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well and living in Two Trout. No brothers, one sister, so not a lot to look at in terms of family.”
    Trevor watched Stacy on the monitor and wondered what convinced her to trade the wrong side of the tracks in Two Trout for a Hollywood strip club. Another small-town hopeful trying to make it big in Tinseltown, discovering that the shot comes at a very steep price?
    “Basically, nothing I uncovered in her past or her family tree sets my Spidey sense tingling,” Ian concluded. “I’ll leave the data on your desk if you want to take a look?”
    Trevor shook his head. Ian was thorough and his instincts reliable, even if his detective’s badge wasn’t yet six months old. “No need. Nothing’s tingling for me either. What about her job, or personal life?”
    “Vern confirmed she’s been at Deuces for almost two years, like she told you, and he says she’s one of his most popular dancers. Not the warmest, friendliest gal with the rest of the staff, but she always shows up on time and ready to work, and doesn’t bring a lot of personal drama with her like some of the girls. Consistent with that observation, he’s never caught so much as a hint of a jealous boyfriend, obsessive ex, overprotective buddy, or strange stalker-type hanging around.”
    “No boyfriends?” Trevor raised an eyebrow. “I find that hard to believe.”
    “Plenty of boys, but no friends. Vern implied she likes variety in her personal life and rarely goes back for second helpings of anything she’s already sampled. Claims he tries to stay out of his peoples’ business, but in his experience, she doesn’t stick with the same guy long enough for anybody to develop an attachment. Also, as far as he knows, she doesn’t hook up with the customers.”
    “Has she ever hooked up with anybody on staff at Deuces?”
    “Vern says no. Frankly, I got the impression she’s not real popular with her coworkers.”
    Trevor turned back to the monitor. “Doesn’t look like she’s losing any sleep over it.”
    Ian handed him two bottled waters. “I’d say it’s time for her wake-up call.”
    Trevor took his folder and the waters, and with his back to the door, lifted his chin in a salute. “Join in if the mood strikes.” With that, he pushed out the door and, bracing himself for…he couldn’t say exactly what, walked toward the interview room.
    She didn’t stir when he entered, not even when the door swung shut behind him. He sat across from her, placed the water bottles and evidence folder on the table, and cocked an eyebrow at the camera in the corner of the room. A muffled moan pulled his attention back to the sleeping woman.
    “Stacy?”
    She shifted in her sleep, evading some phantom pursuer, and cried, “Don’t…oh, my God!”
    Concerned, he touched her arm, and kept his voice calm. “Shh. You’re dreaming. Wake up.”
    She jerked upright, completely disoriented. Her cheekbone bore a red imprint from her arm. Wide, jumpy eyes flew around the room and finally settled on him.
    He fought an impulse to smooth his hand over her cheek and tell her everything was okay. Everything wasn’t okay. Instead, he cracked open a bottle of water and pushed it toward her. “Bad dream, huh?”
    Rubbing her eyes with the heels of her hands in a way he found strangely endearing, she released a breath and nodded. “Yes. Sorry.”
    “No apologies necessary. I understand. You had an ugly shock this morning.” When she offered a small, pained smile, he cracked the cap on his own bottle of water and got down to business. “I know you’re anxious to find justice for Mr. Long and I appreciate you coming in this afternoon. I have a few additional questions for you, based on information gathered earlier today.” Picking up the remote control for the camera and recorder he added, “Do you mind if we record this?”
    She licked her lips and shook her head. “Obviously, I want to do what I can, but I warn you, I don’t have anything new to add to what I told