Chapter 9 - The Ballroom in Darkness
Someone screamed.
Then another person shouted.
Emergency lights flickered on.
The ballroom turned red beneath the backup system.
Mercer grabbed my arm.
“Stay with me.”
Officers rushed toward the exits.
Hotel staff began shouting into radios.
The main power failure lasted only twenty seconds.
It was enough.
When the lights returned, Dad was gone.
So was Mom.
The chair where Dad’s attorney had been sitting was empty too.
Mercer swore under his breath.
“How did they get out?”
A hotel security guard pointed toward the kitchen.
“Service elevator.”
Mercer sent officers after them.
I turned toward Lily.
She was gone.
My heart stopped.
“Lily?”
I ran toward the bridal table.
Nothing.
Then I saw one of her shoes near the service corridor.
“Mercer.”
He followed my gaze.
We reached the kitchen.
A waiter stood beside a metal door.
His face was pale.
“A man came through here.”
“What man?”
“Older.”
“Was a woman with him?”
“Yes.”
“And another young woman?”
He nodded.
“The bride.”
My blood froze.
“Did she go willingly?”
The waiter hesitated.
“No.”
Mercer pulled his weapon.
We followed the corridor to the loading area.
An SUV was disappearing up the ramp.
A second vehicle sat abandoned with both doors open.
On the concrete lay Lily’s phone.
Mercer picked it up.
The screen was cracked.
A message was visible.
Sent to me thirty seconds earlier.
Claire help me.
I did not remember moving.
I only remember Mercer catching my shoulder before I ran into the street.
“We will find her.”
“That’s my sister.”
“I know.”
“They took her because she gave you Andrew’s phone.”
“Probably.”
The word hurt.
For years, I had resented Lily.
Now all I could think about was her standing in that red emergency light while our parents dragged her away.
Mercer’s radio crackled.
An officer found hotel surveillance footage.
Dad’s SUV had exited onto Fifty-Eighth Street.
Another unit was following.
Then Mercer’s phone rang.
He answered.
His expression changed almost immediately.
“What?”
He listened.
“Secure the scene.”
He disconnected.
“What happened?”
He looked at me.
“The lab ran a preliminary screen on your champagne.”
I held my breath.
“It contained a high dose of prescription sedative.”
My knees almost gave out.
“If I had drunk it?”
“You probably would have lost consciousness.”
I imagined myself collapsing at the wedding.
Mom crying.
Dad telling everyone I had mixed medication and alcohol.
Someone calling an ambulance.
Someone photographing me.
A judge later being shown evidence that Claire Holloway was unstable.
Mercer’s radio crackled again.
The pursuing unit had lost Dad’s SUV.
Then another voice came through.
“Agent Mercer, we located Mrs. Holloway.”
My heart jumped.
“Which one?”
The answer came seconds later.
“Margaret Holloway.”
“Where?”
“West Fifty-Seventh Street.”
The officer paused.
“She’s alone.”
“And Robert?”
“Gone.”
“Lily?”
Another pause.
May you like
“Gone too.”
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