73. Last Person You Talked To:
“So who was the last person you talked to?” asked the policeman.
I had to think for a minute. Who WAS the last person I’d talked to? Being drunk at the time didn’t help.
“Um, I think it was my girlfriend,” I said truthfully. “She wanted to know why I was leaving the party and I told her I felt sick and just wanted to go home.”
“Was that the truth?” asked the other policeman; the short, dumpy one as opposed to the tall, thin one.
“Of course it was the truth,” I said puzzled. “Why would I lie to my girlfriend?” I didn’t quite understand what he was getting at.
“Maybe you didn’t want her to know you were meeting some other woman,” shorty replied.
“Huh? What other woman?” I asked. I had no idea what he was talking about.
“The woman you were reportedly seen with; outside the 24 hour supermarket on Main Street.”
I was at a loss. What the hell was this guy talking about?! I hadn’t gone to any supermarket. I hadn’t met any woman. I’d come straight home.
“Our sources told us that you met an older woman and gave her a bag,” thin-man spoke up.
Jesus. Now I was starting to doubt myself. Did I honestly not remember? Had I been that drunk? Did someone drug me? Doubt began to creep in and it wasn’t a nice feeling.
“That’s not true!” I tried to say convincingly, but I heard the crack in my voice.
So did both the policemen.
I was hit by a sudden memory of a bright light and a woman with red curls and bright, red lipstick. The woman at the supermarket.
What the fuck had I done?