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just get out of here and leave this mess for the police. I scanned the small room and spotted his wrinkled gray suit jacket thrown over the back of a chair along with his other clothes. Acting on instinct, I went over to the suit jacket and patted the pockets. There was a keychain. I pulled it out and among a bunch of larger keys, I picked out a small one about the size of a briefcase key. Curiosity burned a hole in my mind. It almost seemed like the man was reaching for it, even in the agony of death. What could be in the briefcase that was so important he would reach for it in his death?
     
    I moved with great stealth, surprising myself at how steady my hands were now. Bingo . The key matched the lock. I gasped as the lid sprung open, and I touched my fingertips to my mouth to stop any words from coming out.
     
    Oh my fucking god . Bundles of hundred dollar bills filled the case to the brim. This was two ‘firsts’ in one night. The first time seeing a dead body and now the first time seeing this much money. I slapped the case shut and locked it, staring blankly into the room. Thoughts rushed through my mind like wildfire. This much money could change my life. Hell, this much money could change anyone’s life. And Grammy’s too. For the last five years, Grandma had suffered from failing kidneys, but couldn’t afford the medication and the dialysis needed to make her life bearable. This could pay for the expensive tests needed to pinpoint exactly how to best treat her and maybe even make her able to walk again.
     
    I heard the sirens outside closing in and without hesitation, I jumped to my feet to beat it out of Room 1215 of the Greymore Hotel. I took a quick step toward the door then paused. I had to get down to the front desk to let in the police and paramedics. On pure impulse, I turned back, grabbed the briefcase and exited the room, locking the door behind me.
     
    My heart was beating out of my chest as I rode down the elevator to get to the back room and hide the briefcase before the paramedics would get here. The stainless steel elevator doors opened with a whoosh into the lobby. Alternating blue and red lights illuminated the area, pulsing in through the glass door and windows. I could see the movement of the EMT’s as they opened the back of the ambulance and removed a gurney.
     
    Fuck, they’re already here.
     
    My pulse was now pounding at about a hundred and fifty beats per minute. I was sure that the sound of my heart could be heard echoing off the lobby walls. I sprinted into the ladies restroom next to the elevator. Lucky for me, the plumbing system at the old Greymore Hotel was on the fritz again. One of the stalls was locked with an 'Out of Order' sign on the door. I entered the adjacent stall to the one that was locked. Standing on the seat of the toilet, I carefully hoisted the briefcase over the adjoining partition as far as my arms could reach and lowered it down into the locked stall. I aimed for the closed toilet seat and dropped the suitcase, praying that it would land on the seat. Not the best hiding place, but hopefully no one would enter before I could store the forbidden fruit someplace else. I exited the stall, stopped in front of the mirror and smoothed a lock of dark displaced hair. I put on my best poker face, steadied my riveting heartbeat, then flung the door open and strode out, ready to answer all the questions I was sure the police would be asking me.
     
    “Paramedics. Anybody here?” A husky voice called from the lobby.
     
    Two men were entering the building, and the ambulance was parked just outside the door. They entered with an air of confidence and directness that led me to believe they had been here several times before. Both of them were dressed in the typical blue uniform that the emergency rescue people wore in Manhattan. My head snapped to the right as I caught myself checking out the taller man. He looked like he was straight out of a men’s fashion magazine.