The CCTV Footages
Sam's POV
I drove back to the precinct some minutes after leaving the hotel with the CCTV footage.
I swerved with my car into the parking lot and adjusted the gear to park. I didn't wait to hear the engine die to a silent hum as I jumped down, grabbing a large envelope from the glove box—the envelope containing the hard-drives for the CCTV footages.
I hid it under my jacket as I raced up the stairs. I pushed the glass double doors, stepping into the stuffy air and the bureaucratic hustle and bustle in the large room.
The air conditioner was probably on full blast. Yet beads of sweat pooled on my head, dripping a wet patch to my eyes. I shook my head to shake off the sweat as I hurried to my desk.
I stared down at the bulge under my jacket, and I sighed heavily. This was the last time I was getting mixed up with a stranger. No more. Not even an angel could talk me into dining, not to mention sleeping with someone I don't know.
I dropped down on my seat, and I connected the hard-drives to my computer, and the footage popped up in folders on my screen. I sift through the footage for that night, beginning with the footage of the lobby. It seemed to be video only. No sound came out.
I fast-forwarded most of the details until it reached the point when Rowan escorted Cecilia Rosewood into the hotel lobby. He looked proud and confident as he followed her in, his arm settled firmly on her waist.
I leaned forward into the screen, my eyes picking up on something quickly. Cecilia Rosewood seemed to be staggering. Her footsteps were slightly unsteady. It took Rowan's grip on her waist to get her to walk very well. She had a bottle of champagne in one hand and her cellphone in the other—a device that was missing now, along with the murder weapon.
She took it back to her hotel room, which means that the killer had taken it. The phone seemed to ring, and she answered it, speaking into it. Whoever she was speaking with must have said something serious to her, because she snapped up on Rowan’s arm, stretched taut like a ruler.
She pulled away from his arms then and ran into the elevator cage, which Rowan had already opened for her. Rowan stood back, staring at her as the elevator cage swallowed her. Then he turned back, striding out of the hotel, and that ended the scene.
I forwarded the footage again. I stopped when it got to my part with Rowan. He held me tighter to his body as I latched onto him like a spider, my arms thrown around his neck, my legs curled around his waist, so as to hold me steady while I kissed him madly, like a… The word hung in my mind. I stared at the screen, my lips curled in disgust… I kissed him like a whore. I was running my lips around him crazily. It was horrifying to watch. Fucking horrifying to know that was me. How could I have been so stupid? The hotel staff had stared at us, and the other guests in the lobby had all watched us, like a spectacle—watching as I kissed Rowan crazily, my hands folding tighter and tighter across his neck, and my legs curling tighter and tighter around his waist, making it almost hard for him as he ran with me across the hotel lobby to the elevator cage.
I paused the video. And I threw my hands on the table. I bowed to myself, letting my hair spread over to cover my eyes, and I began running my hands through it, grunting hard and loud.
I jammed my fists into the table repeatedly, ignoring the stares from the officers around. I didn't need to see it. I could feel it, feel the confused stares around the large office, just as I felt my shame from the video. Last night was not just a bad idea. It was a terrible one. I was never doing one-night stands again. Never. And definitely never touching alcohol also. I hadn't just put my career on the line yesterday. I had ridiculed myself. I made myself no better than a whore.
No! This whole thing wasn't just an ordinary coincidence. It was karma. The bitch was catching up to me faster than I could run. I leaned back onto my seat, pushing back my hair from covering my eyes.
I stretched my lips in a stiff smile at all the lingering stares from the cops around. I swallowed continuously, my chin dipped down, and I threw my head in quiet nods at everyone consecutively, wishing all the stares would stop. It only made me more ashamed of myself, more embarrassed.
When everyone had reluctantly returned to the seats. I returned my gaze also to the screen. I backed forward the footage and hit the play button. I tried to picture in my mind that that wasn't me, that it was someone else. It was hard, but I tried. Now, I watched the footage critically, not as a woman ashamed of herself, but as a cop. Thanks for the wanton and crazy kissing and Rowan running down the lobby with me. My face didn't show in the cameras. It was just a woman in a red sheath gown. It could be me or anyone.
I relaxed into my seat with a heavy sigh, and I moved to the CCTV footage covering the hallway on the tenth floor, especially the one nearer to rooms 2000 to 2003, my room, Miss Rosewood's room, and down to room 2003, Mr. Warden Karo’s room.
My Warden Karo was the first to arrive. He wore regular chino pants and a plain white long-sleeved, round-necked shirt beneath a normal unbuttoned shirt. Whoever Warden Karo was, he wanted to keep his face hidden, and he was smart about it. He wore a face mask and a face cap. Both of which hid his face from the CCTV camera. I forwarded the footage again until it was Miss Rosewood arriving, staggering down the hall to her room. I forwarded the footage again for another thirty minutes when I arrived with Rowan. I was still behaving like a whore, kissing him as he led me to the hotel room. He snatched my purse from me, got the key card, and let us in.
I forwarded the footage again, and I stopped when the time at the top right corner of the footage read one pm at midnight.
I returned to the footage of the lobby and began combing through again, stopping again at the footage of someone dressed like Mr. Warden Karo. I was hoping the camera capturing the front desk would pick up his face. But Mr. Warden Karo wasn't just smart. He knew the blind spots of the cameras, which means… I narrowed my eyes on the screen… He has been to the hotel before. He removed his nose mask while speaking with the front desk staff, yet the camera didn't pick up his face, only the side of his head, heavily covered by the face cap. Now I can bet my last card on it that Mr. Warden Karo was our killer. Everything about him looks too suspicious and shady.
The footage continued to when Rowan walked Cecelia Rosewood in and moved to the time he left. It was running towards the time he arrived with me when a heaviness gripped my bladder. I jumped from my desk, dashing fast to the restroom without second thoughts.
I was ambling back to my desk, cleaning my hands with a towel, when I froze at the entranceway to the hallway that leads to the restroom. Cold sweat broke on my forehead as a strange coldness gripped my spine, cold icy tendrils claiming every vein, every cell in me. The towel fell fast from my trembling fingers.
Standing over my desk, eyes locked on the screen, fingers clicking on my mouse, was Captain James. His eyes drifted from the screen and found me. They darkened on me, the heat in them almost knocking me to the ground. I staggered on the spot. He didn't need to say it. I could see it in his eyes. He’d found the footage of me and Rowan.