Chapter 18
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The ambulance had left moments ago. Two ambulances in the span of a few days—except this time they had come for a woman who had been left for dead.
But Gita wasn’t dead. A faint pulse had fluttered beneath Hena’s fingers while they waited for the medics to arrive.
The police were everywhere. Their heavy boots echoed against the polished hotel floors.
Lucinda sat across from an officer at one of the lobby chairs where days earlier, Hena had helped Reza apply a bandage to his burned palm. That moment felt like it was from a lifetime ago. The glass of water in Lucinda’s hand sloshed as she tried to compose herself.
“There was a phone call.” Her voice was thick with emotion. “He said he was with our AC repair company. Said there was a fire hazard issue. I told him we’d have our maintenance team look into it, but he insisted it was urgent. I rushed over, and then…then…” She collapsed into sobs.
A chill went through Hena. Lucinda hadn’t stumbled upon Gita. She’d been sent to find her. Someone had wanted to hurt Gita, and they had also wanted her to be found.
But why would anyone target Gita?
“Ms. Mirza?”
Two female officers approached her. One was dark-haired. Her badge identified her as Officer Kraus. The other woman, blond, was Officer Steen.
“Do you mind if we ask you a few questions?” Kraus asked.
Hena hesitated. Her instinct was to grab her phone and call Haris. Ask him to join her. But why? She had nothing to hide.
She followed them to the back of the hotel, overlooking the pool. The swans lazily drifted across from her. Officer Steen pulled out a notepad.
“Where were you this morning, Ms. Mirza?” she asked once they were alone, her pen poised against the paper.
“I wish I’d seen something. I was in my hotel room at that time.”
“Can anyone confirm your location?” asked Officer Kraus.
This was protocol, Hena thought. They wanted to verify everyone’s location. But the only one who could confirm this was Reza. Her face warmed as she shook her head. There was no way she was telling them that.
“How would you describe your relationship with Gita?” Kraus continued.
“She works for my mother,” Hena said. “I met her this week.”
Why were they looking at her so closely? Was this a fact-finding mission? Or an interrogation? She needed to play it safe. She fumbled for her phone and dialed Haris’s number. When he answered, she quickly explained the situation.
“Ms. Mirza, this won’t take long,” Steen said. “If you could give us a few moments of your time, we—”
“I’m not saying anything until my lawyer is here.”
Moments later, Haris swept into the lobby, hair mussed, shirt untucked. He looked like he’d been yanked out of sleep, but his eyes were alert. He assessed the officers, his mouth a firm line, as Hena filled him in.
“I’m not sure why you feel the need to waste time interrogating Hena,” he said, sharply. “The longer you keep us here, the more time we lose finding whoever actually did this.”
“This won’t take long,” Steen repeated.
“I was in my room,” Hena told them. “I have no reason to hurt Gita.”
The officers shared a look.
“That’s—that’s not why we’re asking,” Kraus said, her tone gentler.
“Then what is it?” Haris demanded. His eyes met Hena’s. Protective. Wary.
“Do you believe there’s anyone who might want to harm you, Ms. Mirza?” Steen asked.
Me? Her mouth went dry.
“Your name came up in our system,” Steen explained. “There’s a report that you were the victim of an assault several years ago. Attempted strangulation.”
“The assailant was not apprehended, correct?” Kraus asked.
“That’s right…” Hena said slowly as a dread pooled inside her. “Why?”
“We are trying to determine motive,” Kraus said. “And we can’t help but notice the physical similarities between yourself and the victim.”
Hena steadied herself as the implication of their words sank in. They didn’t look alike, not really, but Gita wasn’t much older than Hena. They had the same build. The same dark hair and olive skin. To someone who did not know them well, they could certainly be mistaken for each other.
“There is also the similar manner of her attack,” Steen said.
“She was…she was struck from behind,” Hena said. “I saw the blood. Was she…was she strangled too?”
Steen nodded. “There are signs consistent with strangulation. Our guess is she may have struggled, which led to her head trauma.”
Hena drew in a sharp shallow breath. The room blurred.
“Hena, do you need to sit?” Haris watched her worriedly.
Sitting wouldn’t make this better. Someone had assaulted Gita. They’d left her for dead.
They’d thought she was Hena.
Rapid footsteps. Reza hurried toward her, his brow creased with worry.
“Hena, what’s going on? Are you okay?”
“Gita was attacked,” she said in a hollow voice. “A few hours ago.”
Reza’s eyes widened with alarm. “Where? The premises were deserted when I headed out this morning.”
His attention shifted to the officers. Haris.
“Sorry,” he said quickly. “I’m interrupting.”
He started to turn away, and Haris pursed his lips.
“Where exactly were you heading?” he asked, his tone deceptively casual.
“What?” Reza gave him a startled look.
“You said you were heading out this morning. Where did you go?”
Reza’s eyes flicked to Hena, then back to Haris. He slowly shook his head.
“I didn’t see anything, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“Not an answer to the question,” Haris observed.
Reza frowned. “No offense, but I’m not sure why I need to explain myself to you.”
Haris didn’t respond, but his eyes didn’t leave Reza’s. Hena shifted. The tension vibrating between them was so thick she could cut it with a knife.
Reza was new. Sure, he was Khaled’s friend, but he wasn’t from their community. She understood Haris’s protectiveness. Before she could speak up, one of the officers did.
“We’ll be asking everyone where they were. It’s protocol,” Kraus told Reza. “If you don’t mind sharing where you were around eight this morning, it would be enormously helpful.”
“I was at Publix. Seven miles up the road. Grabbing groceries. I returned shortly after nine o’clock.”
“You were at the grocery store,” Haris repeated.
“That’s right,” Reza said. “I needed some ingredients for breakfast.”
“Makes sense,” Haris said. “It’s not as though there’s any food to eat on the premises, right?”
“What are you trying to say?” Reza shot back. “Check the security footage. It’ll back up what I’m saying.”
“Yes,” Hena said quickly, hoping to stop this from spiraling. “There should be footage. Lulu’s got cameras all over the hotel. If Gita was attacked on the property, it’ll show clear as day who did it.”
The officers traded a look. Steen sighed.
“Whoever did this got ahead of that. They blocked out the cameras.”
“They hacked them?”
“Yes. They vandalized a few as well.”
Vandalized.
Her stomach twisted. She bolted outside, racing past the reception desk and onto the pathway she’d hurried down a short while earlier. She scanned the eaves of the building and gasped.
There it was. The camera. It was coated, and splotches of still-wet paint dripped to the concrete below.
Red paint.
Like last time.
The world tilted around her.
She couldn’t speak. She couldn’t move. Panic filled her system. Because this wasn’t random. This wasn’t a coincidence. It was now confirmed: Whoever had done this was hoping to finish what they’d started three years ago.
Gita wasn’t the target. Hena was.