Brandy flashed her badge to the desk clerk at the fitness center. “I’d like to see your sign-in records for the last month.”
The woman looked at the badge and then back at Brandy with a frown. She was an older woman in her later forties, and her age showed around her eyes. Her dark hair was pulled back in a regulation bun with the odd greying hair at the temples. “Do you have a warrant?” She asked.
“No.”
“Come back when you have one.” The clerk said returning to her business.
Justin leaned forward before Brandy could speak and he offered the clerk the easy flirtatious smile the men of his family were famous for. “Kim,” he addressed her by the name on the tag she wore, “my name is Justin. I’m a journalist, and I’m working in cooperation with the local MP’s to solve some rather disturbin
