Part 6
“You do not know what else is present.”
“There is nothing else.”
Ward’s eyes narrowed.
“How do you know?”
He stopped.
Sloane closed her eyes briefly.
Claire saw it.
So did Everett.
Julian recovered.
“I mean no one has alleged anything else.”
Ward turned toward the dark case.
“No one has opened that.”
“It belongs to the hotel.”
Paula Stein shook her head.
“No.”
Julian looked at her.
She added, “It is not ours.”
Miles Corbin stood near a mirrored column ten feet from the service corridor. Until then, he had remained almost invisible behind a group of guests.
Ward looked toward him.
“Mr. Corbin.”
He did not respond.
“Step away from the wall.”
Miles moved slowly.
His black tuxedo looked slightly too tight at the shoulders. Sweat had gathered along his hairline.
Julian spoke.
“He works for me. He has no involvement in this.”
Ward glanced at him.
“I asked him.”
Miles stopped in the open space between tables.
“Do you recognize the case?”
“No.”
“Have you been near the cabinet tonight?”
“I don’t remember.”
“That is different from no.”
“I’ve been everywhere. It is a wedding.”
Claire stared at him.
“You stood beside it during the toast.”
Miles looked at her.
“I might have.”
“You watched me walk toward it.”
“I watch guests. It’s part of my job.”
“You told Sloane I was asking questions.”
His eyes moved to Julian.
The glance was fast.
It was enough.
Ward noticed.
“What questions?” she asked.
Claire answered.
“About shell companies, a communications report, and why the car was moved to the private garage before the reception ended.”
Everett looked at Rusk.
“The car?”
Rusk touched his cuff, listened, then spoke.
“A black sedan registered to Cross Holdings was moved from valet to the underground service lane at eight-seventeen.”
Julian said, “We changed travel plans.”
“Destination?” Ward asked.
“Home.”
“Which home?”
“That is not relevant.”
Claire answered for him.
“A property in Connecticut held by a trust I did not know existed.”
Everett’s face remained still, but his eyes altered.
Julian looked at Claire.
“You knew.”
“I learned tonight.”
“You went through my phone.”
“I saw the transport schedule when you handed it to me.”
“That was confidential.”
“It listed me as a dependent transfer.”
Naomi whispered, “Jesus.”
Claire held the white evening bag tighter against her body.
Julian’s voice became softer.
“You were tired. We planned to leave through a quieter route.”
“You told me we were going to Italy.”
“The flight changed.”
“You told me the Connecticut property belonged to a friend.”
“It is managed through a trust.”
“You told me I had signed only an occupancy acknowledgment.”
“You did.”
“What else did I sign?”
Julian looked around the room.
“This is not the place.”
“It is the only place you cannot close a door.”
The sentence landed.
Julian’s face hardened.
Everett took one step forward.
Claire lifted a hand without looking at him.
He stopped.
She faced Julian alone.
“Did you plan to take me out through the garage after the room locked down?”
“No.”
“Then why was the car moved?”
“For privacy.”
“Why was Sloane preparing reporters?”
“She was monitoring them.”
“Why did the cabinet camera go dark?”
“I don’t control hotel cameras.”
“Why did you know the object was fake?”
“I guessed.”
“Why did you tell me not to open the drawer?”
“Because I knew your father was planning something.”
“Then why didn’t you tell me?”
Julian opened his mouth.
No answer came quickly enough.
The room did not turn against him all at once. Real crowds rarely did. Some guests looked convinced. Others looked uncertain. Several older men near the bar whispered that Everett had always hated Julian. A woman from Julian’s side of the family shook her head and said Claire had seemed fragile during dinner.
Public opinion moved in fragments.
Claire heard enough to understand that no revelation would make everyone agree.
She had spent years avoiding scenes because she believed a scene was dangerous only when misunderstood.
Now she saw misunderstanding was not a temporary problem. It was the condition of being watched.
Ward spoke quietly to Rusk.
“Bring the team in.”
Rusk touched his cuff.
“Stand by.”
The ballroom lights flickered once.
Every conversation stopped.
A low electronic pulse sounded near the cabinet.
Claire turned toward it.
The pulse came again.
Ward’s voice sharpened.
“Everyone step back from the east wall.”
Guests moved quickly but not cleanly. Chairs scraped. A woman caught her heel in the hem of her gown. Two men reached for the same elderly guest and nearly pulled him in opposite directions.
The world did not become orderly because authority asked.
Rusk spoke into his cuff.
“Network status?”
A voice answered in his earpiece.
“Attempted handshake on ballroom control. Source local.”
“Isolated?”
“Partially.”
Ward looked at the dark case.
“What is inside?”
No one answered.
She turned to Julian.
“Mr. Cross.”
“I don’t know.”
“Miles?”
He stared at the floor.
Sloane said, “My client will not answer questions without counsel.”
Ward looked at her.
“Which client?”
Sloane remained silent.
The electronic pulse sounded a third time.
Julian’s eyes moved toward the main doors.
Claire saw fear enter his face for the first time.
Not fear of Everett.
Not fear of embarrassment.
Fear that something he had arranged was no longer under his control.
“What did they tell you the device would do?” Claire asked.
Julian looked at her.
“Nothing.”
“That is not an answer.”
“I don’t know what device you mean.”
“The one in the case.”
“There may be no device.”
“It just made a sound.”
“That could be part of the hotel.”
Rusk said, “It isn’t.”
Julian’s breathing quickened.
Miles spoke without lifting his head.
“It was supposed to interrupt the network.”
Julian turned toward him.
“Be quiet.”
Ward moved closer.
“What was supposed to interrupt the network?”
Miles looked at the dark case.
“A relay unit. Low power.”
“Who installed it?”
“I don’t know.”
“Who delivered it?”
“I don’t know.”
May you like
Julian’s voice became cold.
“You are confused.”
