“I say—all of you—we’re going to gather in the lounge.”

“Is that Gregson?” Jackie asked.

Candy smiled. Her smile was sweet. Gregson had never tasted it before.

Morgan popped one of her migraine pills, and Drew drank his beer. He had a hazy, lazy, look in his eyes. He was bored. It didn’t matter that he might die—his whole life was about looking the part—being the part, until he wanted to scream. His wife was doing that, behind closed doors.

Matthew wasn’t wearing his trench coat. He was wearing tight, white, golfer pants. They were obscene. Gregson thought he spotted women’s undergarments—he quickly looked away, trying to shut-off his imagination.

Candy walked up to him, after he had taken a seat behind a mahogany desk. She put both of her hands down, leaning in, while looking in his eyes. Gregson noticed her black blouse was open—the bottom two buttons were undone. Was that a freckle or a hair? Definitely C cups.

“I know you can’t wait to question me,” Candy said. “Would you like to do it in the other room?”

“Do what, exactly?” Gregson asked.

“You know…”

Jackie was watching them. Gregson noticed. He glanced at Megan. She was watching Jackie, Candy, and him. 

“Can somebody tell me what we’re doing here?” Silas demanded. He walked into the room, like he owned the place.

“I want to get your story, over the past 24 hours,” Gregson said. “If it checks out, you are free to go.”

“Who put you in charge?” Silas asked.

Gregson turned his cell phone over to the retired jarhead.

“Who is this?”

A stuffy voice bounced back. It sounded like it had a minor cold. “This is Detective Talbert. Gregson is in charge, until I get there. Do as he says. If not, you’ll have to answer to the authorities, and you don’t want to spend time in a Mexican prison. Many of the men are starved for sex and they would love to…

“Don’t tell me anymore,” Silas said.

“…love you.”

Stephen and Joel, weren’t wearing their sunglasses. They looked like their birthdays had been canceled.

Jacob was waiting in the back. Chad was making-out his will. There was tension in the air. It was as if they were waiting for the killer to kill.

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