Chương 6
Tonight his voice came from somewhere quiet.
“Clara, I got a call from a woman named Rochelle Kent.”
Clara closed her eyes.
“Who is she?”
“Public relations for Hale. She says there was an incident during rehearsal.”
“What did she say?”
“That you accessed confidential files and became physically distressed when confronted.”
Helena held out her hand for the phone. Clara turned away.
“Did she ask you to cancel me?”
“No. She said she was notifying venues in case you made accusations involving their businesses.”
“That is asking.”
Simon sighed.
“I don’t know what happened.”
“I asked Victor Hale why his staff wasn’t receiving service charges. He threatened me, forced me to kneel, and told me to apologize.”
Silence.
“Jesus,” Simon said.
“There’s video.”
“Of the whole thing?”
“Enough.”
Another pause.
“I have a dining room full of people on Thursday,” he said. “You understand that.”
Clara did.
Simon was not cruel. He had a mortgage, seventeen employees, and a restaurant that had nearly closed twice. He liked Clara because she arrived early and never complained when customers requested songs she hated. Liking her did not make him brave.
“Are you canceling me?”
“Just this week. Until I know what’s happening.”
“Of course.”
“Clara—”
She ended the call.
Helena said, “That was retaliation.”
“That was fear.”
“They’re often the same mechanism.”
Clara slipped the phone into her purse.
“I’m going home.”
“I’ll drive you.”
“No.”
“You shouldn’t take the train dressed like this.”
Clara looked down at the champagne satin.
“Why? Someone might think I had a bad evening?”
Marcus turned his face toward the revolving door, but not before Clara saw sympathy in his eyes. She resented him for it.
Helena took a folded black coat from Marcus and offered it to Clara.
Clara recognized it as his.
She accepted the coat without thanking either of them.
Her apartment was on the fourth floor of a brick building above a dry cleaner. The radiator did scream, though only when the heat first came on. Clara had learned to kick the valve without getting out of bed.
She slept for forty minutes, woke with her cheek pressed against a page of sheet music, and found fourteen new messages.
Two clients canceled upcoming events. One asked whether she had been arrested. A wedding planner wrote that she was “pausing referrals pending clarity.” An unknown account sent a grainy photograph of Clara kneeling beside the piano. The image had been cropped so Victor’s hand was outside the frame.
The caption read: Pianist has breakdown after being caught stealing private hotel records.
Clara sat on the edge of her bed wearing an old T-shirt and Marcus’s coat over her shoulders. Dawn had not yet reached the window. A garbage truck groaned in the street below.
The photograph spread while she watched.
A local hospitality gossip page posted it. Then a larger account repeated the claim, adding that Clara was “reportedly related to a controversial investigator targeting Hale Grand.” Someone found an old article about Helena reporting Ellis Wynn. Another found Clara’s website and copied her performance schedule into the comments.
She called Helena at 5:12.
Helena answered on the first ring.
“Are you safe?”
“Stop asking me that.”
“All right.”
“Someone leaked a picture.”
“I’ve seen it.”
“How?”
“Marcus monitors public mentions connected to active threats.”
“There are already hundreds of comments.”
“Do not respond yet.”
Clara stood and began pacing between the bed and the kitchenette.
“That is exactly what you would say.”
“Because we need to preserve the posts and identify the original source.”
“While everyone decides I’m a thief?”
“A rushed response can create inconsistencies they will exploit.”
“I’m not one of your witnesses.”
“No. You’re the person being accused.”
“So I should say what happened.”
“You should. But you should do it once, accurately, with counsel.”
“I can’t afford counsel.”
“I can.”
The radiator began knocking.
Clara kicked the valve harder than necessary.
“I’m not taking your money.”
“Then speak to the lawyer the new investigator assigns for witness coordination.”
“That lawyer represents the hotel’s process.”
“Correct, which is why you should not rely on them for personal advice.”
“You just told me to rely on them.”
“No. I told you to speak to them. Listening is not reliance.”
Clara pressed her fingers against her forehead.
“How do you live like this?”
“Poorly, some days.”
The answer disarmed her enough that she stopped pacing.
Helena continued, “The uncropped footage may rebut the photograph, but releasing it could expose Lila and the security employee who preserved it. We need to understand the consequences.”
“There is always a reason to wait when the truth is inconvenient.”
Helena was silent.
Clara regretted the sentence and meant it anyway.
“Send me every cancellation,” Helena said. “Keep the messages. Do not delete threats.”
“I know how phones work.”
“Yes,” Helena said. “You do.”
At nine, a courier delivered a letter from Hale Grand. Clara’s contract was terminated for misconduct, unauthorized access to confidential materials, disruption of a private event, and reputational harm. The hotel reserved all rights to seek damages.
A check was enclosed for half the remaining fee.
Clara left it on the counter.
At ten, she received an email from an attorney named Naomi Feld, who said she had been engaged through an independent witness-support fund and could speak with Clara without charge. Clara deleted the email, restored it from trash, then left it unread.
At eleven, Lila called from the protected hotel.
“Evan wants to meet.”
“No.”
“I didn’t say I was going.”
“You were about to.”
“He says he knows who copied the payroll records.”
Clara stood at the sink, holding a cereal bowl beneath running water.
“Did he put them under the piano?”
“He won’t tell me by text.”
“Tell Helena.”
“I don’t trust her.”
“Neither do I.”
“That is not reassuring.”
Clara shut off the water.
“Where does he want to meet?”
“A coffee shop near the hotel.”
“Public?”
“Yes.”
May you like
“Marcus should be nearby.”
Lila groaned. “I don’t want a bodyguard.”
