In this strange place, this Vegas he didn't choose to visit, John felt an awkward tingle creep up his spine when his companion said those names. How did she know Mary, and her parents? That didn't sit well with John, and his discomfort likely showed in his face for a few seconds before he schooled his expression.
"Mary Campbell is my girl, Samuel and Deanna are her parents." His voice sounded flat, even to his own ears. "What do you know of them?" he asked. He couldn't shake the tingling feeling, the sixth sense that something was not right here.
"Who are you?" John demanded. Not that a name would necessarily mean anything to him, but he needed to know what was going on here.