Chapter 2 - The Wrong Cameras
"Where's Iris?" I asked.
Pike's smile held. "You mean the girl who ran off after stealing from the guests?"
"I mean the waitress whose badge is in your pocket."
He covered it with his hand. "You always were too curious."
That told me more than his accusation. Pike knew exactly who I was, even though he had pretended otherwise during my job interview. Eight years ago, I'd worked venue protection for an outside contractor. The last time I saw him, we were on opposite sides of a complaint about a locked emergency exit.
I had filed the report. He had filed a statement calling me unstable.
Now he took my elbow. I stepped away before his fingers closed.
"If Vanessa wants to fire me, payroll can put it in writing," I said. "You don't get to drag me anywhere."
A hotel manager approached with a panicked smile. "Lena, please don't make this worse."
"Someone's missing, Martin. Call the police."
His eyes flicked to Pike. "We have procedures."
"So do I."
I pulled out my phone. Pike's gaze hardened.
"Put that away."
"Not your decision." I dialed 911, gave the hotel's address, described a possible unlawful detention, and asked for officers. The dispatcher told me to stay in a safe public area.
Vanessa had moved on to the dais, where her fiance, Elliot Ward, stood beside a giant screen displaying the words HAVEN BRIDGE: EVERY FAMILY DESERVES A DOOR.
Elliot owned hotels and a software company. His engagement to Vanessa had filled society pages for months. Tonight, his foundation was collecting donations for emergency apartments.
At the edge of the service corridor, I spotted a folded order slip beneath a rolling linen cart. There was a greasy thumbprint on the paper and six words written in Iris's narrow handwriting.
B3. BEFORE 9:40. NOT THE WINE.
My phone showed 9:16.
May you like
I had twenty-four minutes to find out what she meant.
Then the manager whispered, "Lena, don't go downstairs. They turned the basement cameras off."
