CHAPTER 6: THE PERSON INSIDE THE HOTEL
The intruder left computers, cash and expensive equipment untouched.
They opened Naomi’s locked filing cabinet and stole one document.
The trust agreement proving Harbor House belonged to the foundation.
Fortunately, Naomi had scanned it.
Unfortunately, a digital copy could be challenged more easily than an original.
“This wasn’t random,” she said. “Someone knew where it was.”
The police questioned her staff.
No forced entry had been detected. Whoever entered the office had used a valid access card.
At noon, Detective Morales called.
“We found the witness who texted you from the wedding.”
Her name was Tessa Grant.
She was nineteen and worked part-time for the catering company. She had been collecting empty glasses when she saw Preston plant the phone in Sophie’s jacket.
“Why didn’t she speak during the reception?” I asked.
“She was afraid of losing her job.”
I understood fear.
I had lived inside it for most of my life.
Morales continued.
“Tessa also saw your father meet with a hotel employee near the security office.”
“Who?”
“Daniel Price. Assistant operations director.”
Marcus Hale had already suspected Daniel of using the regional access code to delete the local footage. Daniel had worked at the Whitmore for six years and recently purchased a luxury car that cost nearly twice his annual salary.
By evening, police had obtained his bank records.
My father had transferred him seventy-five thousand dollars three days before the wedding.
Daniel confessed within two hours.
Richard Bennett instructed him to disable two ballroom cameras, delete the local files and provide a private entrance after the reception.
But Daniel had made a mistake.
He disabled the cameras scheduled on the wedding plan.
He did not know Marcus had installed two temporary cameras after equipment had gone missing during another event.
Those cameras captured everything.
Daniel also admitted my father had called him from the ballroom immediately after Sophie was struck.
“He ordered me to erase it all,” Daniel said in his recorded interview. “He told me the child was fine and that his family would handle her.”
His family.
As though Sophie belonged to him only when ownership was useful.
The next morning, my father was arrested for evidence tampering, conspiracy and suspected financial fraud.
My mother remained free.
She went on television.
She sat beneath soft studio lights and spoke about her heartbreak.
“My daughter has always struggled with resentment,” she told the interviewer. “We love our granddaughter deeply, but Evelyn has manipulated this tragedy for financial advantage.”
The interviewer showed a photograph of Sophie leaving the hospital.
My mother dabbed one eye with a tissue.
“I pray Evelyn stops using that innocent child as a weapon.”
I switched off the television before Sophie entered the room.
But she had already heard.
“Grandma said you’re using me.”
“No.”
“Is everyone going to believe her?”
“Some people will.”
Sophie looked frightened.
“What happens if they do?”
I knelt in front of her.
“The truth doesn’t disappear because someone tells a louder lie.”
That afternoon, Naomi received a package.
No return address.
Inside was the stolen original trust agreement.
Attached to it was a note.
YOUR MOTHER DOESN’T KNOW I KEPT A COPY.
At the bottom was a name neither of us expected.
May you like
Claire Bennett.
Preston’s bride.
