LeMar Ridley returned to his hotel room at 2:30 a.m, feeling full, a little drunk, and jubilant. It had been an eventful night for him, too, he reflected smugly. Heartthrobs performance had lived up to expectations, and he was sure the next days papers would be full of praise for his fledgling band (or so he thought of them). The contracts for their tour were all signed, sealed, and delivered. He could afford to rest and relax for a few days.

So he had treated himself to a lobster dinner before the show. He had snooped around during the show, picking up comments, as well as gossip. One couldnt be too careful in this business. He had eavesdropped on the conversations between Nicole, Terry, and Alex and knew that Terry had offered a spot to Alex on the tour. So much the better, he thought. A little more star power wont hurt at all. He would have to talk with Terry about Alexs salary.

They could offer Alex a smaller than normal cut. Hell, he sounded pretty desperate to LeMar. LeMar chuckled when he remembered the trick he had pulled on Alex, sending a bogus band on the road. Sometimes he got caught in his deceptions, and sometimes not. Ridley had been caught, but his lawyers had gotten him off cheap. He could afford better legal advice than Alex could at the time, and he knew it.

Well, musicians were just out to screw him anyway, he thought defensively. Ridley had always prided himself on being one step ahead of musicians, which wasnt too difficult. On the other hand, he had to give grudging respect to Nicole and Terry. They were pretty sharp. New generation, he thought. Theyre smarter and are quicker to seek legal advice than musicians of days past. Terry and Nicole treated him with respect. Saavy kids...and he would reward them. There were few people Ridley actually liked, but he did like Terry and Nicole.

Yawning, Ridley decided to turn in. It had been a long day, and he wasnt getting any younger. His work here was done for the moment, and he planned on sleeping in late the next day. There would be plenty of time to check with his main office in Minneapolis to see if anything earthshaking had happened in the past few days. He hadnt received any faxes or frantic phone calls, so he assumed that Dan Holiday, his partner, had things under control.

He also made a mental note to check with Robert Pierce to make sure he was doing his lead work for the next stop on the tour. Terry insisted on handling Robert Pierce, which was fine with Ridley. Pierce was everything Ridley was not: a college graduate, an MBA; tall, dark, handsome and as smooth as they come. He also had an earnestness that permeated his business dealings, making people both respect and cooperate with him. Still, Ridley was drawn to Pierce.

Ridley yawned, and suddenly realized he was totally exhausted. He tried to think of what he had to do first thing in the morning, but his exhaustion took over. He finally gave up and settled in, actually looking forward to his sleep. For once he was too tired to think of the night terrors he had suffered with since childhood. He wore his plaid pajamas that made him feel as secure as when he was a child. He never understood the reasons why.

No sooner had he turned out the light than he was snoring so loudly that the couple in the room next door put earplugs in, which would eliminate their usefulness in helping to recreate what came next.

The doorknob to Ridleys door started turning slowly, as if Alfred Hitchcock himself were filming a sequence from inside of the bedroom. Moonlight played over the face of the sleeping man; his seesaw snores punctuating the silence of the night.

The figure sucked in a calming breath; emotions seething at the sight of the prone figure. Slipping the door shut without mishap, the intruder turned full attention on Ridley, criminal intent narrowing angry eyes. What a vulgar man he is. Rage for this callous man filled the killers mind.

Ridley gave a little dream groan, and suddenly flopped on to his opposite side. The intruder jumped, breath coming in painful rasps, heart palpitating, body tensed for quick flight. But Ridley lapsed again into his rhythmic snoring and gave a contented sigh.

It really was disgusting, the figure leaning over his bed thought. How could anyone with the scruples of a snake sleep so soundly? Ill be ridding the world of a parasite of the first degree, the killer thought with satisfaction.

The figure in black bent a little closer, aiming the Sig Sauer .38 automatic weapon directly into Ridleys skull on the left side, using the pillow he had knocked to the floor to silence the shot. The killer heard a pop, and then blood splattered on the pillow against Ridleys head. Death was instantaneous. The killer turned to flee out the door.

Suddenly there was a sound in the hallway. The killer gasped, startled by the sound, heart pounding. Who was that in the hallway, and had they heard the sound? But the couple sounded tipsy. The womans laughter cooed in the back of her throat, like a mourning dove clucking over her babies. The man murmured something which made the woman shriek out loud. They shushed each other and passed by the door tittering.

The killer gasped and let out a sigh of relief. The figure in black crept towards the door, cocking an ear to listen for any more potential witnesses. After standing silent in the room which had now become a temporary morgue, the killer slowly pushed the door handle with gloved hands and slipped out into the night.