An Unconventional Murder by Kenneth L. Levinson

sweatshirt who had approached him after his presentation. The muscular young man,
whom Upton judged to be in his early twenties, had also attended the agent presentation--sitting
only a few seats away from the dead man.
    "Did you notice the body?"
    "Yeah, I did, but I didn't think anything of it. I'm not into mysteries."
    Upton shrugged. "Everyone to his own taste. What's your name?"
    "Brady Cameron."
    "Interesting," Upton said. "One of our speakers this year is Mitch Cameron. I don't
suppose..."
    "I know. That asshole is my father."
    Upton was alarmed by the guttural ferocity of the young man's response. Suddenly he
seemed wild-eyed and dangerous. "Your father?"
    "Yeah. At least, in theory. He divorced my mom six years ago. Dumped her flat on her
ass. For another woman. I haven't heard from him in over three years."
    "Does he know you're here?"
    "If he does, he sure as hell didn't hear about it from me." He squared off aggressively, his
eyes boring into Upton's. "Why are you asking me all of these questions?"
    Upton smiled. "As I told you, I'm the President of the CFWA. We're always looking for
new members. I hope you'll decide to join us."
    Brady Cameron stared at Upton. "You know, I just might. I just might at that."
    * * * *
    Fifteen minutes later, Upton was sprawled across the green captain's chair in the
honeymoon suite, studying the notes he had made. Real police work required him to question
more than just the paltry sampling of people he had interviewed. The problem was, they were all
starting to look alike. On three separate occasions, he began posing his questions to someone,
only to be reminded they had already had that discussion with him.
    He had concluded that any further effort would be a waste of time. Not to mention
embarrassing. There must be a better way to find out who the dead man was. As Upton mulled
his options, he heard the sound of someone jiggling the door handle. Thinking of the missing
stiletto, he suddenly felt trapped--and helpless. He leapt to his feet, looking frantically around the
room for something he could use as a weapon. Nothing. There might be something in the
kitchenette. He pawed through the drawers until he found a paring knife.
    It would have to do.
    Someone had entered the suite.
    He moved stealthfully back through the breakfast nook, practically holding his breath as
footsteps crossed the living room.
    Then they stopped.
    He lurched around the corner, hoping to catch the intruder by surprise.
    He did. Rena Oberhaus was bent over in front of the television set, reaching for the
remote. She shrieked. "What--what are you doing?"
    "What am I doing?" he asked blankly. Realizing that he probably looked like a madman,
he lowered his arm self-consciously. "Oh. Sorry. I heard noises. I guess I'm kind of jittery."
    "Evidently," she said. "You scared the hell out of me!"
    "I'm sorry, Rena. I didn't mean to frighten you."
    "Well, you certainly managed to." She pointed toward his hand. "What did you think you
were going to do with a paring knife?"
    He shrugged sheepishly. "I don't know. It was all I could find. What are you doing
here?"
    "I needed a place to think."
    "Me, too," he said. "Would you rather be alone?"
    "No. Although I'd appreciate you putting that knife back where it belongs."
    "Will do." He crossed toward the kitchen and returned the knife to the drawer where he
had found it.
    Rena had turned on the TV. "I came back for an update. They're telling people to stay
home unless it's an emergency."
    "That means we're really stuck here," Upton commented.
    "I guess so. DIA is still closed. There's also some maniac holding people at the Heritage
Center. They say he's already killed a couple of hostages."
    Upton felt a sick feeling in his stomach as he watched the ticker move along the bottom
of the screen.
    Four dead in Colorado hostage crisis.
    "How awful!" Rena said. "Those poor people!"
    "Now I understand why Cameron can't get any backup." He grimaced. "I went through
one of those