Chapter 2 - Camera 14
Lena moved before Marcus reached the service hall.
She grabbed an empty tray, lowered her head, and followed a group of servers entering the main kitchen.
Behind her, a security guard called, “Miss?”
She did not turn.
Steam rose from industrial ovens. Chefs moved between metal counters, shouting over the noise of plates and carts.
Lena set the tray beside a stack of dishes and slipped through a door marked STAFF ONLY.
The west corridor stretched before her.
It was narrower than the others, lined with locked offices, storage rooms, and security cameras mounted in black glass domes.
Camera 14 hung at the far end.
The digital clock on Lena’s phone read 6:12.
She walked quickly but forced herself not to run.
At the next intersection, she heard footsteps behind her.
Marcus Vale appeared around the corner.
He wore a black suit with no visible weapon, but there was something more threatening about the calm way he moved.
“Ms. Cross.”
Lena stopped.
So the false badge had not fooled him.
Marcus approached slowly.
“You’re a long way from your assigned section.”
“I was looking for the uniform room.”
“You passed it.”
“I must have missed the sign.”
Marcus studied her.
Up close, he seemed older than he appeared in photographs. Fine scars marked one side of his neck. His eyes were gray and unreadable.
“Have we met?” he asked.
“No.”
“I knew your brother.”
Lena said nothing.
“He was intelligent,” Marcus continued. “Too intelligent to understand how little he knew.”
“You mean he found something.”
“I mean curiosity can become dangerous when mistaken for courage.”
Lena’s hands tightened around the tray.
“Did you kill him?”
The corridor seemed to become silent around them.
Marcus did not react.
Then he glanced toward the camera.
“Not here.”
A security radio crackled beneath his jacket.
A voice said, “Mr. Vale, Mrs. Whitmore is asking for you.”
Marcus lifted the radio.
“Tell her I’m handling it.”
He looked back at Lena.
“You need to leave this hotel.”
“Why?”
“Because someone brought you here to be seen.”
“Daniel Reyes brought me here.”
Marcus’s expression changed slightly.
“Daniel is dead.”
The tray nearly slipped from Lena’s hands.
“You’re lying.”
“His body was found in a warehouse three hours ago.”
Lena stepped backward.
Marcus reached into his jacket.
She prepared to run.
Instead, he removed a small brass key and placed it on her tray.
“Camera 14 has a blind spot,” he said. “At 6:15, the records room door will unlock for thirty seconds.”
“Why are you helping me?”
“I didn’t say I was.”
The clock on Lena’s phone changed to 6:14.
Marcus moved past her.
“Your brother hid something in that room,” he said quietly. “If you find it, do not trust the first person who tells you what it means.”
He continued toward the kitchen.
Lena stared at the key.
At precisely 6:15, a green light appeared above the records room door.
She inserted the key.
The lock clicked.
Inside, the room was dark and cold.
Metal shelves held maintenance logs, banquet records, employee files, and security backups. An old computer sat on a desk beneath a vent.
Lena turned on her phone light.
She searched the shelves for anything connected to Owen.
Nothing.
Twenty seconds passed.
The green light outside turned yellow.
Lena examined the desk.
A faint scratch had been carved into the wood.
OC-31.
Owen Cross.
Thirty-one had been his employee number.
Lena pulled open the drawers.
The first held pens.
The second held cables.
The third was locked.
She tried the brass key.
It opened.
Inside lay a silver watch.
Lena recognized it immediately.
She had given it to Owen on his twenty-fifth birthday.
The watch had not been recovered from the car after his death.
Beneath it lay a folded hotel receipt dated eleven months earlier, the night Owen died.
Room 1708.
Guest name: E. Whitmore.
Lena unfolded the receipt fully.
On the back, Owen had written four words.
THE POISON ISN’T CHEMICAL.
The records room light suddenly switched on.
Lena turned.
Julian Whitmore stood in the doorway.
He was taller than he looked in photographs, dressed in a dark tuxedo with his tie still undone.
His eyes moved from Lena to the watch in her hand.
“Where did you get that?”
“It belonged to my brother.”
Julian closed the door behind him.
“You’re Owen’s sister.”
“You knew him.”
“Yes.”
“Were you in Room 1708 the night he died?”
Julian looked at the receipt.
“That room was registered to Eleanor.”
“Did my brother meet her?”
“No.”
“How do you know?”
“Because he met me.”
Lena stared at him.
Julian stepped closer but kept his hands visible.
“Owen called me that afternoon. He said he had evidence that someone was stealing from the company and using my father’s private accounts to cover it. He asked me to meet him here.”
“What happened?”
“He never arrived.”
“The receipt proves he did.”
“It proves his watch was here.”
Lena remembered Marcus’s warning.
Do not trust the first person who tells you what it means.
“Why didn’t you tell the police?” she asked.
“Because the police report had already been written before his car was found.”
“That doesn’t make sense.”
“It will.”
A beep sounded outside.
The lock was about to reactivate.
Julian took the receipt and photographed both sides with his phone.
Then he returned it.
“You need to leave before Eleanor sees you again.”
“She already saw me.”
His face hardened.
“When?”
“Ten minutes ago.”
Julian moved to the door.
“Then we have less time than I thought.”
“Time for what?”
“To find out who invited you.”
“Daniel Reyes.”
“Daniel hasn’t spoken to anyone in three weeks.”
“Marcus said Daniel is dead.”
Julian looked back at her.
“Marcus is wrong.”
“How do you know?”
“Because Daniel called me five minutes ago.”
Lena’s phone vibrated.
A photograph appeared from an unknown number.
It showed Lena standing inside the records room with Julian.
The image had been taken through the small glass panel in the door.
Below it was a message.
May you like
YOU HAVE FOUND THE WRONG WHITMORE.
Then the room went dark.
