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name is, or Meg something. They go to school at North Commons.”
    “Yeah, those are the girls I’m asking about.”
    “What about them?”
    “The blonde was slipped something.”
    “Here?”
    “Yeah.”
    “Holy crap.” He pauses, hands now braced against the bar’s edge.
    “Any idea who would have done it?”
    “You don’t think it was me , do you? I can get girls in bed without drugs. Believe me.”
    I hold my hand out. “Relax. I just meant did you see anything suspicious. Remember anyone hanging out with her?”
    “Um,”—He rubs his temples—“Friday… I think I remember two guys with her. The blue-eyed one bought her a drink. I didn’t see them put anything in it.” No, but I did . “I didn’t see where they went, either. Fridays are like a shit show.”
    “You don’t have to tell me.”
    “Weren’t you working that night? Did you see anything?”
    “I was the one that caught up with them before they could stuff her in a car.”
    “Assholes.” Rick leans against the marble bar. “What kind of lowlife drugs a girl to get her home?”
    “You got me.” I shrug.
    “Yeah, you don’t have a problem with the ladies, either.” He smirks at me, turning to pull some papers from beside the register and shuffles through them.
    “You don’t happen to remember how the kids paid, do you?”
    “Exactly what I’m looking for.” Rick shuffles through a few, glancing at a zillion names.
    “If you can lock down a time I’ll look through the credit card receipts.”
    “You got it. I’ll keep you posted,” I call over my shoulder, heading out of the bar.
    “See you Friday,” he responds.
    I collapse into the cruiser and pause a moment, reaching for my cell phone. The lock screen indicates no new messages—Not like I expected any. I don’t give out my number – for a reason.
    Should I call her? Is this information enough to bother her? I mean; I don’t have any answers yet. Maybe I ought to pull her in for more questioning.
    “No.” I answer my own thoughts. I just want to pull her in to see her again. No, I can’t get involved. I won’t.
    The cruiser zips out of the parking lot. Well, as fast as old Patty can go, anyway.

A thump causes me to lift my head. Books crash to the floor as I sit up. I fell asleep on the couch again. I must have stayed up all night studying. Again.
    I rub my eyes, contacts burning slightly. “Meggie?”
    A figure pauses as they walk around the center island toward the front door. Their back straightens—A tall, broad back. I blink a few more times and the figure turns around.
    “Uh… no.”
    “Tom?” Our next-dorm-neighbor (as Meggie calls him) is standing there in Batman boxers, clothes crumpled between his hands. He’s skinny, as I would have expected, but without his thick-rimmed glasses, he has a redeeming dork-quality to him.
    “Um… I …” He glances around as he searches for words.
    I have to hide a smile at his flustered appearance. He’s apparently not used to this. Trying to save him from an aneurism, I climb to my feet. A pen rolls to meet my books on the living room floor.
    “Meggie and I, we…” His feet shift from side to side.
    “Would you like some breakfast?” I’m used to the usual morning-after routine. Some just want to scamper out, but others will stay and make conversation. I wander around him to the cabinet, pulling out a box of Sugar Loops.
    “What?”
    “Breakfast?” I lift the red box up.
    “Um, yeah sure.”
    I twist, opening another cabinet, and pull out two bowls, grabbing spoons from a drawer. He sits on the barstool on the other side of the island, separating the living room from the kitchen.
    “Sugar Loops?”
    “Yeah, sounds good.”
    I pour milk into his cereal before my own and stand, eating across from him. “So.” I swirl my spoon around in my bowl. “You and Meggie, huh?”
    “It just kind of happened.” He rubs his temples.
    “Yeah, that sounds about right.” I spoon some cereal into my