Chương 8
Claire stepped closer.
At the top of one page was a company name.
Hale Meridian Hospitality.
Her father’s company.
Beneath it were payments spanning six years.
Some small.
Some enormous.
Several names were marked with red ink.
One was Steven Vale.
Another was Daniel Mercer.
Claire looked toward Daniel’s name.
“Why was he paid?”
Richard said, “Legal work.”
Marcus gave him a look.
Richard added, “And other things.”
Claire laughed once.
“Specific.”
The detective turned another page.
A note in the margin read:
R says D will clean all of it if necessary. I asked what “all” means. R wouldn’t answer.
Claire looked at her father.
Richard closed his eyes.
“Did you have Mom killed?”
Ethan stood up.
Richard’s eyes opened.
“No.”
Claire heard how loud she had spoken.
The detective turned.
“Ms. Hale.”
She did not care.
“Did you?”
“No.”
“Did Daniel?”
“No.”
“How do you know?”
“Because your mother is alive.”
Claire stared at him.
That was not enough.
He knew it.
The prepaid phone powered on.
One message was stored.
Undelivered draft.
No recipient.
Written three years earlier.
If Claire gets this, tell her I am sorry about the bridge. I was trying to disappear from Richard and ended up disappearing from her too. Those are not the same thing, but they probably felt the same to a thirteen-year-old girl.
Claire had to sit down.
Nobody spoke to her.
For that she was grateful.
She read the sentence again.
A thirteen-year-old girl.
She had not thought of herself that way in years.
Not when remembering her mother.
In memory she had always been Claire, fully formed, angry, old enough to understand abandonment.
Thirteen was smaller.
Thirteen needed someone to explain where her mother had gone.
Richard had explained.
Your mother loved you. She was sick. Sometimes sick people make decisions they would never make if they were well.
He had not technically lied about every part.
That somehow made it worse.
The detective scrolled.
Another draft appeared.
Daniel says he can get the ledger out if I trust him. I do not trust him. I trust his guilt.
Marcus let out a breath.
Richard said, “That sounds like her.”
Claire looked at him.
“What?”
“Your mother.”
His smile was faint.
Sad.
“She never mistook usefulness for goodness.”
Claire hated that he could still remember something intimate about her.
The detectives took the notebook and phone downtown.
Claire demanded copies.
They told her they would need to review potential criminal evidence first.
Richard’s attorneys arrived before lunch.
So did a representative from the hotel’s corporate compliance office.
By noon, the third floor corridor had been closed.
By one, three news vans were parked outside the Bellweather.
Claire learned this from social media.
Someone had recorded Daniel being placed in the police cruiser.
Another guest had filmed the shattered SUV.
A local account posted that “sources” claimed a child connected to a prominent hotel family had been abducted on the property.
No names yet.
Claire sat in a conference room with Ethan eating vending-machine pretzels.
Her phone buzzed constantly.
A college friend.
Her manager at the physical therapy clinic.
Two cousins she had not spoken to in months.
An unknown number.
Then another.
She turned the phone off.
Ethan said, “Can I have your pretzels?”
“You have your own.”
“Mine taste weird.”
“They came from the same machine.”
“That doesn’t mean anything.”
She handed them over.
Marcus entered.
His expression told her before he spoke.
“They arrested your father.”
Ethan stopped chewing.
Claire stood.
“For what?”
“Financial fraud. Obstruction. They’re saying preliminary.”
“Because of the notebook?”
“And records they got from Daniel.”
Claire stared.
“Daniel gave them records?”
“Apparently.”
“Why?”
Marcus sat down.
“I think Daniel has been preparing for this.”
Claire remembered his face after she slapped him.
Tired.
Not surprised.
“What about the kidnapping?”
“He’s still charged.”
“So he exposes Dad and kidnaps Ethan on the same night?”
Marcus rubbed his eyes.
“People are complicated.”
“No. That’s not complicated. That’s insane.”
“Those aren’t mutually exclusive.”
Claire looked at Ethan.
He was quietly folding the pretzel bag.
“Did Dad know Daniel was turning on him?”
Marcus nodded.
“That was the argument Ethan heard.”
Ethan said, “Dad told him he’d destroy him.”
Claire turned.
“You didn’t tell me that.”
“You didn’t ask.”
“What else did they say?”
Ethan frowned, trying to remember.
“Daniel said, ‘She’s coming back whether you like it or not.’ Dad said, ‘You don’t get to decide when my family gets blown up.’ Then I came in.”
“Why?”
“My charger.”
Claire covered her face.
Marcus said, “Of course.”
Ethan continued.
“I opened Dad’s drawer because that’s where he puts stuff he takes from me. The key was there with my charger. Daniel looked at it and got weird.”
“What kind of weird?”
“He stopped talking.”
“Then?”
“Dad told me to put it back. I asked what it was. Daniel said, ‘Take it.’ Dad yelled at him.”
Claire stared at Marcus.
Ethan said, “Then Dad told Daniel to get me out.”
“Daniel told you to take the key?”
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t you say that?”
Ethan frowned.
“You were busy slapping him.”
Marcus coughed into his hand.
Claire pointed at him.
“Don’t.”
He looked away.
Ethan continued.
“Daniel took me to the garage. He kept saying we had to go before Dad came down.”
“Where was he taking you?”
“He said to your apartment.”
“And then he put you in the cargo area.”
“Yeah.”
“Why?”
“He got a phone call.”
“From who?”
“I don’t know.”
“What did he say?”
Ethan’s face changed.
“He said, ‘No, Laura, I’m not giving him back the key.’”
Claire stopped breathing.
Marcus leaned forward.
“You’re sure?”
“Yes.”
“Laura?”
“Yes.”
Claire’s hand found the back of a chair.
Her mother had been on the phone.
In the garage.
Minutes before Claire arrived.
Ethan continued.
“Then he said, ‘I know what I promised you.’”
“What happened next?”
“He told me to get in the car.”
“Did he say why?”
May you like
“He said there were cameras.”
Marcus frowned.
