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risked his life to save one of your guests. Also gives you some extra time to track down the manager.”
    â€œOf course,” the clerk said. “I’ll just need an ID.”
    I nudged Steve. “He’ll give you his. Mine is in the truck. I’ll check into my room later.”
    â€œDetective,” a young officer rushed inside. “We still haven’t identified the victim. The morg—”
    Bell tilted his head toward me and held up a hand to quiet the officer. “We’ll clear that up soon.”
    â€œNo one knows her,” the officer said
    No one? A knot formed in my throat. I decided to try and help a little. “Some croppers come as a single and not as part of a group. Lydia Clement or Marsha Smith could give you a copy of the registration forms.”
    â€œThe forms indicate who came alone?” Bell asked.
    I nodded. “Groups split room costs. And croppers will write on their forms who they’d like to share a table with and have around them. The organizers do their best to accommodate all requests. They’d know who came as singles.”
    Bell handed the officer back his handcuffs. “Thank you for the information, Miss Hunter. That’ll help us speed up the process.”
    â€œYour keys.” The clerk held out a white sleeve.
    I felt someone hovering behind me. I glanced over my shoulder.
    Ellie gave me an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry to bother you right now, but we still can’t get into the conference center. No one’s seen Lydia or knows where Marsha is.”
    â€œGo on.” Steve held the card in the air. “I’ll be in the room.”
    I hesitated. Steve suffered a head injury. He shouldn’t be left alone.
    He removed one of the room keys and placed it in my back pocket. He brushed a kiss over my lips. “Come check on me once you help them.”
    â€œAll right.” I hated leaving him, but we did need to get into the room. Hopefully, Gussie Buford and Darlene Johnson would show up soon. They’d get the store ready for me while I cared for Steve.
    â€œIf we split up we might find someone who can let us in sooner,” Ellie said. “Pauline is checking out the fitness center, and I told her I’d run down to the convenience store near the entrance to the interstate. Maybe Lydia or Marsha went there.”
    â€œLydia asked me to let the manager know she was running late. He must have a set of keys to let us in.”
    â€œThe bar and grill is down the hall,” the clerk said, pointing the way. “You might find Marsha there.”
    The sneer in the woman’s voice caught my attention. “Did you see her there?”
    â€œI haven’t.” The clerk pressed her lips together.
    That was all she was going to say about that, but I was smart enough to hear the unsaid drama.
    â€œThanks.” I hurried down the hallway, which fortunately was short. We needed to get in the conference center. If the store was opened late, no biggie, but if the scrappers lost cropping time we would never hear the end of it. Plus it might affect the reputation of the Cropportunity events and any extra income opportunities for Scrap This.
    I almost missed the bar as a tiny wooden sign was all that announced the location. The door was the same style and painted the same color as the doors for the restrooms. I tugged it open. One man sat in the corner typing away on a laptop, and another man wearing khakis and a white polo shirt with a logo of an inverted V resembling a mountain range talked to the bartender. I saw the word “manager” on his nametag but couldn’t make out his name.
    â€œI ain’t switching shifts so I can babysit a bunch of women.” The bartender swiped a cloth across the counter. He used the back of his hand to shove a lock of blond hair from his eyes. “Besides, I’m already here and clocked in.”
    â€œAbby isn’t physically able to help a