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She grimaced.
“What?”
“We’re good, but I wonder now who called it in.”
“The manager.”
She nodded. Something odd slipped down her spine, something that chilled her soul. She didn’t know what was leaving her so unsettled. Was it her conversation with Addie, or just the job? Or was it the man in the room with her? Nope, it was the hit.
“This feels like a setup.”
He grunted. “Not sure it’s that, but…if he was here with a woman, where is she? Wouldn’t they kill her too?”
“That’s a good point. He wouldn’t come here for a woman, like to see a woman. To impress a woman...yeah.”
“So, you don’t think he came here to meet a woman?”
“Not in the sense that she was here, and he was pursuing her. That she wanted to come here, yes. Or that she said for sure she would let him bed her if he paid for her to be here.”
“He sounds like an ass.”
She chuckled. “He was from what I understand. I never met him.”
“I have a feeling the FBI probably has stuff from his room that they didn’t allow us to see.”
She settled her hands on her hips. “More than likely.”
Marcus walked into the bedroom. “Damn, glad we missed this.”
Tamilya followed him through the door. The sheets had been stripped from the bed, but the blood had stained the mattress. “He or she used a silencer.”
“Yeah. They found him last night because he’d arranged for room service to deliver at two a.m.”
“Must be nice,” she murmured.
“Alright, he was on the bed, or they moved him there?”
“He was on the bed. Had to be. If it’s a hit...” she said, waiting for his nod. “Then we could very well be looking at a woman as the killer.”
“Yeah.”
She knelt on the floor and used her flashlight to look under the bed. It was clean, she knew that it would be. A woman, or a man masquerading as a woman, had lured him here, then shot him, execution style. She scanned the floor beneath the bed, and almost gave up until she saw a flash of white on the bed frame. “Hey, there’s a scrap of paper over there on your side.”
She kept the light on it until Marcus grabbed the paper. They both rose.
“Ala Moana.”
“What?” she asked.
“Ala Moana. That’s what it says.”
“It was ripped from a bigger piece of paper. Hell, it could be from three weeks ago.”
“Still, good catch,” he said, slipping the paper into an evidence bag.
“Okay, so what now? Adam’s contacts can’t meet with us right now,” she said just as both of their phones alerted them to texts.
“I guess we go back for the meeting. Elle has the results of the autopsy and, apparently, TJ made sure all the evidence was sent over to us. We were right,” Marcus said. “They were holding things back, but he made sure we got it.
