Chapter 3 - The Basement Door
"Who turned them off?" I asked.
Martin swallowed. "Security says it's maintenance."
"Does maintenance usually take the cameras down while three hundred people are in the building?"
"I don't know anything else."
He looked ashamed. I didn't have time to hate him for it.
I passed through the kitchen, where pans clattered and servers hurried beneath hanging heat lamps. Grace Kim, the catering captain, caught my wrist.
"I heard what happened," she said. "Vanessa told everyone you kicked first."
"Did Iris come through here?"
Grace shook her head. "She was supposed to deliver water to the donor lounge. Pike took her off the floor."
"You have a master key?"
"Not for the basement. What are you thinking?"
"That somebody wants a witness quiet before nine forty."
Grace took a breath. "The freight stairs are behind the laundry room. Door sticks, but it opens."
"Call the police too. Give them Iris's name. Don't let anyone tell you I invented her."
In the stairwell, warm kitchen air gave way to the smell of bleach and concrete. I kept one hand on the rail and checked every landing. B1 held supplies. B2 held the mechanical rooms. At B3, a flickering ceiling light illuminated a row of storage doors.
I heard a scrape.
"Iris?" I called quietly.
Nothing.
"It's Lena. If you can hear me, knock twice."
Two taps came from a room marked PRIVATE INVENTORY.
I tried the handle. Locked from the outside. A violation of every safety rule I had ever taught.
"Are you hurt?"
"My wrist," Iris whispered through the door. "He took my phone."
"I'm getting you out."
"Don't use the main hallway."
"Why?"
Her voice broke. "Because he's not working for the hotel tonight."
A key turned in a door at the far end of the corridor.
May you like
Pike stepped into the light and raised the hotel's heavy ring of security keys.
"There you are," he said. "I wondered how long your old habits would take to come back."
