Chapter XXXVIII

Paint The Town Red

"It isn't like you to go out on a Sunday, K. I mean, don't you have class tomorrow?"

Her roommate was far too nosy for her own good. Hadn't the woman ever heard that curiosity had killed the cat? Bobbi didn't know it, but she was very lucky. If she hadn't needed the red head's half of the rent she would have cheerfully killed the little drama queen a long time ago.

In Vegas, nothing—not even Sunday—was sacred. The Lord might have rested but the city that had cornered the market on sin did not. The endless partying didn't break or even pause for a breath, it just rolled on and on into infinity. That was, of course, if you knew where to be and when to be there. While all the clubs were open for business, there was only one place to be on Sunday. Vibe's Sunday nights were not to be missed. The social hot spot would be packed, wall to wall, with young, hot-blooded party-goers. The cover was pricey, but that was why she had brought her stoplight red, curve-hugging, and hooker-short dress out of her cramped closet. The skimpy clothes combined with her fashionably punky hair and a couple seconds of flirting would get her anything and everything she wanted tonight. What she wore underneath the gloss was more than worth it. Bobbi, like the rest of Vegas, had no idea what she had on under her dress.

"Oh my God, have you heard about this Alex Dupree thing?" Her roommate's voice was muffled because Bobbi had walked into her own room.

"What?" It wasn't as if she hadn't heard the other woman, it just seemed prudent to play dumb.

Bobbi came back into what could loosely be considered a living room with something small and glimmering in her hand. "I mean, you just had her over for TAN like a week ago. It's insane! They're saying she may have killed Dedrick Marsh, can you believe it?"

She opened her mouth but was interrupted before the first word when Bobbi showed her what she'd brought out. "Wear these earrings, K, they'll look good against your dark hair." The other woman leaned closer to hook one in her earlobe. "Wow, that's clunky, you're not wearing that are you?"

She stepped back, reclaiming her personal space, asking, "What that?" She took one of the large, dangling silver hoops out of Bobbi's hand and put it in her earlobe without argument. They did look good.

"That necklace, all those rings look weird. Is this one of those feminist things?"

She hooked the second hoop into her ear. "Not exactly, but it does make a statement, though, don't you think?"

Bobbi shrugged. "I guess." The drama major settled herself on the lumpy couch. "Hey do you want me to go with you?"

That stopped her fast. "Why? I thought you had an audition tomorrow."

Bobbi shrugged. "I'll be okay, it's just you know, with all the murders, it isn't safe for you alone."

She smiled. "Oh, come on, guys are the ones getting killed. I'll be fine. I thought they had Dupree locked up, anyway."

Bobbi looked uneasy, but finally shrugged. "All right, just take your mace and your cell." She scooped up her keys, complete with pepper spray, on her way out of the apartment. "Done and done, don't wait up."

She knew, logically, that it would probably be best to wait until the excitement died down. She should wait until another story of money, sex, scandal and murder caught the public's attention. She left the building and merged into the light foot traffic, heading to the bus stop. The press and the cops and everyone in Vegas were so busy chasing after Alexandra Dupree that no one would ever look her way. Why would they? She was too smart, too careful and too damn good at what she did to be noticed. They would never catch her. The Las Vegas Police could call in the National Guard, the FBI and every private detective in the world and they would still never catch her.

She caught the bus that would eventually take her to Fremont and to Vibe. It was only half full, locals and a few tourists. No one looked up when she boarded. The only person who made eye contact with her was the driver and that was only to confirm that the bus-pass she flashed belonged to her. She was a chameleon—no, better: she was a wolf among the sheep. No, she smiled to her reflection in the bus's window, she was a vigilante. All in all, she was no different from an oncologist, cutting the cancer away from healthy flesh. The only way to stop heinous crimes, like rape, was to prevent them from ever happening in the first place. In a city rampant with moral rot and ethical decay she carried the rape vaccine between her legs.

"Here you go, Baby Bro, your first steps into a brave new world." Adam elbowed Josh and snatched the slick, newly minted driver's license out of his older brother's hands.

It was, in both of their opinions, a work of art. Adam's picture had flawlessly been integrated onto a card with their cousin's information. The card had been a last minute gift from Justin to Adam before he had shipped out to Iraq. The brothers had taken it to a guy at WLVU, Justin's college, and with a small monetary donation, Adam went from almost seventeen to a cool and legal twenty-one. A combination of genetics, a rigorous workout schedule and carefully selected clothes helped him look the part. Even the watermark picture of Justin in the bottom right hand corner of the ID looked close enough to be him.

Adam grinned. "It's perfect." He held it up to the light for a more thorough inspection. There were no cracks, bubbles, creases, peeling corners or anything else that would give away the fact that it was a forgery. The c note had been more than worth it.

"Damn, stop ogling it and put it in your wallet already."

Adam kicked the seat in front of him in retaliation. He was riding into the city with some of his brother's buddies. "Are you sure you can get us into the club, Dozer?" The question was directed at the solidly built blond in the passenger seat.

Dozer, at six feet and some inches and two hundred pounds, more than lived up to his name. He scoffed, "For the third time, yes. Make your Mini-Me cram it, Josh. God, he's like one of those excited yappy dogs. Yip, yip, yip, yip all night long."

Adam shut his mouth without the aid of his brother's punch to the shoulder. He occupied himself, instead, with thoughts of all the action that was about to be coming his way. Everyone knew how wild college girls got and Vibe was the place to be tonight.

Dozer hadn't been too far off on his 'Mini-Me' comment. He and Josh (and Justin) did look a lot alike. They had the same stubbornly wavy dark hair and tan from the desert sun. Their shared love of baseball gave them fit and well toned muscles that sat very well on their tall frames. If not for the several years' difference between them, he and Adam would have been twins—triplets if you counted Justin. Adam wasn't conceited, not as much as Josh was at least, but he knew he looked good. He would have to beat the buck-wild, half naked hotties off of him with a stick. He'd see plenty of tits and maybe, if he was lucky, get some ass too.