[Later That Night] [Aurelia Bay Resort]
Aurelia Bay Resort was built across a private stretch of land where palm trees, glass walls, and white stone terraces created a serene atmosphere. The main hotel rose above the landscape in several curved sections, each floor lined with private balconies and golden lights that illuminated the surroundings.
Tonight, the resort had been closed to the public for an exclusive celebration.
Hollywood producer Marcus Vale had rented the entire rooftop garden and two luxury floors to celebrate the success of his latest film, Kingdom of Ash. The fantasy epic had dominated the box office for three consecutive weeks, and Marcus had decided that ordinary success deserved an unnecessarily expensive party.
By midnight, the rooftop had been filled with actors, musicians, directors, models, studio executives, and champagne.
Selena Gomez had performed two songs near the pool earlier that evening. The Weeknd had arrived shortly afterward with a small group from his label. Margot Robbie had spent most of the night speaking with several producers near the private bar, while Zac Efron and Nina Dobrev had been seen laughing beside the dance floor.
Alexandra Daddario had attended as one of the stars from Marcus Vale’s next planned film.
Now the music had stopped, the guests had been separated into different sections of the resort, and the rooftop garden had become a homicide scene.
Red and blue lights flashed across the lower entrance as police vehicles crowded the circular driveway. Uniformed officers guarded every stairwell and elevator while detectives moved through the party area, photographing broken glasses, abandoned phones, and the blood surrounding Marcus Vale’s body.
The producer lay beside the edge of the infinity pool.
His white dinner jacket had turned dark red around the chest, and one hand remained wrapped around a torn piece of black fabric. A champagne bottle rested several feet away with blood across its base, though the deep wound beneath his collarbone suggested the bottle had not killed him.
A narrow blade had been driven directly into his chest.
Chloe stepped out of her car and pulled her jacket tighter around herself.
She showed her badge at the entrance before walking through the lobby.
The resort’s floor was crowded with frightened guests, security personnel, police officers, and assistants making urgent calls to managers, lawyers, and publicists. Several celebrities had already hidden their faces behind sunglasses, baseball caps, or scarves despite being indoors after midnight.
Chloe crossed toward the elevators just as the doors opened.
Two uniformed officers walked out with Nick Hofmeister between them.
His hands were cuffed behind his back, and his expensive camera hung from an evidence strap carried by another officer. His shirt was wrinkled, his lip had been split, and his usual smug expression had been replaced by anger.
Nick looked toward Chloe as the officers guided him past.
“This is bullshit,” he snapped. “I didn’t kill anyone. I was doing my job.”
Chloe watched him closely.
Nick Hofmeister was one of the most aggressive celebrity photographers in Los Angeles. He had been arrested several times for trespassing, harassment, reckless driving, and violating restraining orders, though every charge had eventually disappeared beneath technicalities, expensive lawyers, or witnesses suddenly changing their statements. And he has a bitter history with Chloe. Years ago, he crossed a line by crashing her cop father’s funeral to take photos of a devastated, 19-year-old Chloe, earning him her permanent disdain.
The officers took him toward the front entrance while Chloe entered the elevator.
When the doors opened on the rooftop floor, she stepped into a wide hallway lined with windows overlooking the ocean. Party decorations still covered the walls, including framed posters of Kingdom of Ash and large gold letters congratulating Marcus Vale on another successful film.
Several officers stood near the open doors leading into the rooftop garden.
Chloe walked past them and immediately saw Dan near the pool, speaking with a crime-scene photographer. He wore gloves and held a small evidence bag containing a silver cuff link stained with blood.
Dan noticed her before she reached him.
His expression hardened as he removed one glove and walked toward her.
“What are you doing here? You know you’re not allowed on the field without medical clearance.”
Chloe stopped a few feet away from him and glanced toward Marcus Vale’s body.
“Tell me you managed to get some evidence this time.”
“We have a couple of eyewitnesses. Nick was searching for something on the victim when one of the guests caught him. Anyway, don’t worry, he isn’t getting out this time. So take it easy and let me handle it,” Dan said.
“Did anyone see him attack Vale?” She asked.
“No one saw the murder,” Dan replied. “The power went out for less than two minutes. When the emergency lights came on, Vale was dead beside the pool. Nick was kneeling over him with one hand inside his jacket.”
Chloe’s gaze moved across the rooftop.
The party area had several possible entry points. Two glass doors connected it to the hotel corridor, while a private staircase led toward the suites below. Another narrow path ran along the edge of the building toward a service elevator used by staff.
“Where was security during the blackout?”
“Most of them were dealing with a fight near the downstairs lounge,” Dan said. “Someone leaked the location of the party, and photographers started gathering outside. Nick somehow got through the service entrance.”
Chloe crouched near the victim without crossing the evidence markers. Marcus Vale’s face had frozen in an expression of shock. A thin trail of blood ran from the corner of his mouth, and his expensive watch was missing from his wrist.
She looked at the torn fabric still trapped in his hand.
“That didn’t come from Nick’s clothes.”
“We know,” Dan replied. “Nick was wearing a brown leather jacket when security caught him. The fabric looks like silk or satin.”
Chloe’s eyes moved toward the guests waiting beneath the covered section of the rooftop garden. Several women wore black dresses, and at least three men had arrived in dark formal jackets.
Dan followed her gaze.
“We’re checking everyone’s clothes. The guests were told they couldn’t leave until they gave statements.”
“Who found the body?”
“Alexandra Daddario,” Dan answered. “She was near the pool when the lights came back. She saw Nick kneeling over Vale and screamed for security. Nick tried to run, but she grabbed him, and there was a bit of a struggle before the security showed up."
Chloe spotted Alexandra seated near the outdoor bar. Her dark blue evening dress was wet near the bottom, and a small cut marked the side of her right hand. A female officer sat beside her while another took notes.
A few feet away, Selena Gomez stood with her manager, looking pale and visibly shaken. Margot Robbie spoke quietly with one of the detectives while Zac Efron waited near the railing with his arms folded across his chest. The Weeknd had been moved into a private lounge downstairs with several other musicians who had been close to the stage when the power failed.
"Anyway, leave it to us," Dan said.
Chloe looked toward Marcus Vale again.
Something about the scene felt arranged.
Nick had a long criminal history and a reason to sneak into the party, though stabbing a famous producer in the middle of a crowded rooftop made little sense. A professional photographer depended on getting close to celebrities without being noticed. Murdering one would destroy the career he had spent years building.
Dan’s attention shifted past Chloe toward the glass doors that led to the stairs.
His expression immediately changed.
“And take your partner with you.”
Chloe looked confused.
“Partner?! What?”
Then she heard Lucifer’s voice from behind her.
“Your uniform is delightfully authoritative, Officer. Although I must say, the handcuffs would look considerably better somewhere more private.”
Chloe closed her eyes for a moment and sighed. 'Arrggg! Him again!'
She turned back.
Lucifer stood beside a young female officer near the glass doors, wearing a dark red suit and an expression of effortless satisfaction. The officer was smiling despite clearly attempting to remain professional. One hand rested on her utility belt while Lucifer leaned slightly closer, holding her attention as if the active homicide scene around them had become irrelevant.
The officer touched the front of his coat while checking for weapons, though the search had already lasted far longer than necessary.
Lucifer looked down at her hand and smiled.
“You may continue, darling. Thorough police work should always be encouraged.”
The officer’s face warmed slightly.
Chloe walked toward them. “What’re you doing here?”
Lucifer looked at her, and his smile widened the moment he saw her.
“Detective,” he said, sounding genuinely pleased. “You disappeared from Lux with the expression of a woman who had found something interesting. Naturally, I followed.”
“You followed a police vehicle across Los Angeles?”
“Of course,” Lucifer replied. “You drive surprisingly fast for someone recovering from a gunshot wound.”
Chloe glanced toward the female officer, who quickly stepped back and adjusted her uniform. "Really? On an active crime scene?"
"Sorry," The officer apologized and gave Lucifer a cute smile before walking away.
Lucifer waved his hand.
Chloe took hold of his sleeve and pulled him away before he could continue. “You can’t walk into a homicide scene because you followed me from a nightclub.”
“Apparently, I can,” Lucifer replied as he allowed her to guide him toward the elevator. “Your charming colleague was very accommodating.”
“This is serious,” Chloe said, keeping her voice low. “A man was murdered while surrounded by hundreds of witnesses, and the most obvious suspect was caught searching the body.”
She pressed the elevator button.
Lucifer looked at the producer’s body, the knife wound, and the torn black fabric clenched inside his hand. “Marcus Vale,” he said quietly. “Producer, serial adulterer, professional credit thief, and a man with enough enemies to fill this entire resort.”
Chloe stopped walking.
“You knew him?” She asked.
Lucifer shifted his attention to Chloe.
“I attended two of his more extravagant parties,” he said. “They were filled with cocaine, alcohol, and enough naked people to make ancient Rome appear painfully conservative. His wife caught him during one particularly energetic orgy while he was receiving enthusiastic attention from a Russian pornstar and her remarkably flexible...”
'You gotta be kidding me,' Chloe raised one hand and stopped him before he could continue. “Stop. I don’t need to know his sexual fetishes.”
Lucifer’s expression fell with genuine disappointment. “But the fun part was just starting.”
The elevator's door opened and Chloe dragged Lucifer in.
"Are we leaving so soon?" He said.
"Yes, we are," She nodded as she pressed the ground floor button.
The door closed...
Alexandra briefly saw Lucifer's face. 'Wait! He's that guy from this morning. Is he a cop? Humm... I don't think he's a cop. Damn it! If not for this mess, I'd have... Haaa...'
"What about the case? We need to solve it," Lucifer said. He really wanted to meet the celebs, female ones, of course.
"First of all, you don't have to worry about the case. Second of all, there is no 'we' in this. I appreciate your help with the last case, and I'm really thankful you saved my life. But you're a civilian, and you can't keep following me and breaking God knows how many laws," Chloe sighed.
...
[Outside]
Chloe stopped at the entrance. Her eyes were on Nick, who was sitting in the police car.
"Is that our killer or suspect?" Lucifer asked. He knew who Nick was and what he did. And regardless of his crime, Lucifer made up his mind to give him a good lesson that he would remember for the rest of his life.
"Suspect," Chloe replied.
Lucifer looked at Chloe's expression. She was conflicted. On one hand, she wanted Nick to rot in jail, but on the other hand, she couldn't possibly let him rot in jail for a crime he didn't commit.
"I think he is more than just a suspect," Lucifer said in a soft tone. "I can see anger in your eyes, but there's something else... You don't think he's our killer, do you?"
Chloe shook her head. "No."