Dressed, Vivian had followed the group to the View; there she had refilled her coffee, gulped it down and had refilled it again. It did not take long for the sheriff to find and demand their presence in the conference room and though he was compassionate towards her, Vivian felt as if she were a suspect.<br/><br/>Slouching in a comfortable chair, her tears for the moment at bay as she held the coffee mug with both her hands, the doctor looked around at her companions and wondered why it had all happened to her. “Damn, I need to call Cynthia’s brother,” she murmured, he the only one who knew of the two’s relationship in her lover’s family.<br/><br/>She remained quiet, sipping from the black gold, allowing the well-muscled man, Blake she thought was his name, give his spiel about how they could not possibly be the murderers the sheriff was seeking. Unfortunately for her, she resembled two of the three, so her rational mind thought, motive and opportunity. She was here in the hotel and was very familiar with at least the second victim.