Page 18 of Rastor

Bishop ignored her and turned toward me. "Check this out. I learned what they told the cops."

"Who?" Brittney asked. "Joey and Paul?"

Bishop gave her a cold look. "I wasn't talking to you."

Her mouth tightened. "You know, I thought Lawton was rude, but you're like rude times a million."

"Good to know." Bishop turned back to me and said, "The way I heard it, their story wasn't half-bad. You saw how it played out, right?"

I shook my head. I hadn't seen. When those guys had been freed from the trunk, I'd been on the other side of the building, searching for Chloe.

"Get this." Bishop grinned. "So, some tow-truck driver shows up to pop the trunk, with like a hundred people watching, and those guys jump out, wearing what?"

As the person who'd put them in the trunk, I knew the answer firsthand. "Their underwear."

"And?" Bishop said.

I shrugged. "Their jewelry."

Brittney leaned forward. "Yeah, Joey and Paul, they're like total bling-masters." She nodded like this was a good thing. "They have awesome taste."

I gave her a look, but said nothing. Yeah, they had taste alright, like disco kings from the '70s.

Bishop was still grinning. "I'm not talking about the jewelry. I'm talking about the masks."

I shook my head. "What masks?"

"The ski-masks."

I frowned. They'd been wearing those masks when they'd jumped Chloe. Even without them, she would've been terrified. But those stupid masks of theirs, thick, knitted things with only slits for eyes, made the two guys wearing them look more like executioners than idiots on a fake-kidnapping mission.

At the time, what did Chloe think? Did she think she was going to die? My fingers gripped the side of my chair. Those assholes. I knew where their masks belonged, and it sure as hell wasn't on their heads.

"You listening?" Bishop asked.

I looked up. "What?"

"Isaidthey were wearing the damn things when they popped out of the trunk. You should've seen 'em." He shook his head. "Underwear, bling, and ski masks. They looked like idiots."

Theywereidiots, because they'd messed with the wrong girl. I heard myself say, "I didn't realize they still had them."

"The masks?" Bishop said. "Eh, we must've left them in the trunk. Anyway, the way it looks, they put on the masks, hoping to hide their faces."

Brittney spoke up. "But you got them back, right?"

Bishop and I turned to look. It was Bishop who asked, "Got what back?"

"The masks," she said.

I stared at her. "What?"

"They were mine," she said. "I need them back."

Suddenly, I heard a snap. I looked down to see a crack in the right-arm of my chair. My knuckles were white, and the wood was splintered on both sides.

Brittney was still talking. "I paid good money for those things. I mean, they weren't like generic ski-masks. They were designer."

Was she fucking kidding me?