Chapter 7 - The Woman in the Press Row
"They want you angry," Grace said. "That's the whole play."
"Then they picked the wrong night," I answered.
Iris snorted despite herself. "You're kind of scary when you're calm."
"Good. Save scared for later."
Grace lent Iris a clean server jacket and asked Ben to stay near the break room door. I wasn't going to walk a frightened young woman back into a hall full of people who had already decided I was guilty.
Instead, I borrowed Grace's phone and looked up Sloane Price's public newsroom number. I left a message naming the hotel, the missing waitress, and the foundation invoices. I gave a number where she could call me.
Three minutes later, the phone rang.
"This is Sloane," a woman said. "Who has the paperwork?"
"I do. I'm Lena Ortiz. Before I send you anything, how did Iris know to contact you?"
"Her former supervisor, Marian Bell, emailed me this afternoon. We were meeting by the west staircase at nine fifteen. Iris never came."
"She's safe for now."
Sloane let out a hard breath. "Can I speak to her?"
I put Iris on. She confirmed the plan, then handed the phone back with trembling fingers.
"Listen," Sloane said. "I received the shell-company records. What I don't have is proof the money was actually authorized. If they cancel the transfer, they'll say it was all a misunderstanding."
"There's a board release scheduled for nine forty."
"Then we need the actual approval."
Elliot Ward stood in the ballroom under a banner about protecting families. If he had signed the release without reading it, that was bad enough. If he knew, I needed to find out before I trusted him with anything.
Grace offered me a way through the pantry entrance. "I can get you near the press row. But Vanessa's people are looking for you."
"Let them look."
As I reached the curtains behind the stage, I heard Elliot speaking into a microphone.
May you like
"Before we celebrate tonight's generosity," he said, "there's something unfortunate our guests need to see."
The giant screen lit up with my face.
