Jean was in her room putting the candy away when someone knocked on the door. She opened it to Detectives Voberg and Blackstone. “Oh!” Jean blinked with surprise. “Sorry, I thought you were one of our group.”

“May we come in?” Voberg asked.

“Uh. Sure.” Jean stood back and held the door open. “Come in. I just got back from the candy factory. I was putting the candy away.”

The two detectives came in. Both of them glanced into the bathroom, the open door right beside the room door. Then they stepped all the way in and looked around the room. Jean had asked for the environmentally friendly hotel maintenance so there was no maid service. She had pulled the blankets up on the bed and had all of her clothes either hanging in the closet or in the drawers, so the room was relatively tidy.

“How can I help you?”

Blackstone stood in front of the window while Voberg stood near the end of the bed. Jean was between them. Clever, she thought, dividing my attention so one can watch while the other asks questions.

“We did a background check on you. You had some trouble this last year.” Voberg had her notebook out, pen ready.

Jean nodded. “I did. The Air Force was looking into missing money from a project I had worked on my last year in Afghanistan. I was interviewed as a witness. There was no accusation or implication, even, that I was a person of interest.”

Blackstone spoke, and Jean had to turn to see him. “And the murder accusation?”

“An over-zealous mayor who confuses finding a body with murdering one.”

“We talked to the Greyson Chief of Police,” Voberg said as she looked at her notes, “a Nick White.”

Jean had to turn back to Voberg. “And?”

“He said you have a knack.”

Jean’s eyebrows drew together. “A knack?”

“Yeah. For figuring out who the murderer is without any of the forensics or other support the police have. He told us you’ve solved three murders in the last two years.”

“I don’t know. He would have found them himself if he hadn’t been so distracted with a mayor that expects that kind of thing to be solved in an hour.”

“You’re being modest,” Blackstone said. “He actually seemed impressed. He said you follow the social connections.

“But this isn’t a little town, Miss Hays.” Voberg said. “This is Las Vegas. We don’t need amateur help to solve crimes.”

Jean shook her head. “I don’t help Chief White.” She waved her hand. “What I mean is, Chief White doesn’t need my help. I just happened to figure it out in a totally different way.”

“And what have you figured out here?” Voberg asked.

“It’s unclear. I haven’t seen these people in years. But in conversations I’m getting a,” she shook her head again. “I don’t know, a vibe, I guess.”

Blackstone raised an eyebrow. “Vibe?”

“Yeah. Like today, Brandon Rivers went on the tour of the candy factory, but I saw him talking to a black-haired man just before he got back on the bus to come back here.”

“That’s it?” Voberg asked. His tone let Jean know he was incredulous.

“No, I also learned that he and Justin used to meet with what Justin told Gail Amendola were Afghani suppliers. Once a month or so.”

“And of what use is that information?”

Jean sighed. “Just that there is a rumor that I mentioned before, that Justin was a little too successful. The implication, I guess, is that maybe he still had those contacts. Maybe that he was or is, still wheeling and dealing.”

Voberg snapped her notebook shut and put it and her pen in her pocket. “I think, Miss Hays, that you should leave the detecting to us.”

Blackstone moved to stand with his partner.

“I know these people, at least a little. And we all leave in another day or so. I think I can help. I’ve already mentioned a couple of people that you could question.”

It was Voberg’s turn to raise an eyebrow. She drew a deep breath. “Perhaps you really think so.” The partners began to move to the door.

“May I ask? Did you find blood in Justin’s room?” She watched as the two traded glances.

“You were correct in your guess. His body was dumped in the sauna. And yes, there was blood in the room and signs of a struggle. The autopsy hasn’t been completed yet.” Voberg tilted her head as she studied Jean. “What are you going to do with that information?”

Jean shrugged. “I don’t know. But if it was one of us, then that person is going to be getting nervous. They may do something or say something that tips you, or me, off.” Jean sighed. “May I have your card? If I learn something, I can call.”

Blackstone hitched his pants up. To Jean’s thinking, he looked annoyed. “Miss Hays. Poking into a murder could get you hurt, or killed. Stay out of it.”

Voberg pulled a card out of her suit pocket and handed it to Jean. “But if you hear anything, let me know.” Blackstone glared at her.

Jean nodded as she took the card. “What about the sequins?”

Blackstone and Voberg both stared. “What sequins?” Blackstone asked.

“The ones that trailed from in front of Justin’s door to the elevator. One every three or four feet.”

Voberg pulled her pad from her pocket and made a note. “We’ll look.”

Jean felt a little better. She might have seen something they missed.

“It’s probably nothing,” Blackstone said. “Could be left over from some other guest.”

Jean nodded. “Sure.”

The two went to the door and walked into the hall. “Leave it to us,” Voberg said.

“Understood, detectives.”

They left, and Jean closed the door. Her cell phone rang. It was Stephanie French. “Hey, a couple of us are going to that big gift shop at the north end of the strip. Want to go?”

“Sure. Where are we meeting?”

“Lobby. Fifteen minutes.”

“I’ll be there.” Jean clicked off and sat down on the bed. So, what just happened? She learned that Justin was probably killed in his room. They said there was blood, but she hadn’t noticed any on him in the sauna. They missed the sequins in the hall, but in fairness, if they didn’t find any in his room, they wouldn’t think much of them in the hall. She gave them Brandon’s name as a possible person of interest. She felt a little bad about throwing Gail under the bus, but she didn’t seem like she was involved in any way. Should she have told them about her meeting with Brandon last night outside of Justin’s room?

She got up and went to the bathroom. There was nothing to tell, really, she told herself as she did a quick wash-up. Jean sighed at her reflection in the mirror. Was she getting in over her head? What did she really know about these people after all these years. Was Justin into something illegal? With Afghani’s? Was the killer really one of us?

Jean left the bathroom and got her phone, her small purse and put Detective Voberg’s card in it. It was all she could do for now. She left to meet the others in the lobby. When she got there, Stephanie was already there. “I’ve got an Uber coming,” she told Jean.

“Hey, you two,” Damon said as he approached. “This is supposed to be the biggest gift shop in town. If you can’t find it there, you don’t want it,” he chuckled.

Soren came up to them from the direction of the elevators and Dwight, from the casino floor. Jean rolled her eyes at the sight of Dwight. Soren got to them first. “Hi there. Are we all ready?”

“I’m here,” Dwight said. “I think that’s all of us.”

“Good, we’ll go outside.” Stephanie looked at her phone. “The Uber should be here in just a minute.”

They all trooped outside, and stood to the left of the entrance, waiting for the car to pull up. “I’m thinking we should hit one of the fancy restaurants on the strip after the gift store,” Soren said.

Jean could see that Dwight wasn’t happy with that plan, but Stephanie jumped in with, “That sounds like a great idea. Let’s do that!”

That’s when the Uber pulled up. They let Stephanie get the front passenger seat as she was the one who arranged for the ride. The rest squeezed into the back, Jean between Soren and Dwight with Damon at the right-side window.

It didn’t take too long to get there and they all piled out. “What do we owe you Stephanie?” Jean asked.

“Don’t worry about it. I’m good.”

The Uber driver left, and they looked at the outside of the building. Jean used her phone to take a picture of the others in front of the store and posted it on the group’s social media page before she followed the others inside. The hype about the store wasn’t kidding. There was every kind of Vegas tee-shirt known to mankind in the store. All sorts of doo-dads, like shot glasses, coffee mugs, jewelry and more. It was all a bit overwhelming, actually. She focused on the tee-shirts, getting one for herself and two for her grand-kids for Christmas. Dwight wandered into the section and crossed his arms.

“I heard you’re the murder queen in that little backwater you live in.”

Jean glanced at him. This was a side of him she’d never liked. “Jealous?”

He snorted. “Why would I be jealous?”

She shook her head and continued to look at the shirts.

“You always think you know what you’re doing. Always have to be right.”

That hurt. It was nearly the same thing Karen had said last summer. Jean had to swallow a snarky comment. Obviously, she’d had this character flaw for a while. She was trying to change that. “Sometimes. I’m working on that.”

He snorted again. “About time.”

Jean turned on him. “You have a problem?”

Dwight stared at the ceiling. “No.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

He sighed. “No. I’m strapped for cash. I came out here hoping to make some connections. Maybe get a better job. But Brandon is an ass and still in the Air Force. That’s not much help.”

Jean draped a shirt for herself over her arm and moved to the kid’s tee-shirts. “I’ve been out for a while now, Dwight. I’m not going to be of much help either.”

He followed her to the kid’s tee’s. “I know.”

“I can buy you lunch?” She wondered about the wad of cash he’d flashed the first night but didn’t ask. Maybe it was all ones?

“No. I don’t need that kind of charity.”

“Did you search the Project Management Institute site? There’s a whole section for project managers looking for work and companies looking for project managers.”

“I looked there. Maybe it’s a slow time of year. There wasn’t much.”

Jean didn’t know what else to do for him. She pulled a tee from the rack that looked good for her grandson, then put it back and got a larger size. The kids grew so fast at this age. “How’d you know about the murders?”

“You told someone the first night. Word got around.”

Jean nodded. It hadn’t been a secret, but she hadn’t expected it to be gossiped about. “Okay.”

“Everybody is both a little creeped out and a little excited. It seems different from their normal day to day.”

“I guess it is.” She found a tee for her granddaughter and draped all three over her arm. “I’m done here. Let’s find the others.”

It was another half hour before everyone was finished. Jean called a cab which picked them up and took them down the strip to a place the driver recommended. It was a barbeque place and Jean wasn’t excited. Barbeque always seemed too heavy to her, but the others were enthusiastic, so she went along.

They had a good time. The restaurant had a guitarist and banjo player on stage for entertainment. The food was good, Jean managed to find something on the light side, and everyone had beers. By the time she finished her second beer, it was time to find the ladies room. It was way in the back, down a twisty corridor. Had to fit it in around the kitchen, Jean thought. She finished up and came back out into the hall and was walking past the men’s room when someone punched her in her back and in the kidneys and darted back into the kitchen door at the end of the hall.

Jean fell to her knees. She could hardly breathe and her eyes filled with tears of pain. That’s when Stephanie came around the corner. “Oh my, God, Jean!” She hurried over and tried to help Jean get up. Jean waved her off.

“I’m calling 911.”

Jean nodded consent. She’d never been in so much pain in her life. She had a random thought that she was glad she’d just emptied her bladder. The restaurant manager came out of the kitchen and did his best to help. Stephanie went back out front to tell the others. Jean was surprised to see Dwight hurry to her. “What happened?”

Jean had recovered enough to say, “Someone punched me in my kidneys.”

His face went red. “What?”

“Someone hit me from behind.”

He put an arm around her. She could see he was angry. “We’ll find out who.”

She didn’t see how but nodded. The ambulance crew came in from the kitchen, wheeling a gurney. It was a tight fit in the hallway, but she managed to get on it and they wheeled her out the back. By then, Stephanie had rejoined Dwight. “I’m going with her,” he told Stephanie.

“I’ll tell the others.”

That was all Jean heard as they took her into the kitchen. Dwight brought up the rear of the procession out to the loading dock where they put her in the ambulance. “Ride in the front,” the one paramedic told him. Dwight nodded and got in.

The ride to the hospital was fast and Jean spent hours there, among other things, getting ultrasounds of her kidneys. The doctor finally came into her bay. “You’ve already got bruising on your back. You don’t have any blood in your urine, that’s a good sign. But it’s going to hurt for a while. I understand you’re here for a reunion?”

“Yes.”

“No drinking. Your kidneys have enough to do right now.”

Jean nodded.

“Will there be any permanent damage?” Dwight asked.

“There shouldn’t be.” The doctor finished punching the notepad in his hand and looked up. If you’re in severe pain,” he handed her a card, “call me right away.”

“I will. Truthfully, it feels better already.”

“Even so. No alcohol, no rough rides. Rest.”

“Thank you, Doctor.”

“We’re turning this in to the police. They may contact you.”

“Understood.”

“The nurse will be in shortly to release you.”

“Great. Thanks.” Jean sighed as the doctor left. “Great vacation.”

“I’ll call a cab,” Dwight said. He went out of the bay to make the call as the nurse came in.

“Ready to go?”

“I am. Dwight is calling us a cab.”

“Okay, let’s get you dressed.”

They got the cab back to the hotel and Dwight walked her to her room. “Are you sure you’re going to be alright?”

“I’m sure. I’m going to order room service. Some soup, maybe, and watch some TV.” She opened the door and stepped inside. Tell everyone I’m fine.”

“I’ll do that.” He stepped back. “I’ll call you in the morning.”

“Great. Thanks.” She shut the door. Jean hobbled into the room and got into her pajamas. Remote in hand, water on the side table, she climbed painfully into bed. Dwight had been quite solicitous, she thought. Though she shouldn’t be surprised. When she’d had Jim, he’d hardly left her side though the entire process. Maybe he wasn’t the complete jerk she’d painted him.

Next Chapter: Chapter Ten