“My workers had already been told to go, and they’d packed up trucks and vans and driven away. Salas came up from the basement at about five o’clock, followed by the uniform. I’d retreated inside as the day grew hot. The hotel had been built long before air-conditioning had been invented, but the walls were thick enough to keep out the heat of the day. “You have somewhere to stay?” Salas asked me when he emerged.“Yes. Here.”“It’s a crime scene.”“The basement is. My bedroom isn’t.”“I’m sorry, Jan...et. We need to go over the entire place, try to find out if the woman was brought here or killed here.”“I’ve been renovating.” I gestured at the freshly plastered walls, the newly tiled floor and staircase. “Any evidence is on the county dump.”Even with my aversion to staying in a place where death had happened, I had no intention of abandoning my hotel. The place was becoming a part of me, something I couldn’t walk away from. The problems I kept encountering made it more challenging, but I wasn’t about to give up.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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