Chương 6
Her phone buzzed again.
This time Lewis called.
Mara answered.
“Where are you?”
His breathing was loud over the car speaker.
“Staff dining room.”
“With him?”
Damian could hear enough to understand.
“Yes.”
Lewis was silent.
Then he said, “Put me on speaker.”
Mara did.
“Mr. Cross.”
“Lewis.”
“I need you to listen before you call anybody else.”
Damian sat straighter.
“Go ahead.”
“I found duplicate vendor accounts in March.”
“For what?”
“Event services. Wine. Temporary staffing. Floral. Art transport.”
“How much?”
“I don’t know the total.”
“That’s not like you.”
“No.”
Lewis’s voice cracked slightly on the last word.
Mara had never heard that from him.
He sounded old suddenly, though he was only fifty-two.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because I did.”
Damian’s face changed.
“What?”
“I sent a report to your family office in April.”
“To who?”
“Graham Vale.”
Damian’s eyes narrowed.
Mara knew the name.
Everyone did.
Graham Vale had managed Damian’s personal financial affairs for nearly a decade. He was the man who appeared twice a month carrying no bag, wearing the same blue suits, and speaking to staff as if people who worked indoors were pieces of architecture.
Damian said, “What happened?”
“Graham told me the vendor structure had been approved for confidentiality reasons.”
“What confidentiality reasons?”
“He wouldn’t say.”
“And you accepted that?”
“No. I kept copies.”
“Why didn’t you come directly to me?”
Lewis was silent.
The car noise grew louder for a moment.
Then he said, “Because Vanessa told me Graham had already briefed you.”
Damian closed his eyes.
Lewis continued.
“She knew I’d asked questions. After that, Janie was fired, the driver lost shifts, and Vanessa started making comments about loyalty.”
Mara felt a slow chill.
“What comments?”
Lewis hesitated.
“She said people who made problems for the family office wouldn’t keep working for the family.”
Damian stood.
The chair legs scraped against the floor.
Mara flinched.
He saw and stopped moving.
“Sorry.”
He stayed standing.
“Lewis, where are you?”
“Ten minutes out.”
“Come through the security gate. Don’t call Graham.”
“I wasn’t going to.”
“Don’t call Vanessa.”
“I definitely wasn’t going to.”
Despite everything, Mara almost smiled again.
Lewis had never been funny on purpose either.
Damian ended the call.
For several seconds he stared at the wall.
Mara watched him.
“You said you knew this was planned.”
He looked at her.
“When I came in?”
“Yes.”
Damian sat again.
“My security app alerted me that three interior cameras were disabled at six forty-two.”
Mara’s skin prickled.
“Which cameras?”
“East service hallway, staff entrance corridor, lower staircase.”
“Who disabled them?”
“Vanessa’s administrative credential.”
Mara stared at him.
“She said the system was malfunctioning.”
“That’s what she told security. The system wasn’t malfunctioning.”
“Why didn’t security turn them back on?”
“They tried remotely. Her credential had put the affected zones into privacy mode.”
Mara knew the setting. It was used when certain guests requested no interior recording.
“Can she do that?”
“She could.”
“Past tense?”
“I revoked the credential from the car when the alert came through.”
Mara looked toward the door.
“So she disabled cameras before she accused me of stealing.”
“Yes.”
“And then somebody put a bracelet in my locker.”
“Yes.”
“You knew that when you walked in.”
“I knew she’d disabled cameras. I didn’t know about the bracelet.”
“Why were you coming home?”
“My meeting ended early. I changed flights.”
“Just that?”
“Just that.”
It was the first coincidence in the entire disaster, and Mara hated it.
If Damian’s meeting had run another hour, Vanessa would have finished whatever she was doing.
Mara tried not to imagine what finished looked like.
A staged discovery.
Police called.
A terminated employee escorted from the property.
Maybe a photograph of the bracelet beside her lunch bag.
Maybe nothing as dramatic as police. Maybe only an internal accusation designed to make everything Mara said afterward sound vindictive.
A thief complaining about invoices.
A disgruntled former employee.
A woman caught with jewelry in her locker.
“Why me?” Mara asked.
Damian did not answer because the question was not for him.
Mara looked at the table.
She thought about the wine log.
The candles.
The delivery records.
Then something else.
Three days earlier Vanessa had come into the pantry while Mara was entering linen counts.
She had asked an odd question.
Not about inventory.
Not about the house.
“Do you back this stuff up?”
Mara had assumed she meant the household spreadsheet.
She had said yes.
Vanessa had asked where.
Mara looked up now.
“My records.”
Damian leaned forward.
“What?”
“She asked about my records.”
“When?”
“Thursday.”
“What records?”
“I keep receiving photos.”
“For deliveries?”
Mara nodded.
The habit had begun at a hotel years earlier after a manager blamed her for signing for twelve expensive bathrobes when only ten arrived. Since then, whenever Mara received anything unusually expensive, she photographed the opened boxes beside the packing slip.
It was not a sophisticated system.
Most of the photos were boring enough to make anyone regret looking through her phone.
Towels.
Wine labels.
Flower crates.
Silver polish.
Damian said, “Where are they?”
“Cloud backup.”
“Did Vanessa know that?”
“I told her.”
“When?”
“Thursday.”
Mara’s heartbeat changed.
She could almost see the conversation again.
Vanessa leaning against the pantry counter.
Vanessa pretending not to care.
Do you back this stuff up?
Mara had said, Automatically.
“Then Friday she asked me to sign the wine log,” Mara said.
Damian’s expression hardened.
“And you refused.”
“Yes.”
“Tonight she accused you of theft.”
“Yes.”
Damian reached for his phone.
Mara put a hand over it.
He stopped.
It was the first time she had ever touched anything belonging to him without permission.
They both looked at her hand.
Mara withdrew it.
“Don’t call Graham yet.”
Damian’s eyes narrowed.
“Why?”
“Because if Lewis told him in April and Vanessa knew about it, maybe he warned her.”
“I’m aware of that possibility.”
“Then what happens when you call him?”
May you like
Damian looked at the phone.
Mara could see the part of him accustomed to immediate action fighting the part forced, for once, to wait.
