wordings in his head. Would anyone who knew Cosbright please come forward? The police are seeking information regarding her movements yesterday. Did that sound too scary? Would it put off potential witnesses?
Paul sat down at a laptop and began updating the schedule, replacing the Murder game with Mickey Groene’s alternative programming.
Vince took a deep breath. “Okay, is anything else urgent at the moment? I mean, of course yes, but really, really urgent? Because I haven’t eaten yet today, and I still haven’t seen Valerie Kimberton, and I can only put her off for so long before she flips out and finds some legal way to yank their sponsorship and break us over her knobbly knee.” He sighed again. “And I think I want a drink, I don’t care if it is before noon.” He turned and pointed. “Paul, you have the con.”
“What?”
“What? It’s a pun. You know how whenever the captain leaves the bridge he passes control to another officer with, You have the conn? Like when Captain Kirk…. Never mind. I’ll be back as soon as I find some protein and a beer, in either order.”
Sirens came distantly through the babble of hallway conversation, and Vince sighed. “I guess that’s going to be how it is.”
Daniel shook his head. “Shouldn’t be any sirens, not for an investigation like this. That’s emergency.”
“Maybe they’re just passing,” Jacob suggested.
But the sirens grew louder, and then they seemed to plateau at moderately loud, and then they shut off abruptly rather than fading away again with distance.
Vince shoved his earpiece into position and spun the volume dial on his radio. “Does anyone know what’s going on outside with the sirens? Are those for us?”
No one answered, and he called again. Finally someone responded, “I don’t know anything, but I see the ambulance team. Got to be something in the hotel. I’m following, will let you know what I learn.”
“Where are you?”
“Mezzanine. Heading toward the central elevator well.”
Vince jerked his head. “We’re on our way.”
As they hurried toward the elevators, the Con Aid member reported further. “EMTs won’t answer questions, I’m not staff. Past the well, toward the bar, still following.”
They took an escalator, skipping steps.
“At the hotel bar. It’s not serving yet, but they’re going in. They — there’s somebody on the floor. Not moving. They’re checking her, but they don’t…. They don’t look like they’re in a big hurry.”
Vince swore.
“I — I think it’s that MEGAN!ME lady. I don’t remember her name. But it looks like her.”
Chapter Nine
Valerie Kimberton had been dead for nearly an hour, they thought, before the EMTs had arrived. It was hard to say for certain just yet, but the gamers who had found her while looking for empty tables for card games had called 911 immediately, and she had not responded to their shaking or well-meaning attempts to check for a pulse.
Vince was leaning over a table in the staff suite, surrounded by department heads again, ignoring the vegetable tray beside him as he rested his temples in his hands. “There was nothing wrong with her yesterday. It’s another death, and that can’t be an accident. It’s going to be murder for her, too. That means some psychopath is randomly picking off con-goers.”
“Why random?” prompted Daniel.
“Because if anyone wanted to murder that woman, I’d be first in line.” Vince blinked. “Oh. Oh, no.”
Jacob pressed his lips together. Daniel cleared his throat. “Just a friendly word of advice, Vince: you might not want to say things like that in front of other people.”
Vince looked at Daniel, his eyes a bit wide. “But — I’m going to be a suspect, aren’t I? I mean, everyone saw us arguing, right in the dealer hall. If they do any probing….”
The staff suite was very quiet, and the enthused laughter and calls from the hallway were loud through the door.
“Given the circumstances,
Paul sat down at a laptop and began updating the schedule, replacing the Murder game with Mickey Groene’s alternative programming.
Vince took a deep breath. “Okay, is anything else urgent at the moment? I mean, of course yes, but really, really urgent? Because I haven’t eaten yet today, and I still haven’t seen Valerie Kimberton, and I can only put her off for so long before she flips out and finds some legal way to yank their sponsorship and break us over her knobbly knee.” He sighed again. “And I think I want a drink, I don’t care if it is before noon.” He turned and pointed. “Paul, you have the con.”
“What?”
“What? It’s a pun. You know how whenever the captain leaves the bridge he passes control to another officer with, You have the conn? Like when Captain Kirk…. Never mind. I’ll be back as soon as I find some protein and a beer, in either order.”
Sirens came distantly through the babble of hallway conversation, and Vince sighed. “I guess that’s going to be how it is.”
Daniel shook his head. “Shouldn’t be any sirens, not for an investigation like this. That’s emergency.”
“Maybe they’re just passing,” Jacob suggested.
But the sirens grew louder, and then they seemed to plateau at moderately loud, and then they shut off abruptly rather than fading away again with distance.
Vince shoved his earpiece into position and spun the volume dial on his radio. “Does anyone know what’s going on outside with the sirens? Are those for us?”
No one answered, and he called again. Finally someone responded, “I don’t know anything, but I see the ambulance team. Got to be something in the hotel. I’m following, will let you know what I learn.”
“Where are you?”
“Mezzanine. Heading toward the central elevator well.”
Vince jerked his head. “We’re on our way.”
As they hurried toward the elevators, the Con Aid member reported further. “EMTs won’t answer questions, I’m not staff. Past the well, toward the bar, still following.”
They took an escalator, skipping steps.
“At the hotel bar. It’s not serving yet, but they’re going in. They — there’s somebody on the floor. Not moving. They’re checking her, but they don’t…. They don’t look like they’re in a big hurry.”
Vince swore.
“I — I think it’s that MEGAN!ME lady. I don’t remember her name. But it looks like her.”
Chapter Nine
Valerie Kimberton had been dead for nearly an hour, they thought, before the EMTs had arrived. It was hard to say for certain just yet, but the gamers who had found her while looking for empty tables for card games had called 911 immediately, and she had not responded to their shaking or well-meaning attempts to check for a pulse.
Vince was leaning over a table in the staff suite, surrounded by department heads again, ignoring the vegetable tray beside him as he rested his temples in his hands. “There was nothing wrong with her yesterday. It’s another death, and that can’t be an accident. It’s going to be murder for her, too. That means some psychopath is randomly picking off con-goers.”
“Why random?” prompted Daniel.
“Because if anyone wanted to murder that woman, I’d be first in line.” Vince blinked. “Oh. Oh, no.”
Jacob pressed his lips together. Daniel cleared his throat. “Just a friendly word of advice, Vince: you might not want to say things like that in front of other people.”
Vince looked at Daniel, his eyes a bit wide. “But — I’m going to be a suspect, aren’t I? I mean, everyone saw us arguing, right in the dealer hall. If they do any probing….”
The staff suite was very quiet, and the enthused laughter and calls from the hallway were loud through the door.
“Given the circumstances,
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