Chapter 2 - The Hidden Floor
The fifty-first floor did not appear on any public directory.
Charlotte had known about it since childhood.
Her mother called it the Crown Room.
Only members of the Vale family and two senior trustees were supposed to have access.
When the elevator opened, Charlotte expected darkness.
Instead, the lights were already on.
That frightened her.
Someone had been there.
A long corridor stretched ahead.
Old photographs of the Solmere family covered the walls.
Charlotte saw her grandfather opening the first Solmere Hotel in 1968.
Her mother standing beside him decades later.
Then Charlotte herself at age nine, holding oversized scissors at the opening of Solmere Chicago.
She stopped in front of the photograph.
Her mother’s hand rested proudly on her shoulder.
Charlotte felt the old grief return.
Elizabeth Vale had died only four months earlier.
The official cause was cardiac failure.
Charlotte had never believed it.
At the end of the hallway stood her mother’s private office.
The door was open.
Charlotte entered slowly.
The room had been searched.
Desk drawers hung open.
Books had been pulled from shelves.
A portrait had been removed from the wall.
Someone had definitely been looking for something.
Charlotte remembered the final voicemail her mother had recorded.
“If I’m gone, don’t trust the board.”
Then another sentence.
“Look where your grandfather believed no thief would ever kneel.”
Charlotte had spent weeks trying to understand it.
Now she looked around the room.
Her grandfather had been deeply religious.
There was only one object in the office connected to that part of his life.
A small wooden prayer bench beneath the window.
Charlotte knelt beside it.
She ran her fingers beneath the cushion.
Nothing.
She examined the wooden legs.
One felt loose.
Charlotte twisted it.
A small compartment opened.
Inside was a silver flash drive.
Her heart raced.
She reached for it.
Behind her, the office door slammed shut.
Charlotte spun around.
A man stood there.
Tall.
Gray-haired.
Dressed in the uniform of the hotel’s chief of security.
Arthur Bell.
Charlotte remembered him from childhood.
Her mother trusted him.
But in the Solmere Empire, trust had become dangerous.
“Miss Vale.”
Arthur looked at the flash drive.
“You found it.”
Charlotte stepped backward.
“Did Malcolm send you?”
Arthur didn’t answer.
Charlotte tightened her grip around the drive.
“If you came to take this, you’ll have to fight me for it.”
Arthur suddenly locked the door.
Charlotte’s stomach dropped.
Then he removed his hotel badge.
He placed it on the desk.
“I’m not here for Malcolm.”
He opened his jacket.
Charlotte saw a small digital recorder.
“Your mother asked me to protect you.”
Charlotte stared at him.
Arthur’s eyes filled with grief.
“And she told me something three days before she died.”
Charlotte could barely breathe.
“What?”
Arthur stepped closer.
“Your mother knew someone was poisoning her.”
The words hit Charlotte harder than Vivian’s attack.
Arthur continued.
“She knew who was doing it.”
Charlotte looked at the flash drive.
“Is the name on here?”
Arthur nodded.
“More than a name.”
A loud noise suddenly came from the hallway.
Footsteps.
Several people.
Arthur’s expression changed.
“They know you’re here.”
Charlotte shoved the flash drive inside her clothing.
Arthur moved toward a second door hidden behind the bookshelf.
“Go.”
Charlotte hesitated.
“What about you?”
Arthur pulled a handgun from a locked drawer.
“I’ve been waiting four months for them to make this mistake.”
The office door began shaking.
Someone was trying to force it open.
Arthur pushed Charlotte toward the hidden passage.
“Whatever happens, don’t give that drive to the police yet.”
Charlotte stopped.
“Why?”
May you like
Arthur looked directly into her eyes.
“Because one of the detectives investigating your mother’s death works for Malcolm Voss.”
