He was surprised by the hotel manager’s quick action. “I’m sending Detective Carlucci down to retrieve the video. Please hand over everything for the entire hotel from yesterday.”
“We have it ready.”
Gonzo wondered if the manager had gotten a talking-to from corporate about the importance of cooperating in a homicide investigation. He put the call on speaker while he texted Dani to ask her to retrieve the video and get it to Archie’s team for analysis. Then he asked Detective Cameron Green to join him at the victim’s room.
“Do you know how long the police vehicles will remain outside the building?” Wright asked.
“Until we’re done.”
After a long pause, Wright said, “Very well, then.”
Gonzo pressed the red button to end the call. Even when he was cooperating, the guy irritated him.
Russell came off the elevator five minutes later. He nodded to Gonzo when they met up outside room six thirty-two.
Green came from the other end of the hallway and arrived as Russell used his passkey to open the door.
Gonzo and Green gloved up before entering the room.
“Thank you,” Gonzo said as he used his body to block Russell’s view of the interior. “We’ll take it from here.”
Russell grunted out a reply that Gonzo couldn’t decipher and turned to walk away.
Inside the room, the situation quickly became clear. Gonzo sighed when he saw drug paraphernalia, including hypodermic needles, powder residue and small plastic bags, on the desk.
“Shit,” he muttered.
“Heroin?” Green asked.
“That was his drug of choice. According to the wife’s sister, he’d been clean for four years. Son of a bitch. I so don’t want to have to tell his wife about this.”
“I can handle that for you, Gonzo,” Green said, knowing the discovery would strike close to home for him.
“It’s okay. I’ll do it when the time comes. Let’s take some photos and get Crime Scene in here.” They’d process the evidence that would probably lead to a drug deal gone bad.
While Gonzo took photos on his phone, Green contacted Lieutenant Haggerty to let his team know they’d gained access to the victim’s room.
“Haggerty said they’re on the way.”
As Gonzo looked around at evidence that told the story of a relapse, he felt chilled to the bone, knowing Dale Carver had thrown away years of sobriety—or at least as far as his family knew—while on a work trip across the country, far away from the family that loved him and depended on him.
Addiction was a bitch that way. Just when you thought you had it beat, opportunity knocked, and you walked through that door as if the monumental effort to kick the habit had never happened.
There but for the grace of God go I. Gonzo felt sick to his stomach.
Freddie Cruz came through the door they’d propped open by engaging the security lock. “Heard you guys were in here.”
“Hey, you’re early,” Gonzo said, relieved to see his close friend and colleague an hour earlier than expected.
Freddie’s sharp-eyed gaze took in the drug paraphernalia. “Couldn’t sleep thinking about Ethan and the family, so I figured I may as well come in.”
“Glad to have you,” Gonzo said. “We’re running on fumes after an all-nighter.” He brought him up to speed on what they knew so far. He handed Freddie the piece of paper with the wife’s phone number on it. “Her name is Trisha Carver. I told her sister Mercy that there was no reason for them to come here unless they wanted to. They’ll be waiting to hear from Lindsey with next steps. She has their numbers, too.”
Gonzo rubbed the back of his neck, which was aching from the long night. “The manager, Wright, was a prick last night, but he’s changed his tune this morning, presumably after being told to by corporate. Russell’s his assistant and is easier to deal with. Carlucci is getting the film and taking it to Archie’s team for analysis.”
“Got it. Go on home. I’ll take it from here.”
“Thanks, man. I’ll catch a few hours and come back in later.”
