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“Better than you,” she snapped, but it was apparent she was already losing steam. The girl sucked her drink through a little red straw and tried to act casual. “Why?”
“I’m investigating her death.”
“You a cop?” She looked me up and down, then sneered. “You don’t look like a cop.”
“And you don’t look very smart, but I’m not rushing to any conclusions there, am I?”
She choked on the next swallow of her drink and sputtered, “What?”
“I asked how well you knew Trish.”
“We party together.”
Oh yeah, real besties these two. I bet they had slumber parties and braided each other’s hair while gossiping about all the pre-law hotties. I wondered if she’d known Trish’s last name before I told it to her.
“Did you see her last night?”
“Sure, she was here for a bit.”
“With anyone?”
“That smoking hot TA from Intro to Medieval Lit.”
“Gabriel Holbrook?”
“Yeah, Mr. Holbrook.”
It felt bizarre to hear Gabriel referred to as Mr. Holbrook, as if he was someone in a position of authority. The only times I’d heard him referred to as Mr. Holbrook were when bill collectors called the apartment. Or at the police station earlier tonight.
/> “Did they leave together?”
“I guess.” She sipped her drink again, none of her former bluster in her words. “I mean, she left after he got thrown out.”
I was glad I didn’t have a mouthful of Guinness right then because I might have spit it out all over her. “Excuse me?”
“Yeah, he got into a fight with some guy, and they both got kicked out. I didn’t see Trish after that.”
“Do you know who he got into a fight with?”
“I just said, didn’t I? Some guy.” She rolled her eyes at me like I was the stupid one.
“How remarkably helpful.”
“Yeah, you’re welcome.” She was distracted now and waved to someone on the other side of the room. “Thanks for the drink,” she added, raising her glass and tapping it against my beer. “See you in Anthro.” Then she teetered off, shrieking, to go hug some mammoth guy in an NYU hoodie.
Okay, so she was clearly drunk off her ass. Did that mean everything she told me was pure fantasy? She’d confirmed Trish had been here with Gabriel, but maybe she was remembering a different night. And Gabriel hadn’t mentioned anything about a fight to the cops. Why would he leave out a detail that would be so easy to confirm?
The bartender returned, grumbling about idiot kids, and I slid the photos across the bar to him. He took a look at both, then slid the photo of Lucy back to me. “Never seen her before, looks like a sweet girl, probably too nice for a scene like this, you know? This one though…” He turned the photo of Trish towards me, like I’d never seen it before. “If we had a frequent-buyer card, she’d be first in line to get one. Trouble with a capital T.” Trish smiled out from the picture, oblivious to how her reputation was being sullied postmortem.
“Someone told me her boyfriend…” the word gave me pause, “…the guy she was with last night, got thrown out for getting into a fight. Is that true?”
“Two-dollar draft Tuesdays?” He snorted. “Lots of fights happen on Tuesdays, sweetheart.”
I kicked myself for not thinking to bring a picture of Gabriel with me. “Thanks for all your help.” I put a twenty on top of my empty shot glass and left.
Two bars and too many drinks later, I had an interesting mental picture of Trish Keller’s life and absolutely no news about Lucy Renard. The two were polar opposites—one a slutty party girl, the other a bookish introvert. Tomorrow night I was going to check out the campus and ask around in Gabriel’s Medieval Lit class, see if anyone remembered anything about Trish that might be helpful to clearing my ex of the murder charges. I also needed to get into Lucy’s room and snoop around for any indication of where she might have gone.
Guess the little home-schooled half-breed from Canada was going to university after all.
