A/N: Good morning lovely people! Hello and welcome. I read the last chapter through on the net about an hour ago because I couldn't remember if I'd left you guys on a cliffie, and I think I did. So, because I am as lovely as you I'm not gonna keep you waiting too long because I hate cliffie's with a passion! Dah! And when I reread it, I thought, 'the Bellano's a real hotel in Las Vegas.' Because I did change the names over, because if someone wrote in their story that someone was killed at my address I'd be pretty peed off about it, so I changed them. And Bellano is not a hotel in Las Vegas, I was thinking of the Bellagio which is a great hotel, although I never went in, so all's well that ends well. And even now I'm stopping you guys from reading, so I'm gonna quit my consistent waffling about nothing and get on with the story!

Thank you to my reviewers, you know who you are, I wouldn't dream of putting your names up here and embarrasing you! Hehe, gives an evil grin.

Chapter Eight: Any enemies?

Mere seconds later people on the ground floor noticed what was happening, and workers at the Bellano hotel found a stepladder before anyone could have said 'Simone.' Clementine was being helped down, pulling the line from around her neck, shaking like a leaf and crying a river. Mort was pushing his way down the stairs to get to her, finally, he did.

"Oh my God, Clementine." And that was all they said for minutes, crying into eachothers arms.

"Are you ok?"

"You scared me to death! Are you alright?"

"Who the hell would do something like that?"

"Oh, I think I have a pretty good idea," whispers Mort into Clementine's ear. "Are you really sure you're alright?" She nods. Before anyone could make more fuss Mort led Clementine out of the hotel, helped by the man with the penknife.

"Will you be ok from here?" he asks. Clementine nods and thanks him for his help.

"Thanks," thanks Mort, taking Clementine back to the Silver Sunset, leaning on him all the way.

"It'll be all over the papers tomorrow, we can get that Simone put away," says Mort.

"Mort, I didn't see anything," Clementine whimpers, "We can't prove anything."

"She was in that hotel, and that's enough for me. Do you want to get a flight out of here tonight?" Clementine shakes her head as they reach the Silver Sunset. As soon as they get there people approach them.

"Are you alright?"

"Did it really happen?"

"Can we just, make our way to our room, please?" asks Mort as he tries to advance closer to the room amid the people concerned for his wife. "We just want to be alone for a while, but thank you for your concern."

And they do get to the room. Mort lays Clementine down on the bed, still sobbing, patches over her pale top and straggly hair.

"Lets see your neck," he says, gently putting a hand by her throat.

"No, if anything hurts its my arm, catching that ledge, the wire didn't touch my throat at all," explains Clementine.

"Do you think it's broken? Sprained?"

"No, just stretched," she smiles. Then it fades. "If it was her, do you think Shooter was inside her?"

"Shhh, sleep babe, sleep," says Mort, cradling her in his arms.

"I want to get changed first," she says, sitting up and attempting to stand but failing, her legs weak.

"Come on, I'll help you," says Mort, crouching by the side of the bed and undoing her trainers. He helps her into the bathroom where she changes and gets ready for bed.

Mort had been right, it was all over the papers the next morning and police were banging at their hotel room door at half past eight the next morning.

"Yes, Simone, I don't know her, I signed a book for her at the airport, and then, we bumped into her at the hotel, I played a bit of Blackjack with her, we split the money, and um. . . she was at the booksigning we came to do, waited for me afterwards and said that, er, that she was with me mentally but she wanted to be with my physically, or something like that," Mort explains to the police.

"But she never threatened Mrs. Rainey? Or, took much notice of her, friendly or otherwise?"

"No."

"Well, we'll see if we can find a Simone staying at the hotel, although I won't be surprised if she's gone," says the cop. "Are you staying in Las Vegas?"

"No, we're flying home today, back to Tashmore," says Mort.

"We'd prefer it if you didn't," says the cop.

"We just want to get out of here," Clementine says, throwing clothes into a suitcase.

"No, Mrs. Rainey, we'd prefer it if you stayed in Las Vegas," repeats the cop.

"I'm sure the Bellano would offer you a complimentary suite for however many nights you wished to stay," he says.

"Well, we don't want to stay any nights, at any hotel, especially not the Bellano," says Clementine.

"We'd prefer it if you didn't leave town," the cop says, and leaves.

"Better unpack the suitcase, we could be here a while," says Mort, Clementine begins to sob.

"I don't want to stay! Why can't they just let us go home?" Mort takes her in his arms, rubbing her back.

"They're cops, they can do whatever they want. Honey, we're gonna get this sorted out, ok? Come on, we don't have to go out anywhere." Clementine wipes her eyes.

"Alright."