Chapter 3 - The Shadow at the Door-3
The sound of an electronic keycard chiming at the suite’s front door shattered the silence of the room.
My instincts as an auditor kicked in instantaneously. I slid the carbon-fiber casing back into the utility cavity, pressed the loose paneling flush against the baseboard, and stood up just as the primary door swung open.
Bruce walked in, tossing his sunglasses onto the marble entryway table, followed closely by Jim. Both men stopped dead in their tracks when they saw me standing near the entertainment center.
"Hey," Bruce said, his eyes narrowing slightly as he took in my posture and the pale hue of my face. "Everything alright? Where’s Lily?"
"She's in her room watching cartoons," I said, keeping my tone completely neutral. "I was just checking the HDMI connections. The signal was flickering earlier."
Jim shifted uncomfortably behind Bruce, his eyes darting toward the base of the television before snapping back to my face. "You look tired, Claire. You've been working too hard lately. You should come back down to the pool."
"I'm fine, Jim," I replied, looking directly into my younger brother's eyes. "Just a little dizzy from the heat. Actually, I was thinking about taking Lily down to the resort lobby to grab some ice cream before dinner."
Bruce stepped closer, placing a hand on my shoulder. His grip was firm, almost possessive, carrying a subtle tension that hadn't been there when we first landed four days ago. "Why don't I take her? You can rest here in the cool air for an hour."
"No," I said, stepping back just enough to break his grip without making it look like a confrontation. "I promised her we'd go together. Besides, I need to check my work email at the business center terminal downstairs. The Wi-Fi up here has been spotty all afternoon."
A brief, dangerous flicker of calculation passed across Bruce's face. He exchanged a rapid, silent glance with Jim before turning back to me with a practiced, warm smile. "Alright, honey. Take your time. Jim and I are going to grab a drink at the balcony bar."
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The moment I stepped out of the suite holding Lily's hand, I felt the invisible weight of a ticking clock hanging directly over my head. I didn't head for the ice cream parlor, nor did I go to the public business center. I walked straight to the high-security VIP executive lounge near the resort's private conference wing, where I knew the international network lines were encrypted and unmonitored.
I pulled out my secure personal mobile terminal, bypassed the local hotel servers using an encrypted VPN proxy, and dialed the direct private line of Special Agent Sarah Harris—the lead operational director for the Federal Financial Crimes Division.
