Going To The Chapel

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Where: Corinthian Casino - Chapel

When: July 22nd 2012

What: Bailey finds herself with a dead groom on her hands and a distraught bride with legs all the way up to Canada.

The music strains against the door, almost visually spilling forth when the doors to the chapel down the hall open and spill forth a pair of lovers, now legally wed in the State of Nevada. How many has Bailey seen do this walk? Off to catch the limo included in their package deal to celebrate somewhere else before returning to the Corinthian? Fluffy white, the bride almost like a living cupcake with her vintage blue ruffled tux clad husband emerges and leave in their wake the noise and jubilation of another Mr & Mrs. And means, that there's fifteen minutes before the next pair are to be wed in the lavish chapel here and it's Bailey's job to go notify them.

Smoothing out her little uniformed outfit, Bailey takes a deep breath in as she watches the newest couple step toward their limo. The breath is released and she puts on a giant smile. After all, happy couples want a happy face to help them, right? Stepping back through the doors, her heels make a slight clickity-clack sound as she walks down the hall. Checking the list of names, she looks about to find the proper couple. "Brad and Janet? Brad…and Janet? Wedding for Brad and Janet, in just under fifteen minutes."

It's not a skirt slip woman who's in the brides room, but a gaggle of women in sequin mini's and the bride in an equally sequined white mini dress and veil longer than the hemline. Only in Vegas. They are ready it seems, but it's in the grooms room, just outide the door slips a tall man in a tux, dark hair falling over his brow, sweat beaded on his forehead as he closes the door behind him with some Finality.

Peeking her head into the brides room, Bailey calls to the women, "Bridesmaids? Places! We wanna make this the best Vegas wedding of the CENTURY! C'mon, girls!" Her smile as wide as ever. "Janet, you look…fabulous!" Turning away from the women, she rolls her eyes. It's not long before she bumps into the groom-to-be-husband, standing outside his door. "Brad? Why so serious?" She places an encouraging hand gently on his arm. "Oh Brad, don't go mad with worry! I just saw your soon to be wife. And boy, let me tell ya!" She lets out a little huff of air, sounding impressed. "She is smokin'. She's gorgeous! You're a lucky guy!"

"Isn't she?" He's nervous, looking to Bailey before starting to head toward the Chapel proper. "Legs all the way to Canada. Wouldn't believe my luck I tell you" And with that, he's no longer looking over his shoulder, seeming more confidant by the seconds.

And there's a thump, from the Grooms room, that he was in.

"To Canada's right! But you know what they say, 'A woman with legs so long can last in…'" Bailey doesn't get to complete that thought. "You get on to the chapel, Brad. Janet'll be there before long." Making way to the very close groom's room, she slowly starts to open the door, expecting to see maybe a chair fallen over or some such. Or maybe a groomsman who was unaware that the groom was nearing the actual chapel.

Brads walking off and soon out of sight. But as the door opens, it's not so much a fallen chair that greets her but it is instead a man, jerking on the ground, eyes rolled up into the back of his head and foaming at the mouth. Beside him, an empty syringe. A man in the throes of a medical emergency.

"Oh…god." Bailey rushes to him. "Just when the sluttiest bride is about to come up. They're always the funniest to watch!" She mutters quickly to herself before shouting, "HELP! SOMEONE CALL AN AMBULANCE!" She quickly finds a pillow to move under the man's head. "Sir?! Sir! Stay with me!" She makes attempts to steady his body. "Don't you go super-OD on me!" She sighs. "IS SOMEBODY CALLING THAT AMBULANCE?!" She calls out again.

There's a few people who work the chapel, and someone shoves their head in to see what the fuss is. eyes widen at the sight of the man and Bailey before grabbing a walkie from their belt and starting to usher off orders to people on the other end. The jerking stops, the man ceasing in his movements and stills.

Slapping the man on his cheeks lightly, Bailey speaks loudly, yet not quite shouting, "Hey! Can you hear me?!" She leans in, near his mouth, to listen as to whether or not he's breathing. At the same time, she watches his stomach and chest to see if they rise and fall. "Don't die on me…don't you dare die." She says in a soft, almost annoyed tone.

No pulse, no breath, nothing. Just a man in an expensive suit, on the floor of the Grooms room.

And a scream at the door as the sequined Bride looks in. "Brad!" The rest of her party peeking in like some comically noir scooby gang.
"Oh nooo." Bailey bemoans, partly at the death of the man and partly at the bride seeing the dead body. Pushing herself up, she steps over to the entrance of the room, where the bride stands. "Miss? Do you know that man?" She asks, her voice hinting with attitude. It's not exactly her job to ask, of course. But he was in her husband-to-be's room.

"It's her FInacee you fucking idiot!" Comes incredulously from one of the bridesmaids even as the shrieking blonde bride is shoving her way past people to fall down beside her was-to-be husband. Security is bearing down the hall in their suits and ear pieces, the bridesmaids being ushered to the brides room and the promise of ambulance on it's way. And the bride remains hysterical beside what seems to be the groom.

"He's…" Bailey eyes the bridesmaid. "She's the one wearing a dress that looks like it's meant to be in a disco hall and I'm the fuckin' idiot." She huffs. "Get outta my way." She forces herself through the group. "Did anyone see where a very sweaty guy went?" She yells, starting to rush in the direction he was last heading in, seeing if she can't catch a glimps of him.

Nothing. No one knows who she is talking about, and there doesn't seem to be anyone who looks like the guy that she saw, hanging about. The 'Groom' seems to have disappeared from sight and even as paramedics barrel down the hall towards the room with the dead or already dying man, security is already approaching Bailey.

"God damn it! Where'd he GO!" Bailey growls as she quickly heads out the front door, looking all around. Her clenched fists illuminate a little bit as she fumes. "A murderer. Right under my fuckin' nose. And I had to be with the guy when he died! Next thing I know, Linderman'll be wanting to talk to me himself!" Stomping angrily back into the casino and toward the chapel, she takes a few, calculated and deep breaths, calming herself enough to at least cause her hands to not be lit up, even in the slightest.

Linderman likely will not be dealing with Bailey and come the light of day - the sun, and not her - She'll still have a job. But there's a woman less a bride and another case to be heaped upon the desk of Detective Terri Willett and all weddings for the rest of the night and the next day, rescheduled or refunded.


Somewhere later that night


The tall dark haired, tuxedo wearing individual closes a door behind him, leaning against it, nearly sagging. The bow tie undone and left hanging around his neck, he swallows hard, throwing the locks closed on his door and moves in. Past a small fridge with it's little vials, the boxes of syringes. His jacket tossed to the back of a chair before he eases down into, looking at the wall that it faces.

A myriad of people look back at him. Some smiling, some not. He reaches up to a picture of Brad, the felled groom, hesitating as he does. But then unpins it, tearing it in half and tossing it to the floor.

"Better this way" He tells himself, even as he looks down to his hands, squeezing them shut then relaxing them. "It'll be better for her" And he stands again, moving over to a mattress set on a platform and sinks down, then lays back.


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