Chapter 4: The Bridal Suite Safe
Sophie remained under observation with a police officer outside her room.
I returned to the Whitmore Hotel with Detective Torres just after sunrise.
The wedding ballroom looked different in daylight.
The candles had burned out.
The flowers were beginning to wilt.
The shattered glass had been cleared away.
But the oak menu board remained inside a marked evidence area.
Its gold lettering was still visible.
I forced myself to look away.
Lauren and Preston’s bridal suite was on the twenty-third floor.
The keycard Lauren left for me unlocked the door.
The room had been abandoned in a hurry.
A half-open suitcase lay on the bed.
Lauren’s veil had been thrown across a chair.
Two champagne glasses stood untouched beside the window.
The wall safe was hidden behind a framed painting.
I entered the four-digit combination.
The lock clicked.
Inside were three items.
A stack of cash.
A burner phone.
And a legal document bearing my signature.
I pulled it out.
It was a transfer agreement.
According to the document, I had voluntarily surrendered my entire ownership interest in Hartwell Development Group to Preston for one dollar.
The signature looked almost perfect.
Almost.
“He forged it,” I said.
Maya photographed every page.
“Would this document be enough to transfer your shares?”
“Not alone. It would need to be notarized and delivered to the family attorney.”
“Who’s the notary?”
I turned to the final page.
The notary stamp belonged to my mother.
Celia Hart.
My mother had helped forge the transfer.
Maya examined the burner phone.
The screen wasn’t locked.
There were only four messages.
The first came from a number saved as M.
She says she’s bringing the audit drive.
The second:
Use the phone. Search the jacket in public. No one can accuse you of stealing it.
The third message had been sent moments after Sophie was hurt.
You went too far. Get the drive and finish this.
The final message came eleven minutes later.
The girl’s jacket is with Celia. Meet at the garage.
Maya photographed the screen.
“Do you recognize the way your father texts?”
“Yes.”
I pointed at the first message.
“He never writes complete sentences. My mother does.”
“So M could be your mother.”
“Or Martin.”
The names fit both of my parents.
I looked deeper into the safe.
There was one more object beneath the cash.
A hotel master keycard.
The same type of card used to access the security system.
“Your parents didn’t just help frame Sophie,” Maya said. “They planned to erase the video afterward.”
A sound came from the bedroom.
We both turned.
The closet door moved.
Maya drew her weapon.
“Chicago Police. Come out slowly.”
The door opened.
Lauren stepped into the room.
Her wedding dress was gone.
She wore jeans, a sweater, and no shoes.
Mascara streaked beneath her eyes.
“I didn’t know he was going to hurt her,” she said.
Maya kept her voice firm.
“Where have you been?”
“Hiding.”
“From Preston?”
Lauren looked at me.
“From all of them.”
She handed me her phone.
On the screen was a video recorded the night before the wedding.
Preston stood in this same room with my parents.
My father’s voice was clear.
“Once Evelyn is gone, we take the drive, file the transfer, and make sure no one believes a word she says.”
Then my mother asked the question that changed everything.
“And what happens if the camera catches us?”
May you like
My father smiled.
“It won’t. I already paid someone to erase it.”
