Chương 2
“I don’t know.”
Across the room, Adrian shifted his weight.
Mara looked up.
“Don’t.”
“I haven’t done anything.”
“You moved.”
“My foot went numb.”
“That’s unfortunate.”
His mouth tightened.
The nearest uniformed officer, a young man Mara had not met, hid the beginning of a smile by looking down at his notebook.
Mara felt Lily breathe against her side. The child’s hand had migrated from the jacket to the ivory bow at Mara’s blouse, where she pinched the silk as though testing whether it was real.
A woman pushed through the circle of guests.
She wore a white coat over a dark green evening dress, and her hospital identification swung from a blue lanyard. Mid-fifties, silver-blond hair, red-framed glasses. Mara recognized her from the case file: Dr. Celia Wynn, chief operating officer of St. Aldwyn Children’s Hospital.
“What in God’s name is happening?” Wynn asked.
Her gaze went first to Adrian, then to the badge, then to the child.
Not the bruise. The child.
Mara noticed the order.
“Dr. Wynn,” Mara said. “Where is Elena Hart?”
Wynn’s expression changed so slightly that most people would have missed it. Her eyes paused, and one hand smoothed the front of her coat.
“Elena is one of our infusion nurses. Why?”
“Her daughter is asking for her.”
Wynn looked down at Lily.
“Oh, sweetheart.”
Lily moved closer to Mara.
Wynn stopped two steps away.
“I was told Elena left the event.”
“By whom?”
“Our staffing director, I believe.”
“Name.”
“I don’t appreciate your tone.”
“You’ll appreciate it more when you remember there’s a missing mother and an injured seven-year-old on your ballroom floor.”
Wynn drew in a controlled breath. “Martin Graves. Staffing administration.”
“Find him.”
“I’m not your employee.”
“No,” Mara said. “You’re the executive responsible for the building in which a child has just accused your largest sponsor of threatening her.”
A whisper moved through the donors.
Adrian’s public-relations director lowered her phone.
Wynn looked toward the crowd, and Mara saw the calculation land. The gala had raised nearly six million dollars before dinner. Adrian Vale’s foundation had pledged two of it. The room was full of board members, reporters invited to cover the hospital’s expansion, and physicians whose photographs appeared on billboards across the city.
Wynn nodded to a security supervisor.
“Find Martin.”
The supervisor did not move immediately.
Mara watched Wynn look at him.
Only then did he go.
Lily was taken to a private hospitality suite adjoining the ballroom. Mara walked beside the stretcher while the girl insisted she did not need it. The hotel medic compromised by letting her sit upright, her white shoes dangling above the floor. Mara kept her hand on Lily’s shoulder until a female patrol officer and a pediatric resident were inside the room.
Adrian was escorted to a separate conference room. He had not been formally arrested. Mara had enough to detain him while officers established what had occurred, but not enough yet to charge him with assault, intimidation, possession, theft, or anything connected to the vial.
His attorney arrived before the conference room door closed.
Graham Sloane was small, gray-haired, and so neatly dressed he made Adrian’s tuxedo look rented. He held no briefcase. He greeted the ranking patrol sergeant by name, glanced once at Mara, and went directly inside.
That told her Adrian had called him before raising his hands.
Or the public-relations director had.
Either way, the machine around Adrian Vale was already moving.
Lieutenant Daniel Ross entered the hospitality suite twelve minutes later with his tie crooked and rain darkening the shoulders of his coat.
He looked at Lily, then at Mara.
“Hallway.”
“I’m staying.”
“Voss.”
Lily’s fingers curled around Mara’s wrist.
Ross saw it. His eyes closed for half a beat.
“Three feet into the hallway,” he said. “Door open.”
Mara crouched beside Lily.
“I’m right there. You’ll still see me.”
Lily considered this with grave suspicion, then released her.
Ross waited until Mara crossed the threshold.
“What happened to not breaking cover?” he asked.
“A child was injured.”
“We had officers in the building.”
“Not in the room.”
“We had eyes on Vale. We had a warrant request going in Monday. We had three months of financial work and eleven weeks of you pretending to care about donor-retention strategies.”
“Margaret Vosper cared deeply.”
“Don’t.”
Mara looked through the open door. The pediatric resident shone a small light near Lily’s pupils. Lily followed it without complaint.
Ross lowered his voice.
“Did he hit her?”
“I don’t know.”
“Did you see him touch her?”
“No.”
“Did anyone?”
“I don’t know.”
“Then what do you have?”
“A terrified child, a missing nurse, a vial from a batch we’ve been tracking, and a case at Vale’s feet.”
“You touched the case?”
“No.”
“The vial?”
“No.”
“Did he claim them?”
“No.”
“Did Lily?”
“Not yet.”
Ross rubbed his forehead. “And thirty people recorded you blowing an undercover operation in front of half the hospital board.”
“She was bleeding.”
“It’s a scratch.”
Mara looked at him.
Ross regretted the sentence immediately. His shoulders dropped.
“I know,” he said. “That came out wrong.”
“It came out accurately.”
“You think I wanted you to leave her there?”
“I think you’re angry about the case.”
“I’m angry because Vale’s lawyers will say you staged the confrontation, frightened a child, and contaminated a charity event to rescue an investigation that wasn’t producing fast enough.”
“They can say it.”
“They’ll say it online by midnight.”
Mara’s phone vibrated inside her jacket. Then again. Then three times in quick succession.
Ross glanced toward the sound.
“Midnight was optimistic.”
The security supervisor returned without Martin Graves.
He brought a hotel manager, two key cards, and the information that Graves had left through the employee entrance at 8:41 p.m., six minutes before Lily was seen falling. His car remained in the garage. His phone went straight to voicemail.
“Where did he last use his access badge?” Mara asked.
The security supervisor hesitated.
May you like
Wynn stood behind him now. “Answer her.”
“Administrative level. Fourteenth floor.”
