Chương 4
“Never mind.”
Noah looked relieved.
“I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“I listened.”
Ethan felt anger rise so cleanly it made his hands cold.
“You did nothing wrong.”
“I was behind the wall.”
“You did nothing wrong.”
“I was trying to get Captain Brown.”
Ethan looked at the stuffed dog.
“Why was he behind the wall?”
Noah shrugged.
“I dropped him.”
The antique panel had apparently been open before Victoria locked Noah inside.
That mattered.
Ethan did not yet know how.
He forced himself not to ask.
Ruiz entered a few minutes later.
“County sheriff has been notified. The highway is closed below the western switchback, so they cannot give us an arrival time tonight. They’ve asked us to preserve the room and keep Mrs. Hale separate.”
“Can you do that?”
“We can move her to another suite and keep an officer outside.”
“No.”
Ruiz waited.
“I don’t want her moved until you check whatever she touched.”
“That’s ultimately law enforcement’s call, but we can photograph the room and restrict access.”
Ethan rubbed Noah’s back.
“What about the hallway video?”
Ruiz looked at the boy.
“We should talk outside.”
Noah caught Ethan’s sleeve.
“No.”
Ethan looked down.
“I’ll be right there.”
“No.”
Ruiz said, “We can talk here.”
Ethan appreciated her for that.
She closed the door.
“At 9:37 tonight, Mrs. Hale left the suite through the main corridor. At 9:51, she returned through the service corridor.”
Ethan frowned.
“There’s another entrance?”
“Through the butler pantry.”
“With who?”
“Alone when she returned.”
“When she left?”
“Alone.”
“Then why does that matter?”
Ruiz hesitated.
“Because at 9:42 she met a woman near the old ballroom stairs.”
Ethan stopped breathing.
Ruiz continued carefully.
“The camera angle is poor. The woman’s face is partly obscured by a hood.”
“What did she look like?”
“Dark hair. Red winter coat. Medium height.”
Mara had dark hair.
Millions of women had dark hair.
Mara hated red.
Ethan hated himself for remembering that.
“Can I see it?”
“Yes.”
Ruiz handed him a tablet.
The footage was grainy but clear enough.
Victoria appeared first, walking quickly past a pair of staff members carrying folded linens. Five seconds later she stopped near a brass fire door.
A woman stepped into frame.
Red coat.
Dark hair partly visible.
Victoria grabbed her wrist.
The woman jerked free.
They argued.
No audio.
At one point the woman turned enough for the camera to catch the left side of her face.
Ethan leaned closer.
He watched the eight-second segment again.
Then again.
Noah pressed against him.
Ruiz said nothing.
On the fourth viewing Ethan paused the video.
The woman’s image was blurred in motion, her features distorted by compression and poor light.
But one thing was visible.
Her hand.
The left one.
The little finger bent inward at the top joint.
Mara had broken that finger playing softball in eighth grade. It healed badly because she refused to wear the splint consistently.
Ethan had teased her about it on their second date when she dropped a fork.
His knees weakened.
He sat down.
Noah looked at the screen.
Ethan turned it off immediately.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“Was that Mom?”
“I don’t know.”
It came out harsher than he intended.
Noah recoiled.
Ethan closed his eyes.
“Sorry.”
He lowered his voice.
“I’m sorry, buddy.”
Noah picked at the Band-Aid on Captain Brown’s ear.
Ruiz took the tablet back.
“Do you recognize her?”
Ethan looked at the closed screen.
“I recognize something.”
He could not say more.
Not yet.
He walked into the hall and found the night manager standing beside an ice machine with his tie loosened. The younger security officer remained outside the presidential suite.
Ethan called his attorney.
It was after ten.
Daniel Cho answered on the fourth ring.
“This better involve blood or jail.”
“Maybe both.”
Daniel went silent.
Ethan had hired him eight years earlier for business matters, but they had become friends mostly because Daniel possessed the useful talent of sounding unimpressed by rich people.
“What happened?”
Ethan looked through the conference-room doorway at Noah.
Then he told him.
Daniel interrupted only twice.
Once to ask whether Noah was safe.
Once to ask whether Ethan had touched Victoria’s phone.
“No.”
“Good. Don’t.”
“I think Mara is alive.”
Silence.
This one lasted longer.
“Ethan.”
“I saw a video.”
“Of Mara?”
“Maybe.”
“Maybe is not Mara.”
“I know.”
“Who else has the footage?”
“Hotel security.”
“Tell them in writing not to erase, edit, copy for guests, or release it. Ask for the incident report number. Do not take Victoria’s phone, do not go through her things, and do not threaten her.”
“I wasn’t planning to threaten her.”
“You shoved her into a dessert cart.”
Ethan looked toward the suite.
“How do you know that?”
“You told me thirty seconds ago.”
“Oh.”
“You’re not tracking well.”
“No.”
“Stay with Noah. Let security handle her.”
“What if Mara leaves?”
Daniel paused.
“Then she leaves.”
“I waited three years.”
“And another hour does not give you permission to become stupid.”
Ethan almost laughed.
It came out as air.
Daniel continued. “If your wife is alive, there are legal issues I cannot even begin to map tonight. Death declaration, insurance, estate administration, possible fraud, custody, identity records. If she staged her death, she may have criminal exposure. If Victoria helped, same problem.”
Ethan leaned against the wall.
“And Noah?”
“Don’t do anything about paternity tonight.”
Ethan closed his eyes.
He had not said the word.
Daniel had heard enough.
“Victoria told him I can never know whose son he really is.”
“I heard you.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means Victoria said something cruel to a frightened six-year-old. That is all you know.”
“Do not lawyer me.”
“I am literally your lawyer.”
“Daniel.”
“Do not take a DNA test tonight. Do not ask Noah questions about whether he looks like you. Do not call Mara’s family screaming. Do not post anything. Do not make this child absorb your panic.”
May you like
Ethan looked through the doorway again.
Noah had discovered the conference room’s tray of pens and was sorting them by color.
