Chapter 2 - The Missing Twenty Minutes
Rachel did not allow Daniel to take Ethan upstairs.
That was the first fight.
“I’m his father,” Daniel said.
“And right now he’s afraid of you.”
Daniel stared at her as if she had slapped him.
They stood inside the hotel security office while two Chicago police officers interviewed Clara in a separate conference room.
Maya waited outside.
Grant Bell worked furiously at a computer terminal, claiming he was trying to recover the deleted surveillance footage.
Ethan sat curled against Rachel on a leather chair.
Daniel lowered his voice.
“Think carefully about what you’re doing.”
Rachel looked at him.
“Is that a threat?”
“It’s advice.”
“My son says he saw you with Clara after midnight.”
“He also thinks superheroes are real.”
Ethan lifted his head.
Rachel’s expression changed.
Daniel realized his mistake.
“Ethan, I didn’t mean—”
“Don’t.”
Rachel stood.
“You don’t get to undermine him because what he remembers is inconvenient.”
Daniel’s voice hardened.
“You’re turning a frightened child into a witness against his father.”
“No. Someone else did that when they gave him something to witness.”
The door opened.
Officer Lena Ruiz entered.
She was in her late thirties, observant, unsmiling.
“Mrs. Mercer?”
“Yes.”
“We’re treating the cart incident as a potential child-endangerment matter. I need a statement from your son, but because of his age, I’d prefer to arrange a forensic interview rather than repeatedly question him here.”
Rachel nodded.
“Good.”
Daniel stepped forward.
“I agree.”
Ruiz glanced between them.
“Are you the father?”
“Yes. Daniel Mercer.”
Recognition passed through her face.
Ward Meridian’s CEO appeared often enough in Chicago business news.
Daniel noticed.
He always noticed.
“Officer,” he said, “this has been blown badly out of proportion.”
Ruiz’s expression remained neutral.
“A seven-year-old was found crying under the closed cover of a moving industrial laundry cart.”
“He climbed in.”
“That’s one version.”
Daniel stopped smiling.
Rachel almost did.
Ruiz continued.
“We also have an allegation that Ms. Hayes intentionally prevented the child from exiting.”
“Maya Torres heard her,” Rachel said.
Daniel turned.
“Maya is an entry-level employee who has worked here for what, three months?”
“Eight,” Grant said without looking up.
Daniel’s eyes flicked toward him.
Grant lowered his head again.
Rachel caught the exchange.
“Why is the footage missing?” she asked.
Grant rubbed his mouth.
“The camera was active. The recording server shows a deletion command at 8:11.”
“Who can delete footage?”
“Security administrators.”
“How many?”
Grant hesitated.
“Four.”
“You?”
“Yes.”
“Who else?”
“Two shift managers and the regional security administrator.”
Daniel interrupted.
“This is becoming a corporate interrogation.”
Rachel held up Ethan’s key card.
“No. This is becoming evidence.”
Ruiz looked at it.
“May I?”
Rachel handed it over carefully.
Ethan immediately said, “That’s mine.”
Ruiz crouched.
“For now, I’m going to keep it safe, okay?”
He nodded reluctantly.
“Can it tell you whose room it opens?”
“Possibly. Hotel lock systems create audit data.”
Daniel moved closer.
“Officer, that card is hotel property. There’s no reason to seize it.”
Ruiz stood.
“There is now.”
Daniel’s face tightened.
Rachel felt a small, vicious satisfaction.
For years, Daniel had dominated rooms by deciding which facts mattered.
Officer Ruiz had just shown him he no longer controlled this one.
Then Grant swore under his breath.
Rachel turned.
“What?”
Grant stared at his screen.
“There’s no recoverable video file.”
Daniel said nothing.
Grant continued.
“But there is a deletion log.”
Rachel moved beside him.
The screen displayed a timestamp.
08:11:43.
Camera B-17.
User credentials: GBELL.ADMIN.
Rachel stared at Grant.
“You deleted it?”
“No.”
“It used your account.”
“I was upstairs at eight eleven.”
Daniel crossed his arms.
“Convenient.”
Grant turned on him.
“I was standing next to you in the executive conference room.”
Rachel looked at Daniel.
Daniel paused.
Then nodded.
“He was.”
“Which means someone used his credentials,” Rachel said.
Grant looked disturbed.
“My password changed last month. IT forced a reset.”
“Who has access?”
“No one should.”
Rachel thought about the company.
About the hotel.
About how many systems Daniel ultimately controlled as CEO.
“Preserve that deletion log.”
Daniel laughed softly.
“Rachel.”
She faced him.
“What?”
“You’re not a detective.”
“No.”
She glanced at Ethan.
“I’m his mother.”
Her phone rang.
Owen Ward.
Her brother.
Rachel stepped into the hall to answer.
“What?”
Owen sounded breathless.
“What the hell happened?”
“How do you know?”
“Daniel texted me.”
Of course he had.
“He told me Ethan climbed into a laundry cart and you attacked Clara.”
Rachel closed her eyes.
“I didn’t attack anyone.”
“He said you shoved her to the floor.”
“She was holding the cart shut while Ethan screamed.”
A pause.
“That isn’t what he said.”
“Do you believe him?”
Owen did not answer quickly enough.
Rachel felt something cold move through her.
“Owen.”
“I believe everybody is emotional.”
“That is not an answer.”
“Rachel, the board meeting is Monday. The last thing we need is a scandal.”
“My son was locked in a cart.”
“And I’m worried about him. But Daniel says you’re connecting this to the sale.”
“Ethan heard Daniel talking about missing money.”
Silence.
Rachel gripped the phone.
“He said your name too.”
Owen’s breathing changed.
“What did he say?”
“That when I was blamed, you’d vote yes.”
Owen whispered something she couldn’t hear.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“You know something.”
“No.”
“You’re lying.”
“I’m telling you to calm down.”
Rachel almost laughed.
It was Daniel’s phrase.
Always Daniel’s phrase.
“Did Daniel lend you money?”
Another silence.
Longer.
Rachel’s stomach tightened.
“Owen.”
“I have to go.”
“How much?”
The call ended.
Rachel stood alone in the corridor.
Through the glass wall of the security office she could see Daniel kneeling beside Ethan, trying to speak softly to him.
Ethan turned his face away.
Rachel’s phone vibrated again.
Not a call.
An email.
The sender was Samir Patel, Ward Meridian’s internal audit director.
Subject:
URGENT — PRIVATE
Rachel opened it.
Samir had written only four sentences.
Rachel,
I was going to wait until Monday, but I don’t think I can anymore.
$11.8 million is missing from the Chicago renovation accounts.
The approvals are under your name.
And someone just tried to delete the audit file.
May you like
Rachel looked through the glass at her husband.
Daniel was already looking back at her.
