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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?"
    "I said they 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."
    They were idiots, 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?
    Bishop cleared his throat. "Anyway, what they end up telling the cops is the whole thing was part of some prank gone wrong."
    Prank. There was that word again. I said it out loud. "A prank?"
    It was the same word that Brittney had used to describe what they'd done to Chloe. If I never heard that word again, it would be too damn soon.
    "Yeah," Bishop said. "They tell the cops it's part of some fraternity thing, claim they were supposed to end up at this sorority bash, but got dropped at the wrong place."
    "So what?" I said. "That doesn't explain the masks."
    "Which," Brittney said, "I still need back, by the way."
    Together, Bishop and I turned to look. Under our silent gazes, she shifted in her seat. "Well, I do. I mean, I didn't give them to Joey and Paul. It was just a loan. They were supposed to give them back when they were done."
    I heard another snap. I looked down to see a matching crack on the other chair arm.
    Bishop glanced at the chair. "You wanna hear the rest later?" The corners of his mouth lifted. "Like when you're sitting on a couch or something."
    "Oh, fuck off," I muttered.
    With a longer look at the chair, he continued, "So they tell the cops they're wearing the masks because they were supposed to do some panty-raid, burglar skit at this sorority house – Amber's actually. But because of some mix-up, they end up at the restaurant instead."
    "And you learned all of this how?" I asked.
    He shrugged. "I've got a friend on the force."
    "And he believed that bullshit story?"
    "The guy's not stupid," Bishop said. "He knows a load of bull when he hears it, but who's complaining? The only 'victims' were the guys in the trunk." Bishop hesitated. "Well, them and the poor saps who had to look at them."
    I recalled the one guy's underwear, tiny black briefs a few sizes too small. No doubt, the crowd had gotten a good eye-full.
    "Besides," Bishop added, "someone backed up their story, so there you have it."
    "Who?" I asked.
    "Amber," he said. "I got ahold of her, walked her through it."
    I sat back in the chair. During the last two hours, he'd gotten a lot done. As for me, I'd been sitting here, listening to Brittney whine about crap that didn't matter.
    And now, she was frowning again. She turned to Bishop. "Wait a minute," she said. "How'd you get ahold of Amber? I've been calling her all night. It's like she's avoiding me or something."
    "Yeah?" Bishop said. "Maybe it's a hint, and you should take it."  
    Brittney scowled. "What's that supposed to mean?"
    Bishop stood. "You wanna know? Ask her." He glanced toward the stairway.