Detective Bureau.

When Luke returned to the Detective Bureau, the first squad had already gathered under the building.

The deputy squad leader reported proactively, "When we were tracking Brett Martel's clues, we found his card swipe record early yesterday morning. The location was at a motel."

Luke nodded. It made perfect sense that Brett Martel had a quarrel with his wife over work matters, left home in a huff, and then checked into a motel.

If he really is the deceased, that place could very well be the primary crime scene.

"Deputy, you go back and rest first. I'll lead the team to the motel to investigate." Luke waved to the others, "Guys, let's get in the car and go."

"See you tomorrow. I'll bring you some delicious donuts." The deputy watched them get into the car. Although he also wanted to go to the scene, his age was catching up, and he was indeed a bit exhausted after a whole day's work.

Rosa Motel.

This motel is located alongside a highway in the outskirts of Los Angeles.

Each motel room is independent, with two levels. The lower level is a garage, and the upper level is a room, making travel very convenient.

Luke and Blackie went to the motel reception and explained their purpose.

The receptionist checked the credit card records. Brett Martel's credit card had booked a room for three days, room number 108. According to the monitoring footage, it was indeed Brett Martel himself who checked in.

As for whether Brett Martel was currently in the room, they weren't sure. Motel guests can drive in and out directly, providing a high level of privacy.

After understanding the situation, Luke and Blackie went to investigate room 108. A red Dongfeng Nissan sedan was parked in the garage below room 108.

Luke touched the car's hood; it was still warm, indicating that someone was likely still in room 108.

He exchanged a look with Blackie, and both drew their guns.

Luke waved from afar, and Raymond brought a few officers over for support.

Before coming, Luke had already thought of an action plan. He gestured for everyone to proceed according to Plan A.

The group quietly climbed the stairs to the second floor. Blackie and Jackson stood on either side of the room's door.

The door was a common wooden one, very familiar to Blackie. He lifted his right foot and kicked heavily at the lock.

With a bang, the door swung open.

Jackson was the first to rush into the room, "LAPD, don't move."

"Raise your hands."

"Move again and we will shoot."

The team quickly entered the room and encountered an embarrassing scene.

A middle-aged white man was kneeling naked on the bed, with a brown-haired woman in a red dress lying in front of him, her dress pushed up to her waist.

The two were playing cards stuck together.

"Oh my God, what are you doing?" Blackie sounded like he was questioning, but his tone had an undercurrent of excitement.

"Don't shoot, we have no weapons." The middle-aged white man raised his hands, kneeling on the bed, not daring to move, looking a bit comical.

The red-dress woman in front of him lay on the bed, pushing her dress down with both hands, also not daring to move.

Luke was a bit speechless at this scene. He examined the white man and recognized him, "What's your name?"

"Brett Martel." The white man calmed down and asked, "Why did you barge into my room? Can I put on some clothes first?"

Luke shook his head, "I should show your wife what you look like right now."

"Officer, I haven't broken any laws. I'm just on a date with a friend."

"A friend?"

"Yes."

"Then what's your friend's name?"

"Um... We just met, not very well acquainted yet."

"How did you meet? On the street?"

Brett Martel sighed, "You barged into my room without any reason. This is illegal. Shouldn't you explain first?"

"We're investigating a murder case. Your wife came to report you missing, suspecting you were the deceased, and here you are living it up?"

"It's a misunderstanding. Nothing's going on. Just meeting up with a friend, Officer. You can leave now."

Blackie said, "You don't even know her name, yet you call her a friend? Do you take the LAPD for fools?

Or is this the best excuse you can come up with?" Blackie walked to the head of the bed, looking at the brown-haired woman,

"Lady, you should be smart. Tell me, what is your relationship with him?"

"Friend." The woman's face was hidden by her hair, making her features unclear.

"What's his name?"

"We just met." The brown-haired woman's voice was very soft.

"What's your name?"

Blackie closely inspected her clothing, accessories, and belongings. From his experience, she could be a streetwalker, just need to check if she has a record of prostitution to know.

"Reilly Cross."

"Show me your ID."

"My ID is in the bag." The woman slowly sat up, opened her bag, and handed over a driver's license to Blackie.

Blackie took the driver's license, looked at it, and was momentarily stunned.

"Riley Criss." The picture on the driver's license was unbelievably of a Latin male.

"Is this your ID? Lift your head."

The brown-haired woman slowly lifted her head, and everyone finally saw his features.

"You're actually a man!" Blackie disgustedly tossed away the license and looked at Brett Martel, "Your wife's worried about your safety at home while you're here fooling around with a man at a motel. Do you think that's fair to her?"

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.