Styles was really wishing they'd accepted Truth's offer of the egg salad sandwich lunch special. The tacos he and Cena had gotten from a truck vendor weren't resting comfortably in his stomach. Especially when he thought about having to deal with the sleazebag named Val Venus.

He grunted as Cena parked the car in front of a building with a sign written in bright purple calligraphy "Venus Photography and Modeling". As he got out of the car, Styles grumbled, "I'm gonna need a shower after this."

Cena half-smiled but didn't disagree.

"Remind me to call my wife as soon as we leave," Styles said as he waited for Cena to join him on the sidewalk. "My mother-in-law is visiting, and I wouldn't put it past the old bat to have someone keeping an eye on me. She'd just love to tell my wife that I was in this place."

"Duly noted," Cena nodded.

Inside the building, the business manager narrowed her eyes as she watched the monitor showing the feed from the security camera in front of the building. She quickly walked to the adjoining office.

"Excuse me," Vickie Guerrero said. "Two men are coming to the door. Pretty sure they're cops."

Val Venus nodded and stood, cell phone to his ear. "Understood, sir. We've about to have those visitors now. I'll call you when they leave." Disconnecting the call, he walked out of the office through a second door. "Make an announcement that I want everyone, no exception, in the conference room NOW," he said over his shoulder. "Give me five minutes."

"You got it, boss." Vickie turned and activated the intercom. "Everyone to the conference room NOW." She hung up the phone just as the front door opened. She pasted a smile on her face and greeted the visitors. "Good afternoon, gentlemen. Welcome to Venus Photography and Modeling. I'm Vickie. How can I help you?"

"I'm Detective Cena, and this is Detective Styles. We'd like to see Mr. Venus. Is he available, Ms…." Cena spoke as both detectives produced their badges.

"Guerrero," Vickie softly replied, leaning against the counter to study their badges. "Mr. Venus is in a conference right now making final arrangements for a photo shoot." She glanced at the clock on the wall behind her. "But he should be wrapping it up about now. Let me call and find out."

Vickie picked up a phone receiver and punched a button. "Excuse me, Mr. Venus. But there are two police detectives here to see you. Yes, sir, I will." She hung up the phone and smiled at the detectives. "He'll be right here. Would either of you like some coffee or pastries?" She waved a hand towards a table sitting next to one wall. "Or I could get you some tea or water if you prefer."

"No, thank you," Cena politely replied.

Less than a minute later, Val entered the reception room and smiled. "Gentlemen, I'm Val Venus. What seems to be the problem?"

Cena and Styles again produced their badges and introduced themselves. "We're here to verify a couple of alibis in order to exclude two men from our investigation. They claim they were attending a party at your house last night."

Val nodded. "Yeah, I threw a party last night to celebrate landing a nice contract. I told my employees they could each invite some friends if they wanted."

Styles handed him pictures of Bo Dallas and Curtis Axel, and Val studied them. "There were a lot of people coming and going. I might have seen this one, but I can't say for sure." He tapped Dallas' picture then looked at Vickie. "You were there for a little while. Either of them look familiar?"

Vickie looked at the photos then shook her head. "Sorry, but like Mr. Venus said. I left early. My daughter's in town, and I wanted to spend time with her and my son-in-law."

"Could we speak with your employees who were at this party?" Cena asked.

Val shrugged. "Sure. Follow me." He led them down a hallway to a large room where a large blue screen was illuminated by several bright lights. A tall slender dark-skinned man was focused on setting up a camera on a tripod. "Dream, got a minute?"

The man turned around and stared at them over the top of his tinted glasses. "The Dream is busy."

Val repressed a smile. "Detectives, this is my photographer who goes by the name of Velveteen Dream. Dream, these are Detectives Styles and Cena. They need to ask you some questions."

"What's your real name?" Styles bluntly asked.

"The Dream has no knowledge of any previous existence," Dream denied.

Styles glared at Val who murmured, "Vickie will get it for you."

"We understand you were at a party at Mr. Venus' last night." Cena held out the pictures of Dallas and Axel.

"The Dream would be mortified to have taken such pictures," Dream arrogantly scoffed. He pointed one long finger at Dallas' photo. "He was following Summer around like a lost puppy. The Dream doesn't remember the other one."

"Do you remember what time you saw him?" Cena asked.

"Time has no meaning to the Dream."

"Thank you." Cena turned to Venus looked at Dream. "Do you know where the girls are?"

"The Dream saw them in the lounge, trying to make themselves presentable."

"Thanks, Dream." Val nodded to the left of the large room. As they walked away, Dream returned to setting up his cameras. "He's a genius with a camera but can be a genuine ass sometimes."

"Sometimes?" Styles sourly muttered.

Val chuckled as he led them down another hallway. "My models alternately love him and hate him. And on some days, they do both at the same time." He stopped in front of a closed door, then knocked. Opening it slightly, he called out, "Hello, ladies. Are you decent for visitors?"

A chorus of 'yes' and 'hi Val' drifted through the half-open doorway. Val then opened the door and motioned for the detectives to enter. "Ladies, this is Detective Cena and Detective Styles. They need to ask you some questions about the party last night. Gentlemen, this is Summer Rae."

Summer tossed her long blonde hair behind her and smiled flirtatiously at Cena.

"Paige."

The pale-skinned black-haired woman barely glanced up at them before returning her attention to filing her nails.

"Sasha Banks."

'Who the hell has blue hair?' Styles thought as the woman glanced up at them with a half-smile then returned to watching Paige file her nails.

"Cameron."

Cameron managed to stare at them for a couple of seconds before nodding. She concentrated on painting her nails a gold color.

"Rosa Mendes."

Rosa paused in mid-stretch to smile at them, a pose that caused Styles to quickly remind himself he was a happily married man.

"And last, but certainly not least, Sable."

An older yet beautiful woman smiled at them from where she lounged by herself on a comfortable-looking sofa.

"Dream handles the photography, but Sable makes it possible," Val explained with a smile. "She handles the costuming, props, catering…all the background stuff that makes for a successful photo shoot. Just don't tell Dream that."

Sable's sultry smile widened.

Cena turned to Summer Rae. "Do you know this man?"

Summer looked at Dallas' picture. "Sure, that's Bo." She turned her eyes to Cena. "He's not in any trouble, is he? Bo's a good soul."

"He's an idiot," Paige said, eyes on her nail file.

"He is not!" Summer angrily glared at the other woman. "He may not be as smart as some people, but he's got a good heart."

"And a good soul," Paige mockingly replied.

"Ladies," Val warned.

"Were you with him last night?" Cena asked.

Paige snorted. "Yeah, we'd all like to know that."

"Gutter snipe," Summer angrily hissed.

"Bubble head," Paige calmly replied.

"Girls!" Sable snapped.

Summer flipped her long blonde hair in Paige's direction, then looked up at Cena. "He was at the party last night. At Val's house." She glared at Paige. "I invited him."

"How do you know him?" Styles asked.

"I met him at one of the clubs downtown. Called Nexus," Summer explained. "He was sitting there, just watching everybody. He looked like he wanted to be a part of the scene. You know, dancing and having fun. But I don't think he knew how or is just really shy."

Paige started to say something but stopped when Sable cleared her throat.

"Anyway, I encouraged him to get out on the dance floor; and we became friends," Summer continued. "When Val said we could invite friends to the party, I invited Bo. He asked if he could bring his friend. Curt somebody." She looked sad. "I think the two of us are his only friends."

"That would be this man?" Styles held out Axel's photo.

Summer nodded. "Yeah, that's him."

Styles showed the photo to the other women. "Any of you remember seeing him?"

Rosa stopped her stretching and stood upright. "I do. He was with a bunch of us who spent most of the party out back in the pool."

"Do you remember when they arrived? Or left?" Styles continued.

Summer laughed. "The party began at 8pm. They showed up about 8:30pm. Bo was so excited about being there. The last time I saw him was about 1:30 in the morning. Curt…whoever came and got him. Said they needed to go because they had some meeting early the next morning."

Rosa shrugged. "There isn't a clock by the pool. I can't say for certain when Curtis left, but I know a couple of people left around midnight and it was after that."

Cena exchanged a quick look with Styles who nodded. "Thank you, ladies. Could you possibly come to the station later today or tomorrow and formally make a statement as to what you've told us?"

Both Summer and Rosa nodded.

"Always glad to help law enforcement," Val smiled. As they followed him out, he said over his shoulder, "Vickie will give you Dream's legal name. To be honest, I've forgotten it."

Styles rolled his eyes.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The first thing Styles did when he got into the car was search in the glove compartment for the small bottle of hand sanitizer that he knew Cena kept in there.

Cena smiled but said nothing as he felt his phone vibrate. Taking it out, he quickly read the message then returned the phone to his pocket. "Call you wife," he reminded Styles as he put the key into the ignition. "And your shower will have to wait. Dr. Maverick messaged me. Mizanin's widow can speak with us now."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Once the detectives had driven off, Val walked back into his office and sat behind his desk. He pulled out the cell phone he used when he did his most discrete business and dialed a number. When the call was answered, he quietly spoke. "The cops just left. Everything went perfectly. Just as you ordered." He listened to the response, absently nodding his head. "I'll see to it immediately." As the call was disconnected, he placed the cell phone in a small hidden safe then returned to his desk.

He then picked up his desk phone and activated the intercom. "Everyone, thank you for your cooperation. There will be a bonus in this week's pay for your efforts. Sasha, please see me in my office." He replaced the phone and leaned back in his chair with a smile. Apparently, he was going to get a bonus as well.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Don't drag this out, gentlemen, and have the courtesy of remembering you're dealing with a pregnant woman," Dr. Drake Maverick snapped over his shoulder as he led them to the lounge area where Maryse was waiting.

"We'll do our best," Styles drawled.

"See that you do!" Maverick hissed. Then he smiled as they entered the room. "Maryse, these are Detectives Cena and Styles. Gentlemen, Maryse Mizanin."

Maryse held out her hand although she remained seated in an overstuffed chair.

"Our sincere condolences, Mrs. Mizanin," Styles gently spoke as he shook her hand.

"Thank you," Maryse softly replied. "Please have a seat."

The two detectives sat on the sofa while Maverick stood close to Maryse's chair. "We hate to intrude on your grief, ma'am, but we do have some questions to ask," Styles apologized.

"I understand," Maryse nodded. "But I don't know anything about Mike's business. He never brought business home. In fact, we never even entertained any of his clients here. He said he wanted our home to be ours and not an extension of his business." She looked down at her hands which were clasped in her lap. "We would rent out a room at a restaurant for any of that entertaining."

"He never spoke about any problems at work?" Styles gently probed.

Maryse shook her head. "I only remember two times that he talked about work. One was when he was successful in getting the properties where the new hotel and casino are. He worked so hard on that project and was so proud he'd succeeded." She raised her head. "My husband was a good man and a good provider."

"I understand," Styles nodded. "And you're right to be proud of him." He hesitated then continued, "And the other time?"

Maryse hesitated. "It was a personal matter…with his partner. John had been seeing this woman for a while…years, I think. She wanted marriage and a family, but John wasn't ready to settle down. So, she left him. He began drinking. I guess pretty heavily although Mike never said anything that specific. He told me that John was going to get better, but that he would be working both his clients and John's for a while." She straightened her shoulders. "Mike didn't lose one single client during that time."

"We're truly sorry for your loss, Mrs. Mizanin." Styles glanced at Cena who shook his head. "And we apologize again for the intrusion." As he stood, Maryse held out her hand to him again. "Is there anything we can do for you?"

Maryse shook her head. "I'm taking things one small step at a time." She fondly glanced at Maverick. "And Dr. Maverick is taking good care of me and the baby."

Styles managed not to grunt when Maverick preened at her praise.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Seth Rollins entered the bookstore with a relieved sigh. Behind the counter, Bayley impishly grinned. "Rough day?"

"Lawyers and contractors," Seth muttered. "The good news is everything is on schedule for the deli and the study hall. The bad news is I've got the headache from hell."

"Go upstairs and take something for it. Eat something light and get some fluids in you. Things are fine here. Finn's inventorying the shipment we got today. If we need you, we'll call you on your cell." As Bayley was talking, she was herding him towards a door in the hallway. She opened it to reveal steps leading to the apartments above the bookstore. "Go. Shoo!"

Seth wearily smiled and started climbing the steps. "Thanks, Bayley."

Upstairs, he tossed the files onto the kitchen table then opened the refrigerator. He found some fruit salad in the refrigerator as well as a bottle of water and brought them to the table. Sitting down he began to eat.

The deli would open in two weeks. The study hall in three. The furniture in the study hall was exactly what he'd suspected it would be. Utilitarian and functional. But it would serve for the time being. Making a decision, he opened one of the files and found a business card. Before he could second guess himself, he dialed the number and waited.

"Leave a message at the tone."

The voice was one Seth remembered. He took a deep breath. "Roman, this is Seth Rollins. From Rollins Bookstore. I hope you remember me. I'd like to find out if the man you said could make the furniture we spoke of would be interested in doing a project for the study hall. Please give me a call at 312-875-4491. Thank you."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Chief of Police Dean Malenko found Cena and Styles at their desks writing up their reports for the day. He put a file down on Cena's desk. "Autopsy report on Mizanin."

Cena opened it and read. Then he glanced at Styles. "Contents in his stomach were a chili dog and fries. Estimated he ate his last meal around 2pm."

"The killer brought the food from Truthful Eats." Styles' eyes narrowed. "Red herring."

"You want to fill me in?" Malenko dryly asked.

"We interviewed the owners of Truthful Eats," Styles explained. "They remembered Mizanin. Always ordered whatever the special of the day was. The leftover food in Mizanin's office was the special of the day on the day he was killed. We got the receipt where someone ordered it at Truthful Eats and paid for it in cash."

"Unfortunately, that was during the evening rush hour; and nobody remembers who ordered and paid for it," Cena added.

"You believe them?" Malenko asked.

Cena slowly nodded. "Yeah, I do. We'll check their backgrounds, but I think they're clean. No reason to kill Mizanin."

Styles snorted. "Worse thing they could say was that he was a cheap tipper."

Malenko nodded. "Get your reports done and call it a day."

Cena watched as Malenko walked away. "The killer picked up that meal at 5:27pm. But the earliest Mizanin was killed was after he placed that call to Axel at 10:20pm. He couldn't have used it as an excuse to get in."

"Red herring," Styles repeated. "Just enough to throw some suspicion on Truthful Eats until the autopsy report proved otherwise." He rubbed his forehead. "I don't think Mizanin let anyone in. I think the killer had a way in. Someone who knew the code to the security alarm or had access to the security company to get it."

"Or someone who'd been there and saw Mizanin or someone else use it," Cena theorized. "That means Mizanin knew his killer and could've let the killer in."

"This just keeps getting better and better," Styles grumbled.

"We do know one thing for sure," Cena said. When Styles looked at him, he continued, "Mizanin stepped on somebody's toes. And that somebody stepped back."