Chapter 4 - THE MAN IN THE SAME TUXEDO
Samuel stared at his empty cuff.
“I didn’t put that there.”
I wanted to believe him.
That was the problem.
Trust had already cost me too much that day.
“You’re missing one.”
“I know what it looks like.”
“Then tell me what happened.”
“I can’t.”
I stared at him.
His face tightened.
“Because I don’t know.”
Hotel security supervisor Marcus Reed crouched beside Claire’s phone.
“Don’t touch anything.”
Samuel stepped back.
Marcus photographed the landing.
Then he looked up the stairwell.
“There’s another camera at the floor above.”
“Show me.”
We entered the security office three minutes later.
Claire wasn’t there.
I stopped in the doorway.
“Where is my daughter?”
The guard behind the desk frowned.
“She left with Mr. Grant.”
Samuel’s face went white.
“With me?”
“That’s what she said.”
The guard pulled up the hallway footage.
At 2:41 p.m., Claire appeared outside the security office.
At 2:43, a man in a black tuxedo approached.
The camera angle only showed him from behind.
Same height as Samuel.
Same build.
Same silver tie.
Claire immediately followed him.
Samuel stepped closer to the monitor.
“That is not me.”
The man turned slightly.
His face remained hidden.
But something flashed near his wrist.
A silver cuff link.
S.G.
I felt sick.
Marcus slowed the footage.
The man guided Claire toward the east stairwell.
Then the camera feed jumped.
Seven minutes were missing.
“Why?”
Marcus frowned.
“Someone manually interrupted the recording.”
“From where?”
“Security control or remote administrative access.”
Samuel looked at me.
“Who has remote access?”
Marcus hesitated.
“Hotel ownership.”
I owned seventy percent of the Whitmore Grand Hotel.
“Who in my company?”
“Your corporate technology department.”
I knew the answer before he said it.
“Henry Walsh?”
Marcus nodded.
“Mr. Walsh has emergency executive credentials.”
Of course he did.
My chief financial officer had financial access.
Security access.
Corporate access.
And suddenly he wasn’t answering his phone.
I called him again.
Straight to voicemail.
“Find him.”
Marcus started making calls.
Samuel stood beside me.
“Richard.”
I looked at him.
“Someone copied my clothes.”
“And your cuff link.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“To turn you against me.”
“Why you?”
His answer came quietly.
“Because I’m the one person they knew you might believe instead of Vanessa.”
That made sense.
I hated that it made sense.
My phone vibrated.
Unknown number.
I answered.
“Hello?”
Silence.
Then Claire’s voice.
“Dad.”
Every muscle in my body locked.
“Claire, where are you?”
“I’m okay.”
“You don’t sound okay.”
“I’m in a storage room on the sixth floor.”
Samuel grabbed a hotel map.
“Are you alone?”
“Yes.”
“What happened?”
“A man told me Samuel needed me.”
“Did you see his face?”
“No.”
“He led me toward the stairwell.”
Her breathing shook.
“When I realized it wasn’t Samuel, I tried to leave.”
“What did he do?”
“He grabbed my phone.”
My fists tightened.
“I fought him.”
“Did he hurt you?”
“I hit my shoulder.”
“That’s all?”
“I’m fine.”
She wasn’t.
But she was alive.
That was enough for that second.
“Stay where you are.”
“No, Dad.”
“Claire.”
“Listen to me.”
Her voice became sharper.
“I know why they wanted my phone.”
“Why?”
“I took pictures of the competency file.”
“I know.”
“No.”
She breathed hard.
“That wasn’t all I found.”
Samuel and I exchanged a look.
“What else?”
“There’s an insurance document.”
I felt cold again.
“What kind?”
“Key-person insurance.”
I knew the policy.
The company carried it on several senior executives, including me.
“If you died, the company receives money.”
“Yes.”
“But there’s an amendment.”
“What amendment?”
“It was filed three weeks ago.”
My pulse hammered.
“Claire.”
“The beneficiary structure changed.”
“To whom?”
She said nothing for a second.
Then she whispered.
“To a holding company controlled by the emergency executive committee.”
The same committee that listed Vanessa.
Brent.
Henry.
The room seemed to shrink.
“How much?”
“Fifty million.”
Samuel cursed.
I gripped the edge of the desk.
The scheme was growing.
First two million.
Then company control.
Now life insurance.
Still, something didn’t fit.
“If I became incompetent, they controlled the company.”
“Yes.”
“If I died, they got fifty million.”
“Yes.”
“So which did they want?”
Claire went silent.
Then she said the sentence I was afraid to hear.
“Maybe they didn’t care.”
My mouth went dry.
“Dad, there’s more.”
Of course there was.
“There’s always more today.”
“The amendment was approved by Henry.”
“That doesn’t surprise me anymore.”
“And witnessed by Dr. Mercer.”
That did.
My doctor.
My CFO.
My fiancée.
Her brother.
Four people.
One plan.
I heard pounding in the background.
Claire gasped.
“What was that?”
“Someone is outside.”
“Lock the door.”
“It is locked.”
Another bang.
“Claire!”
“I’m moving something in front of it.”
Samuel pointed to the sixth-floor storage locations on the map.
“There are three.”
Marcus grabbed his radio.
“Teams to floor six.”
The pounding came again.
Then a man’s voice sounded through Claire’s phone.
“Claire.”
She stopped breathing.
I knew the voice.
So did Samuel.
Henry Walsh.
“Claire, open the door.”
I grabbed the phone tighter.
“Henry!”
Silence.
Then Henry spoke.
“Richard?”
“Yes.”
A soft laugh came through the speaker.
“I was wondering when you’d finally catch up.”
My blood ran cold.
“You touch my daughter and I swear—”
“Don’t make threats.”
His voice was almost bored.
“You’ve already given us enough evidence of emotional instability today.”
Samuel whispered.
“He’s recording.”
I forced myself to stop.
Henry continued.
“Claire has something that belongs to me.”
“She has evidence.”
“She has stolen corporate property.”
“You forged medical files.”
“That’s a very serious accusation.”
“I’ve seen them.”
“Have you?”
That question bothered me.
Claire had seen them.
I had heard about them.
But I had not personally seen the full originals.
Henry knew it.
“Open the door, Claire.”
“No.”
“Then this gets more difficult.”
Samuel took the phone from me and covered the microphone.
“They’re stalling us.”
“For what?”
He looked toward the security monitors.
Then his eyes widened.
“The ballroom.”
I understood instantly.
Vanessa.
Brent.
One hundred and forty guests.
A perfect distraction.
We turned to the live ballroom camera.
Vanessa was gone.
So was Brent.
I ran.
When I reached the ballroom, guests were standing everywhere.
Two security officers looked confused.
“Where are they?”
One pointed toward the service exit.
“Mrs.—Miss Cole said you asked her to come upstairs.”
“I did not.”
I rushed through the door.
On the floor lay a discarded veil.
Beside it was Vanessa’s wedding bouquet.
And underneath the bouquet was a folded note.
My name was written on it.
I opened it.
May you like
Only one sentence was inside.
IF YOU WANT CLAIRE SAFE, SIGN MONDAY’S PAPERS TONIGHT.
