of Lawton

At the mention of Amber, I stood. I pulled out my cell phone and tried her again. Still no answer.

On the floor, Brittney was still rambling. "She's got parents. And money. Tons of it." Brittney's voice grew sullen. "She has real purses, too. I don't have real purses. Mine are just semi-real."

"You want a purse?" I said. "Fine. Tell me who to call. I'll buy you a dozen."

But Brittney wasn't listening. "You liked that other girl," she was saying. "The girl with the dog. I bet she has real purses, too. She was a total rich bitch. I could tell."

I froze.

At something in my face, Brittney clamped her lips shut. She turned her head, looking toward the nearby wall. Her voice grew quiet. "I'm not really in a sorority, you know."

Like I cared.

Brittney gave another sigh. "I'm not in college either. I guess I'm not college material."

None of this made sense. As far as I knew, she and Amber were sorority sisters. Or had I just assumed that? Did it matter?

No, I decided. It didn't. What mattered now was getting her home, or wherever. I spoke very slowly, trying to cut through the haze. "Tell me who to call."

From somewhere behind me, I heard Bishop say, "Why call anyone? Just toss her out on her ass."

Chapter 22

On the bathroom floor, Brittney scooted downward, as if trying to push herself up. Her ass moved. The dress didn't. A second later, I saw naked beaver. Again.

She gave up and turned her face toward the doorway. "Hey!" she slurred, louder now. "No one tosses Brittney Adams, anywhere."

Adams. I had a last name. Now what? I turned toward Bishop, who stood, leaning against the door jamb. "You're back," I said.

"Yup." He looked down at the drunken blonde and gave a slow nod. "She looks like a Brittney."

By now, it was pretty obvious that if I wanted her to go anywhere, I'd have to take her there myself. "I need to get her home," I said.

"Where's home?" Bishop asked.

"Hell if I know."

"BetIdo."

Bishop had this uncanny way of finding out things. But evenhehad his limits. "Yeah, right," I said.

On the floor, Brittney tried – and failed – to push herself up. "I can't go home," she slurred. "My roommate's a slut."

Bishop was nodding. "Slutty roommate, huh?" He flicked his head toward Brittney. "You wantmeto take her?"

I gave Bishop a look. Banging a girl's slutty roommate wasn't exactly his style. "You want to?" I asked.

"No. But I will." He held up something that I hadn't noticed. A small, black purse.

I eyed the thing. "Where'd you get that?"

"On your front lawn." He opened the purse and dug through it. He pulled out a driver's license. He read the address out loud.

From the bathroom floor, Brittney stirred. "Heeeey. That place you just said?Ilive there, too. That issoweird."

Bishop turned to me. "There you go. Wanna throw her in the car?"

Groaning, Brittney struggled upward. This time, she managed something like a sitting position, with her legs splayed and her dress hiked up high above her hips.