"Do you recognize this guy?" I asked another nurse, my fifth interviewee. I threw in the date as well as the information about the bus crash to help her remember and pinpoint exactly, right down to the hour, whom I was asking about.
"Yeah, I saw him. He was cute and he winked at me."
"Are you sure?" I asked, both pleased and surprised that someone actually recognized Don.
"Yeah, absolutely. Made my day."
"Do you recall how long he was in the waiting room?"
"Let's see... Not long. I saw him before those crash kids came in. I think he went away, and then he came back later. Probably saw how long the wait was."
"You definitely don't remember him sitting and waiting? He was seated just over there," I said, pointing to the vending machine across the room.
"He definitely wasn't waiting. I kind of looked out for him, and he definitely wasn't there. I remember well because after his name was called, I treated him."
"You did? Can you remember what happened?"
"I can't tell you any medical details. That's against hospital policy."
"How about a brief overview?"
The nurse glanced at Alice, who nodded. "He said he twisted his knee earlier that day and was worried he might’ve torn a ligament, but I checked him over and his knee was fine. Not even any swelling. I told him to just take it easy for a couple of days and gave him a prescription for a painkiller. What did he do?"
"I'm not sure yet."
"Is he in trouble?"
"Maybe."
"Then I'm glad I didn't try to get his number. I've had enough bad boys. I'm holding out for a good one."
"I'll keep on the lookout," I promised and she laughed.
"I think you spoke to all the nurses. Can I help you with anything else?" Alice asked.
I thanked her and said no, and we briefly discussed the upcoming family dinner before I left. I walked to my VW, which was parked in the nearest lot. Inside, I set the timer on my phone and drove over to the hotel, parking about a street away. Picking up my phone, I timed the drive, which was twelve minutes, and I made a note that there was light traffic.
Looking over toward the hotel, I watched the increasing hordes of paparazzi filling the sidewalk. They sprang into action any time there was movement around the doors. In the duration that I was parked there, the band didn't make any appearances.
While I watched, I wondered about the surveillance I'd seen, and mentally reconnected the dots I'd joined together. I was sure I caught Don in a lie. The nurse remembering that he left and returned later fully supported my theory. I was reasonably sure Don switched places with someone else in the two minutes his feet temporarily disappeared from the screen. With the rest of his body in a blank spot, and someone else dressed in the same jeans and sneakers, Don could have easily made it appear on the hospital security tapes that he waited in the ER for a few hours. I only saw his face for less than a couple of minutes at the very start and the very end of the footage. Everything in the middle showed only his legs and feet, which could have belonged to anyone. However, proving in court that he actually made a switch might present a problem.
"If security footage can tell lies at the hospital, maybe it can tell the truth at the hotel," I said out loud. I was gazing up at the hotel I no longer had any access to, despite it being full of my ex-boss's staff.
Grabbing my phone, I dialed the private number Lauren gave me. She answered after a couple of rings.
"How's it going?" she asked.
"I've found something interesting," I told her, "but I need your help to verify it."
"Shoot."
"I need to get into the hotel to see the security tapes. Can you help me get access?"
"Why don't you just walk in?"
"Because Solomon's guys are all over the building, and I don't want them to see me."
"Oh, right. I'm still at the hotel. I can get you in."
"Where're Amelia and Shelley?"
"They've gone shopping to get new outfits for interviews."
"What about Joe?"
"He's with them. He and Amelia are being all kissy-kissy. It's gross."
"What about security?"
"Just those two big dudes in front of the elevator. All the other security are downstairs."
"Okay, I need to get into the building and as far as I know, every exit is covered."
"Not the kitchen."
"The kitchen?"
"You know, where they make the food and stuff. I had to get out of the hotel that way yesterday because some fans got through the service doors. No one is guarding the kitchen doors because they only open from the inside. I can let you in that way."
"Okay, I think I know where you mean. Meet you there in ten minutes?"
"Sure, but how do I get away from all the security?"
"Don't worry about them. Just say you're hungry and pitch some kind of diva fit as you storm off. Oh, and scream a lot. If that doesn't scare them, cry. That makes all men uncomfortable."
"Got it."
I got out of the car before losing my nerve and walked away from the hotel, circling back a block later and taking a side road. It led me out of sight of the paparazzi and towards the west side of the employee parking lot that bordered the small garden for hotel residents' use. I had to climb onto a dumpster and sling my leg over the wall to drop into the walled garden, something that, surprisingly, didn't occur to any of the crazed fans yet. Or maybe it did. I dropped to a crouch behind a fragrant bush when I spotted a security guard strolling past. With less than two yards between us, I had to hold my breath as I waited for him to pass by. When he stepped through an arch and behind a hedge, I took off for the employee gate at the other end of the garden. I hurried through it without being stopped, pulling the gate closed. I hastily walked around the narrow, paved path until I reached the kitchen doors. Just as I got there, one popped open and Lauren stuck her head around.
"I thought you'd never get here," she said. "Do you know how many people I had to scream at? I even had to pop an extra button for Josh!"
I suppressed a smile as I stepped through, closing the door behind me. "Thanks."
"Where to now?"
"I need to get to the security suite. It's on the second floor."
"Let's go."
"You've gotten me this far; you don't need to do anything else."
Lauren squared her shoulders. "Oh, please! I got you in and I want to know what you got."
"I don't want to get you into any trouble."
"Yeah?" she scoffed. "Like the murder I'm going to get charged with? Like a little B and E counts?"
"It's not B and E because you let me in as your guest."
"Whatever. I'm paying you, so I'm coming."
"Uh..." I paused, unable to find a reason to argue with her.
"You need me. What if someone catches you?" Lauren pointed out. "You just got fired and it'd be so embarrassing to be thrown out of the hotel on your ass."
"I quit!"
"Same difference. I'm your boss now, so let's go."
I preferred the Lauren I met yesterday; the Lauren who was scared and needed help. However, if this Lauren were bound and determined to be my sidekick, truthfully, she could have been useful to have around. If anyone challenged me, I was pretty sure she could distract them long enough for me to achieve my objective. I had to find out if Don was on any cameras in the hotel around the time of Katya's murder.
"Okay," I conceded. "Let's go. We'll take the service stairs."
The security suite was at the end of a long corridor. With all the security concentrating on the areas the paparazzi and fans might try to break into, we had no problem reaching the suite uninterrupted and virtually unnoticed.
I knocked on the door and went in after a man barked, "Enter!"
"Hi," I told him, improvising on the spot. "I'm with B4U's security detail..."
"The divas on the top floor? My little girls love them," he said. "Every second word in my house is B4U. B4U
this, B4U tha... Oh my gosh." He scrambled to his feet as Lauren stepped inside and bumped the door shut with her butt.
"I bet they'd love tickets to our show," she said.
He gaped at her before stuttering, "We couldn't get them. They sold out too fast. Wait until I tell my girls I actually met you! They'll be so thrilled!"
Lauren reached into her pocket and pulled out a clutch of tickets that she waved at him. "How do four tickets sound for our biggest fans?" she asked.
"Unbelievable," said the guard.
"Listen, AJ," I said, reading the nametag on his shirt. "We need your help. We need to review some security footage from the day Katya was murdered."
"I'm not supposed to show anyone that stuff," he said.
"Yeah? Well, I'm not supposed to hand out these free tickets," said Lauren.
"We won't take long," I told him. "I just need to confirm something; then we'll be gone. Plus, I’m with Lauren's security...""
AJ nodded. "Okay, I got the memo about the detective agency being allowed access to our footage. You're with those guys, right?"
"Yes, she is," said Lauren.
That seemed good enough for him. "Okay, tell me what you need."
The three of us sat in front of the monitors and I reconsidered pursuing a nice, safe career as a mall cop, sitting behind a nice, safe bank of security monitors full time, while we scrolled through the footage. "Stop; go back," I said, pointing to the top right of the screen. "Focus on this segment."
"Got it." The segment filled the screen and we watched a man walking through the employee entrance, his face hidden under a cap as he kept his head down. A maid bumped him with a cart and he jumped to the side, looking up and giving the camera an excellent view of his face.
"That's Don," said Lauren.
"And that's exactly what we need. Can you find out where he went from here?" I asked, and AJ began to punch some buttons.
"Maybe. We recently installed a face-reading algorithm… If I set it to run his face to this specific time window... there. Got him. That’s him walking through the kitchen... here he appears again by the service elevator, and here he is, exiting it, thirty minutes later. We can follow him back to the employee entrance."
We watched, totally rapt as Don appeared on screen again and exited the service elevator. This time, his jacket was wadded in his hand, but he still wore his cap. "Can I get a copy of that?" I asked.
"Sure. I can email it to you now."
I gave him my personal email address and brought up the email program on my phone. A moment later, I got a notification saying the email had arrived.
"Thank you so much," said Lauren, giving AJ a bright smile as she counted off four tickets and passed them to him.
"My girls are going to be thrilled. These seats are amazing."
"Do you always carry tickets around with you?" I asked as we moved towards the door.
"Sure, they're great currency."
"That's smart." I leaned in, adding quietly, "You know what would be smarter? Telling me who Michael is."
"You know what's smarter than that? You proving to everyone I'm not the murderer." Lauren paused as her cell phone rang. "Adios! Gotta go!" she said as she clicked off her call. "I'm being called to set early. They probably want me to finish filming before I get arrested."
"Don't forget..."
"Call a lawyer, then call you, if that happens."
"That's right, and don't worry. I know you didn't do this. This video should prove that."
Lauren surprised me by stopping to give me a quick hug as we paused at the door. "Thank you for believing in me. Can you get out by yourself?"
"No problem," I assured her. I watched her rounding the corner before I did an about face and stepped back into the security suite, closing the door.
"Hey, thanks again for these tickets," said AJ, looking up. "I just called my wife and she screamed with joy. I haven't heard her scream like that since I proposed."
"You're welcome. Actually, I hoped you might be able to help me with something else."
"Sure. Anything."
"Can you run Lauren's face through your facial recognition program?"
"Yeah, I can run anyone's face."
"Can you limit it to a specific time window?"
"Sure."
I gave him the date and he looked up, alarmed. "That's when her friend was killed. You think she and this guy were in on it together?"
"No!"
"Is she a suspect?"
"Oh no," I said, grasping for a valid reason to see the footage. "I just wanted to test the software, and it was the first time I could think of."
"Right. Okay. Here's the first sighting of her in that time frame," said AJ, pointing to a screen as he called up the digital video file. We watched Lauren exiting the elevator.
"Where is she there? That doesn't look like the lobby or the penthouse suites."
"It's the sixth floor."
I frowned, wondering what business she had up there. The camera followed her as she walked along the corridor, apparently entirely unconcerned. She knocked on a room at the end. The door opened and she stepped inside.
"Can we skip ahead to the next time her face is recognized by the software?"
"Sure." AJ tapped his keys and the tape sped ahead, slowing down as Lauren reappeared on the screen. The time stamp read an hour later.
"Was she in that room for the whole hour?"
"Yeah, looks that way. The software would have picked up her face if she were anywhere else."
"Do you know whose room it is?"
"Nah. I don't have access to that kind of stuff. I just get to watch guests making out in the elevators; and check that the maids aren't stealing the robes. You can try the reception desk downstairs. They'll know who booked the room."
I thanked AJ again for his help and left. I was pleased at discovering something else that could help me prove Lauren definitely wasn't in on the murder. So far, my freelance PI career was going great! I knew where Lauren was at the time Katya died, and I knew someone else was in the room to alibi her. I also had a much better suspect; one I could tie to being seen at the hotel during the time he was supposed to have been at the hospital. Unfortunately, what I didn't have was any direct evidence to link him to Katya at the moment of her death. His visit to the kitchen, prior to taking the service elevator, was something. I figured he could have grabbed the knife then, concealing it in his jacket on the way down.
I paused at the corridor junction. I was wondering if I should take the stairs up to the sixth floor, and knock on the mystery room’s door, or head downstairs and get out of the hotel before my luck ran out. What if I happened to run into Solomon or Joe Carter? Just then, my cell phone rang, causing me to jump.
Solomon.
I groaned inwardly and hit reject. I just couldn't deal with him now. I was too angry. I was angry that he took me off the case after I was set up, angry that he couldn't see that, angry that I quit my job, and angry that he let me. I was also really pissed off that he took so long to call. I felt undervalued and mistrusted and I wasn't in the mood to talk to him. I had to solve a case.
My decision made, I headed downstairs toward the kitchen, stopping short as I spotted Solomon and Josh Alvarez crossing the corridor, also heading in the direction of the kitchen.
"Damn it," I muttered, realizing my path was blocked. Peering around the corridor, I searched for another route. Delgado was posted at the end of the corridor, next to the employee entrance. At the other end of the corridor stood two more men; I knew they were Solomon's guys, but I didn't know them personally. The way I saw it, I had two choices: 1) go back the way I came, and wait for a chance to exit unseen via the kitchen, however long that might take; or 2), walk past Delgado and rely on family loyalty. He wasn't family exactly, but I thought he might become so soon. Crossing my fingers, I walked quickly towards him.
He glanced up as I approached and after blinking, narrowed his eyes. Clearly he knew.
&nbs
p; "Two babysitting evenings, and one a weekend night," I said without breaking my stride.
"You got it and I didn't see you," he agreed as I kept walking. Just as the doors slid open, he looked over his shoulder and said, "You better not be in trouble."
"Nope. Later!" I waved, as I rounded the edge of the hotel, unchallenged, before exiting through the gates. I power-walked all the way back to my car. Setting my phone's timer to start, I drove back to the hospital, parking and checking my time. I made it back in eleven minutes, which was faster than driving from the hospital to the hotel.
"Katya treated her flings like crap. Don was her latest, and he had plenty of time to get to the hotel, go up to Katya's suite, kill her, and return back to the hotel," I said out loud, tapping my pen against my notepad. "But how did the knife get into his hand?" What I needed, I decided, was to speak to the guy personally.
I called Lauren's private number again. "I'm on my way to the set," she said. "What's up?"
"Do you know if all the dancers will be there?"
"Yeah, I think so. Let me check the shooting schedule. Uh, let's see. Yes. We're scheduled to film a scene with all of them. It's supposed to be a club ambience scene where they all break into this cool routine. It's going to..."
I cut in. "Can you get me into the warehouse?"
"Sure, I'll leave your name at the door."
"No, not mine. Solomon will know."
"Whose, then?"
I scrambled for a name, remembering whom I last visited the set with. "Lily Shuler-Graves."
"Kind of complicated for a made-up name."
"It's not made-up. You met Lily."
"Oh. Okay. Whatever. I'll leave that name at the door and say you're my guest."
"Thanks."
"Does this mean you-know-who did it?" she whispered. "Did we discover the right stuff?"
"I don't know, but I'm going to find out."
"Cool. See you there."
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