It was dark. Lawrence had decided to head back to the hotel earlier than planned, to try and put the thoughts of another murder out of his mind. The lobby was quiet, and he could hear his footsteps on the stone floor as he walked. It was not that late, so he as surprised to find that nobody was around. He stepped into the outdated elevator at the far end of the hall. The doors clicked shut behind him, and he pressed the button for the third floor. There was a peculiar whining sound coming from the compartment, almost as if it was struggling to get free. Finally, after what seemed like an age, Lawrence reached his destination. He sighed. Did he want to be here? This case was becoming darker by the minute. There was no way to protect the next victim, whoever that may be. They were helpless; at the killer's mercy.
The elevator doors opened again with the same monotone click. At first Lawrence thought he was alone, then a figure came out of the shadows. It was a woman. Lawrence could not see her face, but she draped her arms around him and pushed him into his hotel room door. He struggled to get his keys out of his pocket, but she got out her own and pushed him through the doors to the room next door. Eventually he managed to open the door. He still had no idea who this strange woman was. iHe followed her into the pitch black room, and he could feel what he thought was satin against his skin. Lawrence reached for the light switch, but the woman brushed his hand away. She did not speak. She kissed him lightly on the lips, and they both collapsed onto the bed.
The next morning, Lawrence awoke, dazed and confused. The sunlight bounced off the walls and into his eyes. Last night was a blur; all he could clearly remember was getting out of the elevator and then...what? The woman...who was she? She lay beside him on the bed, her back towards him. Did he really do what he thought he had done? How could he? He didn't even know who the woman was. Her long chocolate brown hair hung down her back and across the pillow. If only he could see her face...But no. He mustn't. This never happened. He was here on business, and as soon as she woke up, he would send her away. After all, it wasn't his fault. She had practically forced herself on him. He got up and made himself a strong coffee.
Halfway through his coffee, Lawrence saw the woman turn and open her eyes. Those hazel eyes, they looked familiar...
'Jesus Christ! Beth! What the hell are you doing here?' he spluttered. For it was Beth Doherty, his crush in training, who lay on the hotel room bed.
'Well, I saw the way you looked at me in the office. Don't try and tell me you didn't want it too.' she smiled coquettishly.
'Yes, but...' he trailed off. He couldn't deny it. This was exactly the place he had wanted to be, all those years ago. But he had moved on, and obviously, so had she. 'For God's sake, you have a husband!'
'Well,' she sighed, 'He bores me, and you are so much more than him...' she smiled again, 'Come back to bed.'
Lawrence knew he could not win. He could either throw Beth out, resulting in much scorn from his fellow officers, or succumb to her demands and the guilt that came with it. He threw his mug into the sink and crawled back into bed.