Chương 3
Mara watched her carefully. “There’s more.”
“Of course.”
“Voss Meridian has suspended tomorrow’s financing announcement.”
The hotel owed sixty-four million dollars on a loan that would reset in six weeks. Higher interest rates had already turned a manageable obligation into a monthly number Celeste sometimes wrote on paper simply to verify that she had not imagined it. The refinancing package from Voss Meridian was supposed to extend the debt, fund overdue room renovations, and keep Celeste’s family trust in nominal control.
Nominal was Arthur’s word.
In practice, Adrian’s firm would gain three board seats, approval rights over major expenses, and the power to force a sale if revenue targets were missed.
Celeste had spent four months negotiating limitations into the agreement.
Daniel would have refused it.
Daniel had also left behind deferred maintenance, two undisclosed vendor disputes, and a habit of treating optimism as an accounting category.
“Did Arthur know they were suspending?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“And he wanted to stop me before I left the ballroom.”
“I think he wanted you to apologize.”
“For removing Adrian?”
“For doing it publicly.”
Celeste looked at the cold tea on the counter.
Mara opened the laptop. “We need a statement before morning.”
“My daughter was knocked down by a man who then insulted her.”
“That is emotionally accurate and legally adventurous.”
“It’s on video.”
“Part of it is on video. The angle doesn’t show whether he deliberately pulled or reached for the ribbon. People online have already chosen what they believe, but lawyers are less imaginative.”
Celeste rubbed the bridge of her nose. Her diamond earrings felt suddenly heavy.
“What do you recommend?”
“Say Lily is recovering. Say the hotel is reviewing the incident. Thank the guests and staff who assisted. Don’t characterize Adrian’s intent.”
“He characterized it himself.”
“Yes, which is why we should let him keep talking.”
Mara turned the screen toward her.
The draft was twelve lines long and managed not to say that a grown man had caused a seven-year-old to fall.
Celeste read it twice.
Then she deleted the sentence expressing gratitude to Mr. Voss for his concern.
Mara nodded. “I put that in so you could have the pleasure.”
At one fifteen, Marcus called from the security office.
“The police aren’t taking the box,” he said. “They say it isn’t evidence of a crime unless you’re making a report.”
“I haven’t decided.”
“They want to know whether Mr. Voss was asked to leave before we touched him.”
“He was.”
“Good. We have audio from the entry camera.”
“Do we have the ballroom?”
“Several cameras. The central floor has a blind area because of the hanging floral installation. I’m reviewing now.”
“Don’t send anything outside the hotel.”
“I won’t.”
“And don’t open the box.”
There was a pause.
“Ms. Rowan, the ribbon’s torn near the lid. Something’s sticking out.”
“What?”
“A corner of an envelope.”
Celeste glanced at Mara.
“Put the entire box in the safe,” she said. “Log everyone who enters the room. We’ll open it with Mrs. Calder present.”
Marcus’s voice softened. “How’s Lily?”
“Sprain.”
“My wife’s asking too.”
“Tell her Lily’s okay.”
After the call, Celeste went to change. She stood in her closet for a long moment before realizing she had forgotten why she was there.
The silver gown had a faint gray mark at the knee from the ballroom floor. Daniel had chosen it from a designer’s private collection the year before he died. He had told Celeste it made her look dangerous. She had accused him of trying to justify the price.
She unfastened the zipper and hung the dress carefully rather than dropping it.
Grief had not made her sentimental in the expected ways. She had donated most of Daniel’s suits six months after the funeral because the sight of them irritated her. She had kept his cracked reading glasses in a kitchen drawer because he had once worn them through an entire breakfast before Lily informed him one lens was missing.
The drawer stuck when Celeste tried to close it.
She pushed harder.
It made a scraping sound loud enough to wake no one.
At six thirty, Lily appeared in the kitchen wearing dinosaur pajamas and the hospital wrap around her wrist.
“You’re supposed to stay in bed,” Celeste said.
“I was in bed for hours.”
“It’s morning.”
“That’s how hours work.”
Celeste turned from the coffee machine. “You’ve been spending too much time with Mara.”
Lily climbed onto a stool with difficulty. “Did everybody see me fall?”
Celeste did not lie to her daughter when the truth could be found on a classmate’s phone.
“A lot of people saw a video.”
“Did Sophie?”
“Probably.”
Lily stared at the marble countertop.
Celeste poured cereal into a bowl and added too much milk. Lily preferred barely enough to wet the bottom layer. Celeste knew this and did it wrong anyway.
“People will think I’m stupid,” Lily said.
“No.”
“I dropped the box.”
“He pulled it.”
Lily’s eyes lifted. “You believe me?”
“Yes.”
“You didn’t see the first part.”
“I saw enough.”
“What if I was in his way?”
“You were carrying a box where the event coordinator told you to carry it.”
“He said excuse me.”
“Before he pulled it?”
Lily nodded.
“What exactly happened?”
Celeste kept her voice even. She hated having to ask, hated that careful questions could sound like doubt.
Lily moved the spoon through her milk without eating. “I was walking to the stage. He stepped in front of me. I stopped. He said, ‘That isn’t for you.’ I said I knew. Then he took the ribbon.”
“Took it how?”
“He put his finger under it. I held the box because Mrs. Calder told me not to let anybody else carry it.”
“And then?”
“He pulled.”
“Hard?”
Lily considered. “Fast.”
“Did he say anything else?”
“He said, ‘Let go.’”
“Did you?”
“I tried. But the ribbon went around my fingers.”
Celeste’s stomach tightened.
“Why didn’t you tell me last night?”
May you like
“You were mad.”
“Not at you.”
