(Las Vegas, day six of the Marlow investigation)

Corey had just finished his uneventful call with Dr. Marylyn Wasserman from Hopkins' Department of Psychological and Brain Science.

"So what's up with that?" Mattingly asked, finishing off his sandwich and washing it down with a diet coke.

"They're pretty closed-mouth," Corey replied. "About whether Henley attended the Hopkins graduate program or not. Though that brings us to more questions than we started with."

"Yeah. So what did you expect?"

"That Department Chair . . . where the girl was most likely enrolled? She wouldn't even confirm if the Feds had already been there with her."

"And you think there's a reason for that? Why she wouldn't tell you?"

"There's something going on here, Bill. Some kind of back story to this dream study lead. I can smell it. Something the FBI already knows. Something that came up on the girl's laptop."

"But what could that be?"

"Whatever it is, pal. The Feds have put a lock-down on any information to go forward. This Dr. Wasserman knows more, I can tell you that. And probably some very select people know a lot more."

Corey pulled the paper out of his pocket with the names and numbers of two of Henley's close girlfriends, according to her mother. "This could give us a leg up on those FBI bastards," he said. "Henley's mom didn't mention she' given any names to the Feds when they interviewed her. She even had to search the girl's room for the numbers. We might have a better take on Marlow's mindset through these girlfriends of hers."

He picked up the office phone again and began to dial while Mattingly added his notes on the Limousines to a folder on the desk.

"Hello. Is this . . . Jaelyn? Jaelyn Coe?"

"Yes. . . Who's this?"

Corey once again put the broadcast button on for Mattingly to hear.

"Miss Coe, my name is Jeffers, and I work for the Las Vegas Police Department. Over here in Nevada? Henley Marlow's mother gave me your name and phone number."

"Oh . . . OK."

"As you know, we're trying to locate your friend."

"Oh my gosh, yes! How's that going?"

"Well, we may be making some progress here. I was wondering if you'd give me just a little insight about Henley to help us. Would that be possible?"

"Well sure. Alright. I'm teaching a yoga class here at the community center in about five minutes."

"OK."

"Lieutenant, do you have any ideas what's happened to Henley? Who she might be with?"

"Not yet, but I'm working every angle I can, Miss Coe. Just need a few facts which you may be able to provide."

"Alright. You can call me back in say. . . an hour and a half?"

"Sure. That works for me."

"Listen. This has been really hard. Especially for . . . those of us who are . . . really close to Henley."

"I'm sure. Miss."

"OK. I'll be waiting for your call."

"Sound's good. Thanks."

Corey held the paper of his notes up close to his face to read his scribbling of the second name and number. He then dialed.

"Hello? Is this Evelyn Draper?"

"Well maybe I am . . . Who the hell are you?"

"Miss Draper, I'm a special investigator for the Las Vegas Police Department . . . working on the Henley Marlow case?"

"And? . . . You guys ain't found her yet . . . so what's with that?"

"We're doing our best. Henley's mother gave me your number. I was just hoping you might . . ."

"Look, man . . . All I know is she goes off to this . . . beauty contest and never comes back, OK?"

"Were you and Miss Marlow close then?"

"Hey buddy, I'm not gonna get into our relationship, alright? I just want to know why you guys and the Federal Government can't find her."

"Were you approached by the FBI, then Miss Draper?"

"They tried. Said they found me as a main contact on her Instagram account. "I told them to fuck off! Our dealings are totally personal, you got that? End of story. And what did you say your name was?"

"Jeffers . . . Officer Corey Jeffers. Look, Miss. I'm not working for the FBI. I'm just trying to get some insight on Henley's sphere of friends so I can . . ."

"Hey man. Henley's sphere? Don't use that college bullshit talk on me, OK?"She was a friend, alright? Maybe a little more than a friend sometimes. And all I know is she's gone. Call me back when you find out where she is!"

The line went dead. Corey and Bill just looked at each other.

"So what did you make of that," he asked his partner."

"Complicated chick."

"Yeah. Pretty hostile. Some real issues with authority there."

"Come on, man, we're used to that . . . But what did you make of 'a little more than a friend'?"

"Don't know, Bill. . . Bi . . .gay . . . overly possessive? You said it . . . Complicated. How do we get into these things, my friend?"

"Comes with the job, junior."

"Yeah, Let's hope we get a little more out of Jaelyn Coe."

"Go get some lunch, Corey. You look like you're losing weight since we took on this case."

"Seriously?"

"Well I don't see you powering down on Chinese or Sushi or even a decent burger these days in here, man."

"Yeah. You're right. Hey, where'd you get that sandwich?"

"Over at Jeffey's . . . On Freemont and East."

"I'm gone . . . Be back for that call."

"Don't get the turkey."

"You didn't seem to have much of a problem with it."

"I'll tell you by this afternoon."

"Right. Thanx for the tip, man."

* * *

When Corey returned, he had a box full of tacos, a peach flavored iced tea and a side of spicy nachos.

"Oh man, you're gonna kill me with the smell of those nachos," Bill said.

"You can have . . . two. I mean it Bill. Only two."

Just then their door swung open, and the Chief entered.

"Sorry to break up this luncheon and small talk, gentlemen. But I've got some breaking news for you guys."

Corey moved the un-opened boxed of food and drink to the corner of his desk.

"Just got off the phone with that ass-bite Chief from the Force . . . Allan Sache. Mr. Gray hair, gray suit."

Both men held back a smile while waiting for the long-awaited report from their supposed associates in the investigation.

"I finely shamed the guy, through the mayor's office, to break with the goddamned silence treatment. To give us what they have."

Mattingly looked at Jeffers, surprised.

"Seems the girl was a member of a tight group of online lesbian and bisexual girlfriends. Most in Arizona, where she lived. But also in California, Oregon and some right here in Las Vegas.

Bill raised his eyebrows.

"Could be something to this," the Chief said, looking determined. "At least who with, and possibly why she left the hotel that night."

Corey just nodded.

"I want you guys to check out this list of three females, living and working here in Vegas, according to Sache. They were frequent online contacts of hers." He placed the list on their desk. "It's maybe something, key. It's maybe nothing, guys. But the Feds want us to get back to them with what we learn about these three gay women."

Again, both men looked at each other in silence.

"So that's it, gentlemen. I want you to curb all your other inquires right now and just focus on this new angle. Absolutely nothing goes out to the press on anything you uncover, capiche? We just got to keep those newshounds on ice for now."

"Right," Mattingly acknowledged, robotically

"Jeffers, I'm sure by now, that dream study bullshit idea hasn't turned up much for you, right?"

"Actually . . . there could be something there, Chief. I'm still working on it."

"Well, put that on the back burner now, Corey. Let's show these FBI jerks we can do something right. Get detailed notes from interviews with these local females. Keep in mind they were Marlow's gay or bi contacts online and members of some kind of group. High priority. Got that?"

Both men nodded expressionlessly as the Chief gave his prime investigators a demeaning thumbs-up.

* * *