A Dallas Suite

Chapter Eight

Michael was about as much of a celebrity as you could be working as a doctor. He was tall, handsome and had a luscious head of salt and pepper hair. He worked as a chief of surgery for one of the bigger hospitals in the city, and in the country. His face became the marketing campaign a few years back. You couldn't get on a Dallas highway without seeing a billboard with his face on it.

Since he was the chief of surgery now he was able to handpick his surgeries. And with his new local celebrity status, that translated to he operated on the people with the deepest pockets or biggest names. He was great at what he did, and people believed him to be the best thanks to his popularity. He had tens of thousands of followers on social media and he was always posting pictures with his celebrity patients. If Michael was involved with this hotel room, then I couldn't imagine who else was on that list of private deposits.

I pulled up to the apartment building that Michael lived and walked inside. I told the doorman who I was there to see, flashed him my badge, and he led me right into the elevator. I was quickly on the top floor, knocking on the front door the penthouse suite.

A young blonde woman who seemed to have about as much plastic surgery as possible answered the door. "You're a cop aren't you? Of course you're here. You probably want to ask me all about that damned hotel room don't you? Come on in," she said as she turned and walked inside the massive entrance room.

"Hotel room? Are you talking about the suite at the Ritz? How do you know about that?"

She stopped at a large sofa in front of a modern tile fireplace that was centered between the entrance room and the kitchen, "have a seat, Officer. Would you like anything to drink?"

"No ma'am, I'm fine. Thank you."

I sat down on the sofa and she sat down on a sleek matching chair across from me.

"I know about the suite because I had a private investigator follow Michael there one night. I knew something was wrong, he was staying out every other weekend it seemed, which is unusual for his schedule now that he's chief. So I had someone tail him and tell me what they found."

"What exactly did they find?"

"Well they couldn't go up to the room or anything, but they saw Michael park at some garage near the Ritz hotel. Then he went in a back door of the hotel. My guy watched that entrance for some time and saw a few prostitutes go in the same door. He waited there all night and saw the girls being escorted out a few hours, Michael left in the morning. And I'm sorry, I don't know if they were actually prostitutes, I'm just assuming."

Well that pretty much confirmed Hopes theory that people were renting the room and more than likely having women shuttled into the room as well. "Where is your husband now, ma'am? Is he here right now?"

"No, he left a couple of hours ago. We got into a big fight about the hotel room last night and he was still pissed off about it this morning. Said he had to leave for a while to straighten some things out."

"What exactly was the fight over?"

"The room. I confronted him about it last night when he told me was going to have work overnight again this weekend. I told him I knew about it and I wanted him to tell me all about it or I was going to go public and ruin his brand," she told me as she leaned forward in her chair. I could tell she was getting excited now, as if she wanted me to ask more.

"And did he tell you about it?"

"He told me all about it, Officer. I don't know specifics, but he told me he rented the room from some lawyer. I don't know which one, he works with a lot of them. He gave the lawyer however much money he wanted and then that guy stocked it with whatever booze, drug or woman he wanted. He said he'd have women brought into the room whenever he wanted and then they left when he was finished with them. Can you believe that? Five years of marriage and I have no idea if he has ever been faithful. Anyways, I told that I wanted a divorce, because I just got more and more upset thinking about it all night. He told me he was going to fix this, whatever that means, and that he would be back tonight."

"Now when you say he left a couple of hours ago, do you remember roughly what time?"

She looked down at her high dollar smart watch then looked at me and squinted her eyes for a moment, like she was thinking. "I don't know exactly when, but maybe around three or four in the morning," she said, still squinting her eyes. I glanced at my watch and noticed it was almost nine now. That's more than a couple of hours.

"Would he be driving in a certain vehicle, or did he leave on foot?" I asked her.

"He would be in his car," she replied as she scrolled through her phone and provided me with a picture of his vehicle. It's the exact car I would guess a young millionaire doctor would be driving.

"Do you have any idea where he might have gone?" It was starting to sound like Michael might be my prime suspect.

"I'm sorry officer, but I don't. Is there anything else you wanted to know?" She looked at then gently slapped her hand against her forehead. "You were here to ask about the hotel room, right? Please don't tell me I just started rambling on about something you don't even care about!"

"Yes ma'am I was, and I think you've given me more information than I could have hoped for. Thank you so much for your help." It wasn't exactly a lie. I did want to know about the hotel room. So maybe I left out the part about the murder and that she just told me her husband left last night, when the murder took place. That's a small detail that she didn't need to know just yet. Besides, if she ever checked the news I'm sure she'd find out soon enough. A story like this wouldn't be hidden for too long. I left her my card and saw myself out through the front door.