Chapter 5 - THE FIRE BELOW THE BALLROOM
Ethan pulled Madeline beneath the table as glass crashed across the diner.
Someone screamed.
The nurses near the counter dropped to the floor.
Owen disappeared behind the booth.
For one terrifying instant, Madeline expected a gunshot.
None came.
Instead, a black SUV accelerated past the diner, its rear wheel jumping the curb before vanishing through the intersection.
Ethan lifted his head cautiously.
The shattered window had not been shot.
A heavy metal object lay among the glass.
A tire iron.
Wrapped around it with black tape was a folded piece of paper.
Ethan did not touch it.
“Everybody stay where you are.”
The delivery driver had already called 911.
Madeline’s ears rang.
Owen crawled upright.
“They could’ve killed somebody.”
“Yes,” Ethan said. “Which is probably why they didn’t use a gun.”
Owen stared.
“That’s supposed to make me feel better?”
“No.”
Police arrived within minutes.
Madeline gave a statement.
So did Ethan.
Owen tried to.
But midway through his, his father arrived.
Charles Mercer stepped through the diner door in a camel-colored overcoat with two attorneys.
His expression was not frightened.
Not relieved.
Angry.
“There you are.”
Owen stiffened.
Charles walked toward him.
“Your mother is hysterical.”
“I’m not going anywhere with you.”
Charles stopped.
The officers looked over.
Charles smiled.
“You’re twenty-six years old. I’m not kidnapping you.”
Owen’s hand curled into a fist.
“No. You just hit me.”
One attorney immediately whispered into Charles’s ear.
Charles’s expression changed.
“That’s ridiculous.”
Owen touched his split lip.
“Is it?”
Charles looked toward Madeline.
“This family conversation has nothing to do with you.”
Madeline said, “Your son seems to disagree.”
Charles’s smile turned thin.
“Ms. Carter, you have already caused enough disruption tonight.”
Ethan stepped between them.
“Careful.”
Charles’s eyes flicked to him.
“Cole.”
“Mercer.”
They spoke like men continuing an argument that had started years ago.
Charles lowered his voice.
“You have always enjoyed standing beside losing causes.”
Ethan smiled.
“And you’ve always confused money with winning.”
Charles’s jaw hardened.
An officer approached.
“Mr. Mercer, we need to speak with you about the fire at your records facility.”
For the first time, Charles looked surprised.
Only slightly.
But Madeline caught it.
“What fire?”
Owen stared at him.
“You know.”
Charles turned.
“What are you talking about?”
“You texted me.”
“I sent you a message asking you to come home.”
“You said I had something belonging to you.”
Charles’s eyes sharpened.
Owen suddenly understood he had said too much.
The memory card.
Madeline could almost hear the thought pass through the room.
Charles looked at his son’s hands.
Then pockets.
Ethan shifted subtly closer to Owen.
Police noticed.
Charles smiled.
“Whatever my son has taken, I’m sure we can resolve privately.”
Ethan answered.
“Not tonight.”
Two hours later, the three of them were inside Samuel Carter’s penthouse again.
The memory card sat on the table.
Ethan had arranged for an independent forensic specialist to make a legally documented image of its contents without altering the original.
Owen had provided a written statement explaining his authorized access.
Madeline was drinking her fourth coffee.
Samuel was furious.
Not loudly.
Samuel became quieter when furious.
“You went to a diner at two in the morning after receiving anonymous messages.”
Madeline rubbed her eyes.
“You raised me.”
“That does not answer the criticism.”
“It actually explains most of it.”
Ethan looked at the ceiling.
Samuel glared at him.
“Something funny?”
“Not remotely.”
“Good.”
Rachel entered carrying a tablet.
“We have preliminary information on the fire.”
Everyone looked up.
“Accelerant detected on two floors. Sprinkler valves were manually disabled.”
Owen closed his eyes.
Samuel asked, “Fatalities?”
“No. Night security evacuated after a smoke alarm triggered in a neighboring building.”
Madeline exhaled.
At least nobody had died.
Rachel continued.
“The records facility is heavily damaged.”
“So the originals are gone,” Owen said.
“Maybe not,” a voice said.
Everyone turned.
An older woman stood near the penthouse entrance beside Malcolm.
She was small, perhaps sixty-five, with gray curls and a red wool coat.
Madeline recognized her.
Lucinda Perez.
Banquet operations manager at the Bellweather Grand.
She had worked there almost thirty years.
Madeline had seen her at the gala carrying a clipboard.
Lucinda looked exhausted.
Samuel stood.
“Ms. Perez?”
“I was told you were asking about the donations.”
Richard Hale would have fired anyone who said that sentence aloud.
Which was apparently why Lucinda was here at four-thirty in the morning.
Madeline approached.
“What do you know?”
Lucinda clutched her handbag.
“Enough to lose my pension.”
Samuel said, “If anyone retaliates against your employment because you cooperate in a lawful investigation, I’ll make sure you have counsel.”
Lucinda looked at him.
“I’m not worried about myself.”
“Who are you worried about?”
“My daughter works in housekeeping at the Bellweather.”
Madeline’s anger deepened.
Lucinda sat.
“For almost two years, Mr. Knox has told department managers to submit duplicate expense reports for certain charity events.”
“Gerald Knox?” Madeline asked.
“The CFO.”
Lucinda nodded.
“One invoice went through normal accounting. Another was sent to something called Lakefront Civic Solutions.”
Madeline remembered the name from Owen’s files.
“What did you do?”
“Made copies.”
Owen stared.
“Copies of what?”
“Everything.”
Nobody spoke.
Lucinda opened her handbag.
Not enough room for documents.
Instead she removed an old brass key.
“Bellweather still has basement storage nobody uses. Before everything went digital, we kept banquet files there.”
Ethan leaned forward.
“You stored the copies inside Hale property?”
Lucinda smiled faintly.
“Men like Richard Hale never look in rooms where women keep tablecloths.”
Madeline almost applauded.
Samuel stood.
“Where?”
“Under Ballroom C.”
By sunrise, a court-authorized preservation team entered the Bellweather basement with Lucinda.
Madeline remained upstairs with Ethan.
Samuel refused to let her join the search.
“You have had one object thrown through a window tonight. That meets my quota.”
Madeline paced.
Ethan leaned against a marble wall.
“You always argue with him this much?”
“More when I’m rested.”
“He seems terrified.”
“My father?”
“Yes.”
Madeline stopped.
“He doesn’t look terrified.”
“He looks exactly like a man who knows money can solve almost everything except losing his daughter.”
The words struck deeper than Ethan intended.
Madeline looked away.
Her mother’s death had changed Samuel.
It had changed both of them.
He protected harder.
Madeline resisted harder.
Maybe they had been grieving in opposite directions for six years.
Ethan softened his voice.
“I’m sorry.”
“No. You’re right.”
Before he could answer, Lucinda appeared at the end of the corridor.
Her face was pale.
Malcolm walked beside her carrying two sealed archival boxes.
“We found them.”
Madeline’s heart jumped.
“All the invoices?”
Lucinda nodded.
“And something else.”
Malcolm placed one box on a table and opened it.
Inside were photocopies of vendor invoices, payment approvals, transfer instructions, and correspondence.
Then he removed a document.
Carter Meridian letterhead.
Samuel’s signature.
Madeline frowned.
“What is that?”
Malcolm read.
“Guarantee of supplemental hospitality obligations.”
Samuel stared.
“I never signed that.”
Lucinda spoke.
“I found it six months ago.”
Madeline looked at the date.
Her father had been in Tokyo that week.
The document claimed he signed it in Chicago.
Ethan’s expression hardened.
“This isn’t just about tomorrow’s Northstar transfer.”
“No,” Samuel said.
“They’ve been using forged Carter guarantees for months.”
Madeline felt the scale expand beneath her feet.
Then the ballroom doors opened behind them.
Four Chicago police officers entered.
A detective stepped forward.
“Madeline Carter?”
Ethan immediately moved beside her.
“I’m her attorney.”
The detective nodded.
“Ms. Carter, we have a warrant regarding unauthorized possession of Hale Hospitality financial records and suspected intrusion into company systems.”
Madeline stared.
Richard had moved faster than they had.
Ethan asked, “Arrest warrant?”
The detective hesitated.
“Search and interview.”
Samuel stepped forward.
“You have got to be joking.”
Ethan raised a hand.
“Samuel.”
Madeline looked toward the mezzanine.
Richard Hale stood above them.
Watching.
Beside him was Preston.
Richard rested one hand on the railing.
And smiled.
Madeline understood.
The fire had destroyed one set of evidence.
The forged complaint would attack the other.
And if Richard could convince the world she had stolen or fabricated what remained, none of it would matter.
The detective held out his hand.
“Ms. Carter, we need your phone.”
Madeline slowly reached for it.
Then it buzzed.
A message appeared across the lock screen from Owen.
DON’T GIVE THEM THE PHONE.
Madeline looked across the room.
Owen was gone.
Another message appeared.
ONE OF THE POLICE IS WORKING FOR HALE.
Madeline lifted her eyes.
Four officers.
One detective.
May you like
And absolutely no idea which one Owen meant.
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