Chapter 2 - THE NINTH FLOOR
2
Clara did not sleep.
She sat beside Lily until the little girl’s breathing deepened again, then placed Daniel’s note beneath the lamp and examined every stroke.
There was no question.
Daniel had written it.
The strange thing was not merely that someone possessed an old note from her husband.
It was when the note appeared.
Minutes after Clara had arrived unannounced.
Someone inside the Grand Regent had been waiting for her.
Or watching her.
At midnight she called her chief corporate counsel, Rebecca Sloan.
Rebecca answered on the third ring.
“Clara?”
“I need you to listen carefully.”
Something in Clara’s voice awakened the lawyer instantly.
“What happened?”
Clara explained the front-desk incident, Suite 904, Martin’s reaction and the envelope.
Rebecca remained silent for several seconds.
Then she said, “Do not confront Martin alone.”
“I wasn’t planning to.”
“I mean it. Don’t treat this like an employee discipline problem anymore.”
“I don’t.”
“Good.”
Clara stared at Daniel’s handwriting.
“I need everything we have on Suite 917.”
Rebecca began typing.
“Give me a minute.”
Clara waited.
Finally Rebecca spoke again.
“Interesting.”
“What?”
“Room 917 doesn’t appear on the current inventory.”
Clara turned toward the door.
“What do you mean?”
“The ninth floor jumps from 916 to 918.”
“That makes no sense.”
“I’m looking at renovation records. Nine years ago the hotel combined two smaller rooms.”
“Which rooms?”
“917 and 919.”
“Into what?”
Rebecca paused.
“Suite 919.”
Clara walked toward the window.
“So officially, 917 stopped existing nine years ago.”
“Yes.”
“Daniel knew about it.”
Rebecca became quiet again.
“Clara, there’s something else.”
“What?”
“Daniel accessed corporate files relating to the Chicago property repeatedly during the last four months of his life.”
Clara stopped breathing for a moment.
“He was sick.”
“I know.”
“He could barely walk some days.”
“He still opened eleven internal audit folders.”
Clara closed her eyes.
Daniel had always protected her from unnecessary stress.
Especially during his illness.
Apparently, he had been protecting her from something else as well.
At 12:40 a.m., someone tapped softly at the door.
Lupita.
Clara let her inside.
The housekeeper looked nervous.
“I’m sorry to come so late.”
“Tell me about 917.”
Lupita froze.
Clara placed Daniel’s note on the table.
Lupita covered her mouth.
“Oh, God.”
“You recognize his handwriting?”
“I recognize the message.”
Clara felt a chill.
“Sit down.”
Lupita remained standing.
“Your husband came here three years ago.”
Clara stared at her.
“When?”
“About six weeks before he died.”
Impossible.
Daniel had told Clara he was attending an experimental treatment consultation in Boston.
“He came to Chicago?”
“For two nights.”
“Why?”
“He was asking questions.”
“About what?”
Lupita looked toward the bedroom where Lily slept.
“People disappearing.”
Clara’s stomach tightened.
“What people?”
“Employees.”
“How many?”
“I don’t know.”
“You worked here. How can you not know?”
“Because they always had explanations.”
Lupita began counting quietly.
“Someone moved home. Someone quit without notice. Someone got deported. Someone stole money. Someone had family problems.”
Her eyes filled.
“But some of us didn’t believe it.”
Clara sat down.
“Why wasn’t corporate notified?”
“It was.”
Clara looked up sharply.
“By whom?”
“My daughter.”
Lupita’s voice nearly broke.
“Her name was Sofia.”
Was.
Clara noticed immediately.
“What happened to her?”
“She worked overnight accounting. She noticed money being moved through event accounts.”
“What kind of money?”
“Large deposits. Cash. Fake vendor payments.”
Lupita wiped her eyes.
“Sofia sent evidence to someone at corporate.”
“Who?”
“She never told me.”
“What happened after?”
“She disappeared.”
Clara’s throat tightened.
“Did police investigate?”
“Martin said she had stolen eighteen thousand dollars and fled to Mexico.”
“Did she?”
“My daughter was born in Milwaukee.”
Lupita’s laugh was bitter.
“She had never even been to Mexico.”
Clara reached across the table.
“When?”
“Four years ago.”
Before Daniel became sick.
Before his secret visit.
“Was Sofia ever found?”
“No.”
Clara immediately texted Rebecca the name.
Lupita looked again at Daniel’s note.
“Your husband believed Sofia had discovered something connected to the ninth floor.”
“Why Room 917?”
Lupita hesitated.
Then she removed a small object from her apron pocket.
A key card.
Old.
Scratched.
Unmarked.
“Because this opens the service door beside 916.”
Clara stared at it.
“Where did you get that?”
“Daniel gave it to me.”
“Three years ago?”
“Yes.”
“He told me that if you ever came here unexpectedly, I should give it to you.”
Clara felt as though the room tilted.
“He knew I would come?”
“He hoped you wouldn’t.”
The words hurt more than Clara expected.
Lupita continued.
“He told me that if everything remained quiet, I should destroy the key. But if anyone ever tried to keep you away from the ninth floor…”
She looked at Daniel’s message.
“…then something had started again.”
Clara picked up the key.
“Started again?”
Before Lupita could answer, a sound came from the hall.
A footstep.
Then another.
Someone stopped outside the suite.
Clara extinguished the lamp.
Lupita stared at her.
The two women listened.
A shadow appeared beneath the door.
Someone was standing there.
Not knocking.
Just listening.
Clara quietly reached for her phone.
Then the door handle moved.
Once.
Twice.
Someone tried to enter.
Lupita whispered, “They know I’m here.”
Clara activated the secondary deadbolt.
The handle stopped.
Silence.
Then footsteps moved away.
Clara waited thirty seconds before checking the peephole.
Empty hallway.
She opened the hotel security application on her phone.
As company chairwoman, she had executive access to surveillance.
Camera 12F-East.
Offline.
Camera 12F-West.
Offline.
Elevator lobby.
Offline.
Every camera on the floor had stopped recording at exactly 12:42 a.m.
The minute Lupita arrived.
Clara looked at the housekeeper.
“We’re not going to Room 917 tonight.”
Lupita nodded.
“Good.”
“We’re going at six in the morning.”
Lupita stared at her.
“Before Martin can prepare for us.”
Clara walked to the bedroom and looked at Lily sleeping peacefully.
For eleven years, Clara had believed the Grand Regent empire was something she built to provide security for her family.
Now she understood that somewhere inside it, something had grown while she wasn’t looking.
Something her husband had discovered.
Something people had disappeared over.
Something powerful enough to disable cameras outside the owner’s room.
At 1:06 a.m., Rebecca texted.
Found Sofia Alvarez.
Clara’s heart jumped.
Then a second message appeared.
Officially declared dead eighteen months ago.
May you like
And a third.
Clara, the person who signed the identification paperwork was Martin Hale.
