Chapter 63: She is hiding something

Sam's POV

I calmed the shock in my eyes and set my feet in motion, hurrying after them as they turned towards the hotel's restaurant.

Whatever Rowan was doing with her was none of my business, I told myself. I shook off the nagging, curious ache in my mind that wanted me to make that my business.

My boots tapping against the floor, I quickened my pace, trying to catch up with them before they reached the restaurant’s door.

All I needed to find out was what she knows about Warden Karo and inform her that she might be his next target, get her cooperation, and then I am out. "That's the plan," I repeated in my head, assuring myself I would have nothing to do with Rowan tonight or ever.

I stumbled into their front just as Rowan was pulling the double glass door of the restaurant open and helping her in.

The steel handle of the door squealed under his fingers, and his eyes narrowed on me. They widened fast, like his eyelids were at loggerheads. He didn't just look shocked. He also had the look of someone caught in a crime.

“What…” he was about to yell, but his words died fast to an unintelligible whisper.

But I had dragged my eyes from his face. They now centered on Lucy Callaghan’s slim, curvy waist, where Rowan's arm rested, holding her close like she was his. I felt something bite me from the inside at the sight, my insides twisting bitterly as my eyes lingered on his hand on her waist. But why should I fucking care that he was holding another woman as his? Why is my stomach consumed with this biting pain at the sight of something that shouldn't mean anything to me?

He followed my eyes to her waist, and he dropped his hands guiltily from her. But the damage had already been done to my heart. I could feel it shatter at the sight even though it had no reason to.

He turned his head from me after, avoiding my eyes, pretending like he doesn't know me.

I blinked off the sight and muttered to myself in my mind not to care. I forced a smile as I turned to Lucy Callaghan, whose critical eyes scrutinized me as if I were something worse than used toilet paper. Her thick lashes fanned me with quiet hostility. “And who might you be…” she paused. “Oh!” She cried with controlled ecstasy. Her lashes fanning me faster. “You are that Alex bitch. The one who broke his miserable heart,” she said.

My fist pulsed beside me, as rage pumped through me like my blood itself, but I couldn't do anything. So I just wear back my placating smile as a mask over my fury.

“I and Alex are no longer together, and I am not here for that but for something else…”

She just pushed me out of the way with her arm.

“Whatever happened between you and Alex is none of my business.” She said. She snatched Rowan's wrist then, pulling him into the restaurant with her.

I had heard she had bad manners. Never did I know it would be this bad. I shrugged my shoulders and sighed. I have endured worse. I hurried back to her, dropping to her front again, forcing both of them to another sudden halt.

“What do you want, lady?” Rowan scolded, pretending to act tough. “Can you tell that she doesn't want to see you, so leave?”

I tried my best to ignore him, as I tried to ignore the sting of his words. I looked to Lucy's hostile face again. “I am not here about Alex. I am here because of you, Lucy. I believe you are the next victim for a serial killer.”

Her eyes stilled then, her lashes taking a furious pause. Her hand, which had been moving to push me away again, fell back to her side. “What makes you believe a serial killer is after me?”

Since I had her full attention now. I dropped back to my full cop stance. “Just like I know you didn't come to the hotel because you wanted to, someone asked you to come here. The same person probably asked you to book a room near his, or he booked one for you.”

She was a pro at hiding her emotions, because not even a crack dented the impassive look she wore, except her eyes, though. I saw them flicker for a moment—hinting that I had struck at a truth.

So I proceeded, believing if I scare her, she’ll talk. Fear was always the greatest motivation for people. “I believe this same person killed Cecilia Rosewood, and this same person called you three to two days before her death.” I said, watching the veneer of bravado break from her eyes slowly. “Your number and hers were the only ones on the killer's burner phone, so if you could just tell me what you and the killer discussed between that time, I can find him and keep you safe. Just tell me…”

“I don't know what you are talking about, detective.” She said, swallowing hard, her throat bulged a bit. Her voice cracked a bit, stained by perhaps fear or guilt. I couldn't say. But that was enough of a hint that she knew what I was talking about.

“All you need to do is to just tell…”

“I said I have no idea what you are talking about, detective.” She yelled. “No one called me on those days you are talking about. I didn't even know who Cecilia Rosewood was until her death became public news, and I definitely know no one asked me to visit this hotel, because I have always come here.” She said, almost rambling, her voice straining with each word. “So you must have the wrong person.” She added. She pushed me again out of her way, continuing for one of the decorated tables in the large luxurious hall.

She almost tripped now, and Rowan had to grab tight to her waist to keep her from falling, while he turned his head back to me, stealing glances at me. There was something in her demeanor and reaction that made me guess this was a mix of guilt and fear for her. And she was definitely hiding something—something that made her guilty or scared.

Whatever it is, I had to find out. As much as I wanted to find Warden Karo, I wanted to keep another death from happening, if I could, and if indeed she was the next target.

I ran after her. I dropped into her front again. Before I could get a word out, she screamed at me at the top of her lungs. “Leave me alone. Get out.”

Instantly, the security men perching around in the restaurant came for me.