Haunt [Aidan Hunter series book 2] [RE-WRITING]

Chapter 3

The victim's eyes were half-open, fixed in a lifeless stare. I kneeled by her to examine her. Aidan glanced up at the balcony she had leaped from. The area was cordoned off and forensics were taking pictures. A crowd of people had gathered nearby, trying to get a glimpse of the scene, and a couple of officers were holding them back away from the scene.

From the photos I'd seen of Amelia in her profile, she was undoubtedly beautiful. Her youthfulness defied her age. She didn't look like a married woman with two kids. Her formal clothes were fresh, and she wasn't wearing any footwear. Strands of her damp, tangled hair fell onto her face. She must've showered and was getting ready to leave somewhere when this happened. On her left ring finger sat a golden wedding band. I couldn't figure out what would make her resort to something like this other than coercion of some kind.

According to Martin, he'd received the call about forty minutes ago.

A familiar forensics officer came by to collect blood samples.

"Nasty fall, huh?" he said.

"Tell me about it," I replied.

"Jerry." Aidan recognized him. "How's the gang at the forensics lab?"

"Kinda different without Henry there," Jerry replied. "It's monotonous now."

I smiled. "Times change. Just because I'm not in the team, doesn't mean you guys need to treat me like a stranger."

"We don't do that. We drop by."

"Really? When?" Aidan asked.

"...We will drop by," the forensic replied.

I got to my feet. "Let's go see the room."

Nodding at Jerry, Aidan and I went into the building. 'Acacia Hotel' was displayed in gold lettering above the entrance. We entered an ostentatious lobby, with an immaculate marble floor and an enormous chandelier, which twinkled in the sunlight streaming in from the large windows. Accents of wine-red and gold could be seen at the receptionist's desk, and the sofas in the waiting areas.

Aidan looked around and scowled. "Staying here would be a great place to empty your wallet."

"The rich don't have a problem with that," I said, as the elevator doors opened with a golden ding and we headed for the sixth floor.

***

A smart uniformed officer standing outside Amelia's room nodded when he saw us. "I've got three witnesses waiting in the next room."

The three witnesses—a steward, a TV repairman, and the head of security stood nearby. We wanted to look at Amelia's room first before proceeding to question them. Parker was in the surveillance room on the ground floor, doing what she did best.

Aidan pulled his gloves taut with a snap as he scanned the room. A damp towel lay crumpled on the bed and a telephone handle dangled from the table. He eyed it and then me. I gave him a knowing look. We both thought the same thing—that Amelia must've received a call, most likely something disturbing, else she wouldn't have left the handle hanging there like that. Her handbag sat on an armchair.

Robert whistled as he admired the room. "This is a wonderful suite. I could take a day off and relax here, order room service all day, soak in a warm bath—"

"Be hopelessly decadent, leap out the window," Aidan said.

I grinned as I searched Amelia's bag. It only contained her sundries—compact mirror, half-used lipstick, pepper spray, a small bottle of perfume, a small purse, a notepad and a pen. The notepad contained random notes, mostly related to her business, along with some phone numbers. Her purse contained five thousand dollars in cash, a photograph of her husband and two children, her ID, and a driver's license.