Chapter 3 - THE SERVICE ELEVATOR
She and Cynthia took the service elevator to the twenty-second floor.
I checked access logs.
Suite 2207 opened at 4:19 p.m.
Cardholder:
CYNTHIA VALE.
Vanessa’s sister.
Alexander was already moving.
Police stopped him.
“You stay here.”
“That is my wife.”
“Your first wife,” the detective corrected.
I went upstairs with detectives because hotel security controlled the electronic locks.
Suite 2207 was empty.
But a glass of water sat on the table beside prenatal vitamins.
In the trash was a hospital wristband bearing Margaret Whitmore’s name and birth date.
Lily had followed my assistant farther down the hall and called out.
“Mom!”
I turned.
“Stay there.”
She pointed at the housekeeping cart.
A folded yellow blanket hung from the side.
“I saw that blanket in the dressing room.”
Underneath it, my staff found a burner phone. The latest text read: SHE SAW THE BELLY. MOVE MARGARET NOW.
Sent at 7:46 p.m.
Three minutes before Lily spoke in the ballroom.
I checked hotel cameras.
At 7:48, Cynthia pushed a scarf-covered woman in a wheelchair through the underground garage while Rowan walked beside them. They entered a sedan registered to Haven Women’s Center.
Rowan initially refused to speak.
Then officers showed him the garage video.
He asked for a lawyer.
Before the lawyer arrived, he said one sentence.
“Margaret is safer where she is.”
Alexander stared through the monitor.
“Safer from who?”
May you like
Rowan looked straight into the interview-room camera.
“From you.”
