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"Now if we only had some idea who D could be," she mused out loud."Oh, come on Jenna. You know we never get the easy ones, those go to the slackers an... the kiss asses." He rubbed his hand down her arm, feeling the chill on the skin bared by the tee shirt she'd managed to pull out of her locker to go with the jeans she had unearthed. The morgue was cold, purposefully kept that way to put a temporary hold on decomposition and smell. Even so, the scent of death lingered above the heavy duty air. Beautiful long legs, a tight ass that moved ever so nicely, and hint of perfume. The small crowd passed and we walked side by side again, past the sea of slot machines and video poker. I instinctively walked toward the elevators, but she walked to the right toward the rear entrance. She paused and motioned with a nod, and said "I forgot to tell you, my room isn't here at the Sahara. I stay at Mandalay Bay, on the other end of the strip." It never occurred to me that we would go outside the. More

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