Taking a shaky breath, I called the hotel’s front desk.
“Someone killed Rishi.”
That wasn’t how I’d meant to start the phone conversation, but my brain felt like mush. After hours of dealing with the police, and the window closing on a flight I needed to catch, there was no time for small talk. Might as well get right to the point.
“Rishi? The client you’re scheduled to be with this weekend?” Janae asked, sounding almost as confused as I felt.
Polly and I didn’t work alone. There were six of us in the area—well, five after Polly’s death—and although we were each independent entities, we pooled our resources for things like the town car service, background checks, and referrals. A British immigrant who went by the name of Janae had donned the mantle of team mom. She was in her mid-fifties and all but retired, but she kept one diamond-tipped acrylic nail firmly on the pulse of the group. Since Polly’s death, Janae had created an online group calendar, and begged us all to enter our appointments. She must have been monitoring it closely to recognize Rishi’s name.
“Yes. He’s… he’s dead.” I dumped my underwear drawer into my open suitcase and set the drawer aside, not bothering to slide it back into the dresser.
“Who killed him, Selina? Slow down and tell me what you’re going on about.”
It was too hard to hold the phone and pack, so I put her on speaker and dropped the cell on my bed. “I don’t know. Nothing makes sense.” I should have been eating steak au poivre and drinking Dom Perignon champagne at Zoe’s with Rishi, but instead, I was dumping clothes into my suitcase and preparing to go into hiding. I grabbed another drawer.
“How…? Selina, I—”
Taking a deep breath, I started the quick and dirty abridged version as I packed.
“The hotel manager found his body?” she asked when I paused to grab my last dresser drawer.
“Yes.” I closed my eyes against the image that would forever be ingrained in my mind. “Multiple stab wounds. Blood everywhere.”
“Bloody hell,” she breathed.
“Literally. The cops were called, and the security footage was pulled.” Finished with the necessities from my dresser, I selected a few items I couldn’t live without from my closet and stuffed them into the garment bag laid out on my bed. “Detective Monte grilled the fuck out of me, and I told him everything. My god, I thought he was going to throw me in jail. Thankfully, the cameras in the hallway and the statement from the masseuse cleared me. He said I’m not a suspect, as of now. They’re looking for the guy I thought was the maintenance man. Turns out, he wasn’t supposed to be there. They captured his image on the security footage, but his face was blurry, and I didn’t recognize him. I gave them all the information I could, but I don’t know anything useful about Rishi, his family, his friends, or his business.”
“What are you doing?” she asked as I zipped up the garment bag. “What’s that noise?”
“I’m packing. I’m getting the hell out of here.”
“Are you sure that’s wise?”
“I showed Detective Monte the emails and told him I’m worried they’re connected to Rishi’s murder and I don’t feel safe here. I’m sure he thinks I’m crazy and someone trying to convert my soul has nothing to do with the murder, but after Polly… He’s letting me go back to the states. I’m only here on a work visa, and my record is clean.” And no matter what I did on the side, the good detective didn’t want the blood of an American third-grade teacher on his hands. “I promised to keep my phone on and come back if he needs me for anything.”
“Where will you go?”
Setting my two large suitcases and garment bag by the door, I looked around the flat, feeling like I was missing something. The picture on my dresser snagged my attention and made my chest squeeze. I scooped it up and added it to one of the bags. “I think it’s better if I don’t tell anyone. I’m sorry. I’m sure I’m overreacting, but…” I had no idea how to finish that sentence, so I left it hanging.
Janae was quiet for a moment, and I thought for sure she’d tell me I was. “You were with Polly before she was murdered, and now Rishi. Paired with those bloody emails… I don’t know if it’s all connected, but something’s going on. It’s probably a good idea for you to get out of here until it’s sorted.”
That wasn’t very reassuring, but at least I didn’t feel crazy for fleeing the country. “Thank you, Janae. For everything.”
“The cops will do the killer,” she replied.
I knew “do” was her British way of saying arrest or capture, and I wished I shared her faith in the system, but Polly’s murderer was still at large. Hell, it might even be the same person.
How?
Why?
I had tons of questions but not one single answer.
“Be careful, Selina,” Janae said.
“I will. You, too.”
I disconnected the call, grabbed my luggage, gave my beautiful home one last look, and headed for the door.
