Sequestered with the Murderers

jokes, and his deliverance was impeccable. I had estimated his age to be between the mid to late fifties.
At 10:55 pm, an hour after Duffy’s body was found, three troopers, Jackson, and Carter came onto the bus. Jackson was very consoling as he provided information to us.
“Brightness family, as you’ve heard, Duffy has been found murdered in the maintenance room. I know you all are feeling sadness as Carter, Lemmonee, and I are. The state police will find out who did this horrific thing. I apologize profusely to you for having to be sequestered on the bus for so long. Many of you who have traveled with us before know nothing like this has ever happened before to Brightness. Please be patient a little longer as the troopers need to question each of you. Once they are finished with their questioning, Carter will drive you to your drop-off locations. The troopers want me to mention that they will probably need to speak to all of you again at a later date. So please be cooperative. I thank you for your understanding and patience. I promise to keep you all in the loop with the information I am allowed to share.”
Jackson cleared his throat and then handed the microphone to one of the troopers, who introduced himself as Trooper Dryden’s Sergeant and told us what information they needed from us. The three of them then divided themselves among the passengers in sections: one began questioning passengers at the front of the bus, one in the middle, and Trooper Dryden’s Sergeant began at the rear. Jackson had brought with him several copies of the passenger manifest and gave one to each trooper before they started their questioning. Jackson and Carter stood patiently at the front of the bus.
Since I was sitting at the front of the bus with Lemmonee, we were one of the firsts to be questioned. The trooper asked the same questions to both of us, and our answers were the same:
Where were you when you realized your bus driver was missing? Answer: Standing alongside the bus.
Did you see or hear anything strange or out of the ordinary while using the restroom, walking to the restroom, outside around the restroom, or walking back to the bus? Answer: No.
Do you know who committed Duffton Radley’s death? Answer: No.
Is there anything you can tell me regarding Duffton Radley’s death? Answer: No. There is nothing to disclose.
After the trooper had moved a couple of rows away from us, I heard Jackson and Carter whispering.
Jackson whispered, “Duffy’s body was riddled with gunshots. Who would do that to him?”
“I don’t know,” Carter whispered back. “Poor Nancy. What are you going to tell her?”
“Nothing like this has ever happened before to Brightness in the thirty-three years we’ve been in business. I don’t know how to handle this,” Jackson whispered.
“Neither do I,” Carter replied.
They abruptly stopped whispering. I assumed they realized their whispering was not as quiet as they thought and that Lemmonee and I heard every word they said. They saw the stares of annoyance on our faces. Now was not the time to talk about their shortcomings. Making the passengers feel safe and secure was what was most important.
An hour later, we were on our way home with Carter in the driver’s seat. Danville was the last drop off location. We arrived there at 3:25 am. The Purples dragged their luggage and dreary tired bodies to their vehicles and drove off the parking lot. We were too tired to assemble for even a few minutes to discuss the reason for our being sequestered—murder.

CHAPTER 2
When I walked into my home, I was too tired to share the night’s final events with my husband, Gam. I had called him three times with updates while sequestered. When I awoke at 9:00 am, he had already left for his Saturday morning workout at the sheriff’s gym. I had slept past my 6:00 am treadmill workout session without once waking up and dozing back to sleep.
Out of nowhere Serenity Bed, Breakfast and Dinner popped into my mind. I would be there one week from today’s date, April 8, 2006, surrounded in chocolates, sparkling wine, and home-cooked breakfasts and dinners with Gam for three days. Gam’s job, a Pittsylvania County Sheriff Detective, had kept him busy on most weekends since January. When he told me a month ago, he had put in to be off on my fifty-fourth birthday weekend, and where he was taking me, I was elated. I felt no joy now. Desolation slowly overcame me.
Last night was a wretched affair. For what reason would someone murder a man and leave his body in the maintenance room, I wondered.
“Snap out of it. You can’t solve all the ills of the world,” I said out loud.
I jumped out of bed, headed to take a shower, but the nagging question I had while the troopers questioned us last night and on the way home surfaced again—why didn’t any of us passengers hear the gun shots? Jackson had said Duffy’s body was riddled with gunshots. Was it really just several gunshots, as Carter had said, or were there more? The way Jackson used the word “riddled” conjured up more than several in my mind.
I had seen the crime scene, somewhat. The body was inside the maintenance room. The officers on both sides of the door blocked my view into the room. The bus was parked on the northern end of the building. Nevertheless, we should have heard the gunshots or something similar to a car backfiring.
The rest area building was the typical Virginia rest area small structure with three alcoves in the front; it was not a full-service plaza. It had two public restrooms, one for men and one for women, a maintenance room, a picnic/grill area, trash receptacles in the picnic area, and pay telephones and vendors machines on the outside front of the building. The parking lot was not huge, nor did it need to be.
I