Dwight went to Jean’s room first thing after he got up. He stopped dead in the hall as he rounded the corner from the elevator lobby. The place was crawling with cops. People had their heads out of their doors watching if they weren’t actively walking by, trying to peek into the room door. What happened to Jean! He hurried to one of the policemen. “Excuse me.” Dwight’s heart was pounding. “I know the person in this room, is she alright?”

“I’m sorry sir.” The policeman talking to him couldn’t be as old as his own son. “I’m not at liberty to say.”

“Look, this is my ex-wife’s room and she was attacked yesterday. I need to talk to someone in charge.”

The officer eyed him with some suspicion. He clicked on his shoulder mic. “I have a Mister...” he waited for Dwight.
“Hays. Dwight Hays.”

“I have a Mr. Dwight Hays here. Says he knows the victim.”

Dwight’s stomach dropped. Victim? What does that mean?

The young man listened and nodded. “Roger that.” He looked at Dwight. “Detective Voberg will be right out.”

Dwight drew in a breath and let it out. He stepped back to the wall to get out of the way. Soon, the woman he’d met yesterday came out. Today she was in a black pantsuit, with a light green blouse. “Mr. Hays.”

Dwight stepped up to the detective. “Is Jean all right?”

“Yes, sir. She’s fine. She’s downstairs, waiting, if you’d like to see her.”

He nodded and turned to go.

“Mr. Hays,” Detective Voberg called. “A moment please.”

Dwight turned back. “Yes?”

“You know anyone who would want to hurt your ex-wife?”

Dwight shook his head. “No. She was and is, a straight shooter. She makes friends, supports charity. I don’t understand who would break into her room.”

“How do you know her room was broken into?”

“Well, if she’s not hurt, she wasn’t attacked, that could only mean her room was broken into.”

Detective Voberg eyed him.

Dwight began to feel uncomfortable. “I did not break into her room. I left her last night at eleven, resting as comfortably as she could. She was attacked yesterday—did you know that?”

“Yes. She called me last night about nine to let me know.”

Dwight felt better about that. “So, what are you doing to find her attacker?”

Detective Voberg raised an eyebrow. “We’re looking into it.”

Dwight resisted the urge to snort. “Well. Thanks. Am I free to go?”

Her eyebrow rose again. “Yes. We have your information.”

Dwight turned and left. He found Jean in the lobby surrounded by reunion people just beginning to drift off. He sat down beside her, and asked what he could do. As usual, nothing. She was so independent, never wanted anything. Was that the problem between them? She didn’t need him? That prompted an apology. He felt terrible about what was happening now and what had happened between them.

She was focused on Gail, Brandon and Fletcher as suspects, but he didn’t get it. Gail wasn’t even at the restaurant yesterday. Neither was Brandon. Finally, she allowed him to go get replacement candy. Apparently, whoever broke into her room smashed the candy into the carpet.

Without thinking he leaned in to kiss her on the cheek. He was shocked at her recoil. Stupid, Dwight. She’s not your wife any more. He had to apologize again, then turned and left. What a moron. Don’t do that again. Go get her candy and try and act like a grown up.

It was a cab ride to the factory, then thirty dollars in candy, then another cab ride back to the hotel. The expense was worth it if he could make amends with Jean. The whole time he thought about why Jean was hot on Gail, Brandon and Fletcher. As the cab pulled up to the building, he realized she was working on Justin’s murder. He paid the cabby and got out, feeling like a jerk. He’d completely forgotten Justin. What did that say about his compassion or sympathy levels.

Inside the lobby, he met Stephanie and Kiko. “Hey, ladies.”

“Hi, Dwight.” They said in unison and laughed. They eyed the bag in his hand.

“Back to the candy factory?” Kiko pointed at the bag.

“Yeah. You know Jean’s room was broken into?”

The women nodded. “That’s horrible,” Stephanie said. “Who could have done that?”

“I don’t know,” Dwight replied. “But they ruined Jean’s candy, so I went and got her some more while she’s dealing with the police.”

“That is so sweet of you, Dwight.” Kiko patted him on the hand.

“Very nice, Dwight.” Stephanie beamed at him. “We’re on our way over to the Bellagio. We’re treating ourselves to a very fancy lunch. Want to come?”

“Uh, that sounds delightful, ladies.” He held up the bag of candy. “But I have to track Jean down and get this to her.”

“Oh, yes. Of course,” Kiko said.

“You do that. See you at tonight’s dinner?” Stephanie asked.

“I think so. Jean too. Have a good time.”

They left. He took a breath. How was he supposed to find Jean? He went to the bench she was on earlier and called her cell. She answered and said she’d be down. He rubbed his temples. What was going on here? Why all the mystery?

And maybe he should start thinking more about Justin. Who killed him and did the attacks on Jean have anything to do with it? She hadn’t said anything. Even the chat last night was inconclusive. Actually, it turned more into a game with more outrageous suggestions at each turn. Did she know who killed Justin? Was that why she had her eye on Gail, Brandon and Fletcher? All of a sudden, he felt as though he didn’t know anyone. He had a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. He watched Jean get off of the elevator and walk across the lobby. Was she in danger of dying? Dwight felt more protective than ever. 

Next Chapter: Chapter Fifteen