Divas and Dead Rebels Read Online Free

said, “You’re not going to believe this, but someone came in and stole all our clothes and bed linens!”
    “Really,” said Bitty calmly. “Well, don’t worry about it. We can go shopping to get you some more.”
    Clayton appeared next to his brother as we entered the room. It was a mess. I felt a twinge of concern. Then my concern changed into horror when Clayton said, “I already called the campus police. They’ll be here any minute to investigate.”
    I looked at Bitty, and she looked back at me. Uh oh.

Chapter 2
    There have been a few times in my adult life when I nearly wet myself. Only twice can I recall passing the “nearly” mark and sliding into “soggy.” This was almost one of those times. I barely made it to the dorm bathroom in time. Students are not the neatest people. It was like stepping into a primeval swamp. If some prehistoric creature had risen out of the showers, I would not have been the least surprised. Nevertheless, it did not deter me from my mission.
    When I returned, two campus policemen were standing in the middle of the dorm room taking down information. Bitty was listing missing items on her fingers. Light from the windows made her huge diamond rings sparkle as she named off L.L. Bean bedding and Ralph Lauren towels. I held my breath waiting for lightning to strike her. It should. She had more gall than anyone I knew to stand there lying to law enforcement like she did it every day.
    “But I have no intention of filing a claim or anything,” Bitty said while the young officer wrote on his small notepad. “I’ll replace all those items myself.”
    “Yes, ma’am,” he said politely. “I’ll note that as well.”
    The other officer was older and not quite as deferential. He studied Bitty, then the dorm room, and looked over a few items left behind by the bedding thieves. Laptops. CD and DVD players. Thirty-inch flat screen TV with an X-Box or Wii or whatever that was hooked up to it. He had the look of a man who recognized when something didn’t fit.
    “All that was taken was bedding and some clothes?” he asked abruptly, cutting off the young policeman who had started to speak.
    “Why yes, as I was telling this polite young man,” Bitty said, “it looks like all that’s been stolen are garments and luxury bedding.”
    Her unuttered reproof against his rudeness was not wasted on the officer. He put one hand on his hip, far too close to the buttoned-down holster of his gun, in my opinion. I took two steps back, just in case.
    “Ma’am,” he began, “there’s something fishy about—”
    “My name is Mrs. Hollandale,” Bitty interrupted with one of those feline smiles that can portray bitchiness even better than words. I don’t know why she does that at the worst possible moments. All I can figure is that she has a death wish. Or at the least, an incarceration wish.
    The police officer gave her a look but said in a civil tone, “Mrs. Hollandale, is it normal for your sons to leave their dorm room unlocked when they go to class?”
    Bitty batted her baby blues at him. “Gracious, I’m sure it isn’t, but they can answer that much better than I can. Boys, please answer the officer’s questions.”
    Brandon and Clayton, who are used to their mama’s quirks by now, just nodded. It was Brandon who said, “We always lock up. And I thought the same thing, sir. Why take just stuff like blankets and sheets and towels instead of our laptops or the TV? We’ve got all these expensive games lying around . . . it just seems weird.”
    The officer agreed. “Is there anyone who may be pulling a practical joke on you?”
    Clayton grinned. “That’s always possible. I never thought of that—do you think Heather might know something, bro?”
    The last he addressed to his brother, since Brandon was seeing a rather nice young lady named Heather Lightner. I had once suspected her of murder, but I was completely wrong about that. Among other things. I don’t usually mind