“About the Xanax,” I said slowly, bringing up one last unresolved question. “Do you think Ali was taking it?”
Lizzie paused before answering. “I honestly don’t know. I mean, he was obviously bothered by the events surrounding Daddy’s death. Maybe he wanted something to take the edge off.”
My phone buzzed. I had an incoming call. It was Detective Fox.
“I have to go. I have another call. A business call.” I’m not sure why I lied to Lizzie about the police being on the other line. But it was my first instinct.
“I’ll let you go, then. No problem.” She talked fast. “Listen, Amira. Call anytime you need to talk.”
“Thanks,” I said, eager to switch over to pick up Detective Fox’s call.
“I mean it. It’s the least I can do for you ... and Ali.”
Thanking her again, I clicked over to pick up the detective’s call.
“We have a new development,” Detective Fox said.
My stomach twisted. “What is it?” Irrationally, I jumped to the conclusion that she suddenly knew about Ali’s role in Lawrence Martins’s death.
“Surveillance footage near the Parkview Hotel in Rosslyn shows the loaner car your husband was driving pulling into the hotel parking lot on the evening of the accident.”
“The Parkview?” I repeated. “What was he doing there?”
“That’s what I was going to ask you. Can you think of any reason Mr. Abadi would have to visit the hotel after leaving the Channel Three work event at Waterman’s Grill?”
“None. We’ve been to a few weddings there, but he’d otherwise have no reason to be there. How long was he at the hotel?”
“Not long. According to our timeline, your husband left Waterman’s at eleven o’clock, and the accident scene is only fifteen minutes from Waterman’s. We think Mr. Abadi was at the hotel for less than twenty minutes.”
What had Ali been doing there? “Is there any surveillance tape from inside the hotel?”
“We’re checking, but it could take some time. Hotels like to protect their guests’ privacy. They don’t willingly share surveillance tape unless a crime has actually been committed on their property.”
“How long could it take to get the tape?”
“If we have to go through the formal process? It could take weeks, unfortunately.”
I hung up, completely bewildered. I could think of no reason for Ali to go to that hotel. I needed to see that surveillance tape, possibly the last footage ever taken of him. I couldn’t bear the thought of waiting weeks for that to happen. There had to be a way to see it sooner. Who could I call? How could I get that tape? Would Nasser have any special pull?
But just as quickly, I backed away from the notion of asking Nasser. I was still uneasy that he’d known about the second break-in. I wasn’t sure I could trust him now. Or if I ever should have. Maybe I was being overly suspicious. But I needed to rely on myself to figure this out.
Then I remembered running into my second cousin Hamza the last time we attended a wedding at the hotel. I searched my memory. He was some sort of manager over there. Did he still have a position at the hotel? I’d seen Hamza at Ali’s funeral, but we hadn’t talked much beyond him offering condolences. I went through my contacts and pulled up his number.
“Hamza,” I said when he picked up. “I need a favor.”
“Anything for you,” he said right away. I’d learned that many people jumped at any opportunity to make a widow feel better. Hamza was clearly one of them. “What can I do?”
“Do you still work at the Parkview Hotel?”
“No, I’ve moved to another property. I’m the assistant general manager at the Parkview location in Fair Oaks.”
My heart sank. “Oh.”
“Why? What’s going on?”
I told him about Ali being at the Rosslyn hotel on the night he died. “Do you guys even hold on to surveillance tape for that long?”
“Only if there’s some reason to keep it.”
