Chương 10
Victoria returned to the hotel to meet department heads.
A banquet server asked whether the rumors meant the hotel would be sold. A housekeeper said her daughter had seen Victoria crying online. A bellman requested that reporters stop blocking the employee entrance.
No one asked about Eleanor.
By the end of the meeting, Victoria’s throat hurt from answering questions without answers.
Sofia walked her through the lobby afterward. The orchids had been replaced with white roses. Guests sat beneath brass lamps drinking cocktails. The place looked untouched.
“Do you ever hate it?” Victoria asked.
“The hotel?”
“The way it keeps going.”
Sofia considered. “That’s what people pay for.”
At the front doors, Victoria stopped where Mara had first raised the locket.
The black carpet had been cleaned twice since then.
“I nearly had you remove her,” Victoria said.
“Yes.”
“You would have.”
“Yes.”
“Do you think that makes us cruel?”
Sofia looked through the glass at the traffic. “I think it makes us trained.”
“That is not better.”
“No.”
The independent committee scheduled a final board meeting for the following Monday. Its draft report concluded that Grant had concealed material facts concerning Eleanor’s disappearance, misused company resources, suppressed correspondence, and attempted to obtain Mara’s silence without authority.
It could not determine who caused Eleanor’s injuries.
Grant offered a private resolution.
He would resign, surrender his voting shares to a trust, and cooperate with the cold-case review. In exchange, the company would issue no detailed report, Victoria would describe the matter as a private family tragedy, and Mara would receive two million dollars through an anonymous settlement.
Camille delivered the offer in Victoria’s office.
“Does Mara know?” Victoria asked.
“Not yet.”
“Grant wants her signature.”
“Yes.”
“And mine.”
“Yes.”
“What do the directors want?”
“Most want it accepted.”
“Because it protects the company.”
“Because they believe public litigation will damage employees, investors, and properties that had nothing to do with 1992.”
“That is not an irrational concern.”
“No.”
Victoria walked to the window.
A protester outside held a sign reading TELL THE TRUTH. Beside him, a tourist posed for a photograph with the hotel façade.
“What would you do?” Victoria asked.
Camille put on her glasses. “I bill you so I don’t have to answer moral questions.”
“Answer this one.”
“I would decide which loss I could live with.”
Daniel was waiting at home when Victoria returned. He had packed a suitcase and placed it near the stairs.
She looked at it.
“I thought you wanted space,” he said.
“I wanted honesty.”
“I know.”
“Do you?”
He sat at the kitchen table. Without his suit jacket, he looked less like the man from the hotel entrance and more like the person who left cabinet doors open and forgot to buy toothpaste.
“I should have told you about the shelter payment,” he said. “I told myself I was protecting you because that sounded better than admitting I didn’t want to deal with what it might mean.”
“Why?”
“Because your father was alive then. Because Grant controlled the foundation budget. Because we were already fighting over the estate. Because I liked our life.”
Victoria sat across from him.
Daniel looked at the suitcase. “There are uglier answers. I don’t think they are truer.”
“You let them decide what I knew.”
“Yes.”
“My mother kept trying to reach me.”
“Yes.”
“And every man who loved me found a reason not to tell me.”
His eyes reddened.
“I am sorry,” he said.
There was no speech after it. No explanation shaped like wisdom. He sat with his hands on the table and waited for whatever she chose.
“Grant offered a settlement,” Victoria said.
Daniel’s mouth tightened. “How much?”
“Two million for Mara. His resignation. No public report.”
“That would change her life.”
“It would.”
“What does she want?”
“I haven’t asked.”
“Then ask before deciding what her life should cost.”
Mara listened to the offer in Tessa’s office at the drop-in center. The room contained a metal desk, a dead plant, and a bulletin board covered with bus schedules. Victoria sat opposite her. Camille explained the legal terms. Tessa stood by the window with her arms folded.
When Camille finished, Mara asked, “After taxes?”
Camille answered.
“Can they take it for old debts?”
“Some creditors may have claims. We can structure portions through a trust, but there are limits.”
“Would I have to say I lied?”
“No.”
“Would I have to stop talking?”
“You could not discuss the Hale family, the locket, Eleanor, Grant, the investigation, or the settlement.”
“So everything anybody wants to ask.”
“Yes.”
Mara looked at Tessa. “Two million is a stupid amount of money.”
“It is,” Tessa said.
“I could buy a place.”
“You could.”
“With a washer.”
“A fancy one.”
Mara smiled faintly. “The kind with too many buttons.”
Victoria watched her twist the tea bag string around one finger. The center had given her a paper cup. She seemed more at ease with it than with the china at the hotel.
“What do you think I should do?” Mara asked.
Victoria took a breath.
Six weeks earlier, she would have answered with certainty and called it guidance.
“I think accepting it would be reasonable,” she said. “I think refusing it would also be reasonable. I think Grant designed the choice so either answer could be used against you.”
Mara stared at the dark surface of her tea.
“What will you do?” she asked.
“The company wants me to sign.”
“That isn’t what I asked.”
Victoria looked at the scarred metal desk.
“I don’t want the report buried.”
“Even if the hotels lose money?”
“Yes.”
“People could lose jobs.”
“Yes.”
“You say that like it belongs in a column.”
“It may happen.”
“Would you lose your house?”
“No.”
“Then don’t pretend the risk is the same.”
Victoria accepted the blow.
Mara leaned back. “I hate that he offered enough to make silence look smart.”
“Silence may be smart.”
“It won’t feel smart at three in the morning.”
May you like
“No.”
Tessa sat beside her. “You don’t have to decide today.”
