scene of the crime

I woke up to a text from Drihanna: “I need you to call me asap regarding police matter.”

Shit. I checked my call list, and she had called, but no one else had. So it probably wasn’t related to the robbery, or the detective would have called me first. What now?

When I called her, the first thing she asked was, “Did you notice anything sketchy about that Gina person you rented to last night?”

Other than the fact that she wanted two rooms, a Jacuzzi room and a standard room (135 and 215, respectively), no, and I told her so.

“Well, when the housekeepers went in to clean 215 this morning, they found blood. And a knife.”

“What the–? Lots of it?”

“The sheet had soaked places on it, big patches all over, and through to the mattress. There’s a gang of cops here now. Wallace said there were people in and out of here all last night; he was running ragged chasing them down. Some guy came in from 215, and was trying to look at the cameras to see what we could see.”

“Oh, Jesus Christ.”

“Yeah. Well, I gotta get that [phone]. See you in a minute.”

When I got to the lol-iday inn a little while later, there was only one cop left, and he was getting ready to leave. Drihanna filled me in on the details. The cops said the knife probably had little to do with the blood, since it was a bread knife. They also said that the blood patterns–great big soaking splotches all over the sheets and blanket, drips across the room, and fingerprints on the headboard–were consistent with female sexual assault, ie rape. And we apparently work with total idiots: The housekeeper for that section, despite Drihann’s telling her NOT to clean anything in the room or touch it, had the sheet soaking in bleach when the cops arrived to check everything out. And had scrubbed the mattress. Fucking A.

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