Wham, Bam, Thank You, Ma'am
Disclaimer: I don't own Law and Order: Special Victims Unit.
A/N: First fan fic in this category, in a more serious style than normal for me. Hope you like it.
Chapter One
"911 emergency." The operator said.
There was the sound of cookies being tossed and then: "My friend's body... just showed up on my door step." A woman's voice replied.
--
"There were these frat guys. They had paid for a private party. Aimee, Janet, Bentley and I were assigned the party. It started out fine. They paid way too much for really simple stuff. But then they all got really plastered, slurred words, bottle after bottle. One guy tried to jump on the stage and dance with Janet. Bentley was giving one of them a lap dance and she was nearly raped. But the guy who did it, he was the most sober of them all. He had had like two drinks, if even. Then it hit closing time and we left, they left, I think they left, but they were gone from the club when we were leaving. Janet left first, cause her car was the closest. We saw her drive off. Then Bentley left. Aimee and I saw her pull out. Then there's this blinding light coming at us. I tell Aimee to jump out of the way, but she doesn't move! Then they pull up next to her and yank her into the car. The last thing she said was 'Bronte!' What was I suppose to do? I should've grabbed her; we should've run. But I didn't think they would snatch her like that!" Bronte Currier, a slim, brunette in her mid-twenties finished telling her story to Detectives Olivia Benson and Elliot Stabler about what had happened the night before. Tears were smearing her makeup, leaving black trails of mascara down her face. "I should've helped her. But I just stayed there, not moving. And they… they violated and killed her! The bastards!"
Benson and Stabler looked at each other. "Bronte, thank you for telling us about last night. We're truly sorry about your loss." Benson said.
"Yeah, well, I guess that's what you get for practically being a slut." Bronte muttered. "Somebody comes along and rapes you."
"Do you think it was one of the fraternity members?" Stabler asked.
"The car swerved a lot. They were the last to leave. The guy in the passenger seat looked familiar, like I had seen him somewhere. But, then again, a lot of college kids look alike nowadays." Bronte replied.
--
"Do you think it was one of those boys?" Benson asked Elliot.
"It could be." He replied. They were on their way to the club to talk to the manager, to see if they could find out which frat house had booked the party. "But it's a place to start."