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He turned this time, so that he could look at me completely. “You're different than the others. Don't let them change that about you.”
Before I could ask him what that meant, we were on level four, and he was holding the elevator door for me to exit.
“It's the fifth door down on the left, Miss. Have an excellent evening.”
I emerged from the elevator slowly, but as soon as I turned around, rethinking my decision, the silver door shut in my face. The hallway was empty. I was alone. I walked down the hallway to room 421, and I used the key that they had given me at the front desk to enter. I walked into a room with white carpet, white walls, and an entire wall full of floor to ceiling windows. I dropped my coat on the floor, and my purse by the door, as I admired the beautiful landscape in front of me. I could see all of Boston from here. It was breathtaking.
There was a bottle of wine and two glasses sitting on the coffee table; it had already been opened for me. I poured myself a glass, and sat in the white chair looking out over the city's landscape. I admired the twinkling lights as they told me stories that would never be spoken out loud. Friends meeting for dinner, lovers meeting for late night trysts, and parties going on that wouldn’t end until dawn. There were all these other little worlds out there that I knew nothing about. But, suddenly, I had been thrown into a world I didn't even know existed, and the thrill of it all was like a high that I couldn't get enough of.
My glass emptied quickly, and so I poured myself another. I figured that at any moment, the judge would come in, and we would leave for dinner at some lavish restaurant. The Madame said it would be under an hour, but it seemed like a lot more time than that had passed. I sat in the chair, continuing to watch the landscape, until my eyes started to close from the wine. I wanted to set my cell phone to go off on an alarm, to just take a quick power nap, but my phone was so far away back by the door, and I was so comfortable in the chair. I must've nodded off to sleep.
I heard a knock on the door that stirred me awake. I stood up so fast that I dropped what was left of the wine in my glass on the floor. Luckily, the glass itself didn't break. I grabbed it, and put it back on the coffee table before smoothing out my dress, and trying to appear as though I hadn't been sleeping. I checked myself in the mirror, and quickly grabbed my coat and purse from near the door, and put them on the chair that I had been sitting in. I didn’t want the judge to think that I had been bored waiting for him. The knocking grew louder.
“I'm coming!” I took one final deep breath, as I walked back to the door and put my hand on the handle. I opened it with a bright smile on my face, trying to appear calm even though my insides felt like they were on fire.
But the judge wasn’t at the door. It was a younger man in a dark brown jacket, and he had a serious look on his face.
“Is this Judge Paxton’s room?”
I nodded, my confidence gone.
“And you are?’
I gulped. I was about to get caught on my first night. “An acquaintance.”
He smiled. “Sure.” His phrase dripped with sarcasm. “May I come in?”
“Not until I know who you are.”
“I'm Detective Barton, and I think there's something you need to know.”
Shit. Not only was I caught, it was by a cop. This could be the end of everything.
“What's that?” I prayed the judge would come up behind him, and clear all this up. Any moment, I would see his figure coming down the hall.
“Judge Paxton is dead.”
I leaned against the door, as my eyes widened with fear. I hoped it would hold me up. “Dead?” I had just seen him an hour ago, or had it been longer than that? He had seemed fine at the club.
“Murdered.”
Chapter Five
I felt the cold metal table against my forehead. “Do we have to go over this again?” I covered my eyes with my arm. I was whining, and I knew it. But I
didn’t care. Not anymore. I was so exhausted that nothing really mattered. If they were charging me, they might as well do it.
“Yes. Now sit up.”
“I can't. I'm tired. And still a little drunk.” I decided that once you entered an interrogation room, honesty was actually the best policy. Except about the fact that I may or may not have been an escort. The Boston Buyer’s Club was kind of like Fight Club. Number one rule: there was no Boston Buyer’s Club. And I could tell what this detective was trying to get at. He only asked me a few questions about the judge, but he asked me about my activities that evening at least three times. I was tired of going over the story again and again. It hadn't changed. I met the judge at a local bar during cocktail hour, and he invited me to his room. I planned on meeting him at the hotel, but when I arrived, he wasn’t there yet. I was let into the room where he had champagne set up, I drink a little too much, and then the detective showed up. I honestly had nothing to with his murder. I didn't know how many more times I could say it.
“I don't know anything,” I mumbled.
“If I need to bring the captain in to continue to question you, I will. And he's not as nice as I am.”
My head shot up. “Is that right? I will have you know I have every intention of becoming a lawyer, and I know you cannot threaten me. Also, when the hell can I get my phone call?”
I had no idea who I was going to call, but it didn't matter. I was supposed to get one, and I was sticking to my guns. My two options were Alexis, who would completely lose it when she found out I was in jail, or Monique, who I was going be a problem for before even before I finished my first job.
