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.”