Hamilton Hotel

Chapter One

It was just a normal day at the Station. I arrived at my usual time, 7:30, and was held- up by the usual desperate newspaper man, James Herald. He wanted news, real news. Naturally, I wondered why he was looking for it here.

"I don't think things around here are as quiet as you say they are. Something has to happen once and a while."

"Well why don't you go somewhere else where things happen all the time, then?" I asked.

He glared at me. "Come on Rachel, just one tiny murder? Or maybe a bit of a scandal?"

"Nope, we're all out of those, but hey, Mrs. Bingley's cat is stuck on a tree. How about you go report on that?"

"Cut the crap, you're just playing me now."

I laughed. "Alright, I'll tell you what. Go down to the court house. There's plenty of stories there."

"That's where all the other guys are." He sighed. "Fine, if you won't talk, I'll just wait until you do."

We were in my office now. I sat at my desk and began scanning the folders I needed to look through today.

"Okay, but keep in mind: Nothing ever happens here."

"I'll keep praying."

As luck would have it, the doors to our floor burst open and a frantic, frazzled young woman sprinted in donned with a bathrobe, a bagel in one hand, and a toothbrush in the other.

"I'm late, I'm late. I'm terribly late!" She muttered, ducking into the office beside mine.

"Wait! What's happened? Who are you? You got any news?" James shouted, temporarily forgetting about me and banging on the door. "Hey!"

Meanwhile, I had not moved and was waiting for James to give up on that entrance.

"Who was that?" James asked breathlessly, after shouting a few more times.

"Diana Rhodes. She works here."

James fell into a chair in front of me. "Nothing ever happens, eh?"

"Nope, if you'll excuse me," I got up and knocked lightly next door. "Diana, what's the deal?"

The door opened a crack, and a hand grabbed me and pulled me in. Slamming the door closed, Diana looked up at me.

"Slept late," she explained, while changing frantically into some more decent clothes. "Then I had to get Tim to school, you know how it is."

"No I don't, actually. I have no idea what motherhood is like."

A gruff knock on the door cut our conversation short.

"Hold on!" Diana finished dressing. "Yeah?"

The door opened to a burly man with long hair dragging James by the leg.

"Have we had the pleasure..?" The man asked, glancing down.

"James Herald, L.A. Times."

"Max Montana, Private Eye."

"Ah, Of course! Listen, what's really going on here?"

"Other than you being kicked out, nothing new." I cut in, extricating James from Max's grip.

"You know this guy?" Max asked me.

I sighed. "Sadly,"

"Weren't you lurking outside my office when I came in?" Diana asked.

Before James could answer, the doors burst open, for the third time that day, to reveal a wide- eyed, frantic woman, a little older than us. An officer walking by attempted to intercept her.

"Hey, lady. Watch it." He said.

"Let me go! Let me go! Diana! I need to see my cousin!"

"Adaline?" Diana called, walking nearer.

The woman broke free of the man's hold and rushed over to us. Signs of worry and fear were evident on her face.

"Addy, what is it? What's happened?"

She took a deep breath. "Diana, I think my husband's been murdered."