I saw camouflage.
Vanessa was gone.
Suspended.
Eric was still working.
Richard was in his office.
I walked past the reception desk.
A young receptionist stood there.
She recognized me immediately.
“Good morning, Ms. Bennett.”
“Good morning.”
She smiled nervously.
“Can I help you?”
“Yes.”
I placed an old photograph on the desk.
“Do you know this woman?”
She looked at it.
“No.”
“Her name is Evelyn Price.”
The receptionist shook her head.
“I've never heard of her.”
“That is what everyone says.”
I picked up the photograph.
“That's why I'm asking.”
I walked toward the executive elevators.
Richard was waiting for me.
“You shouldn't be here.”
“I own the hotel.”
“You know what I mean.”
“Yes.”
He closed the office door.
“You found Graham.”
“Yes.”
“He's willing to talk.”
“Under what conditions?”
“Legal immunity.”
I stared at him.
“Impossible.”
“He says he can prove your father was murdered.”
I felt the air leave my lungs.
“What?”
“He claims he has evidence.”
“Where?”
“With him.”
“Then bring him.”
“He won't come.”
“Why?”
“Because he believes someone will kill him.”
I stared at Richard.
“Do you believe him?”
Richard didn't answer.
“That means yes.”
He sat down.
“I've been afraid for fifteen years.”
“Of Graham?”
“No.”
“Then who?”
Richard looked at me.
“I don't know.”
“You've spent fifteen years knowing something was wrong.”
“Yes.”
“And you never told me.”
“Your father made me promise.”
“My father is dead.”
“I know.”
“You could have protected me.”
“I thought I was.”
I stared at him.
“You call silence protection?”
He looked away.
“When you are afraid enough,” he said quietly, “silence starts to feel like survival.”
I understood that.
But I couldn't forgive it.
Not yet.
“Where is Graham?”
“Zurich.”
“I'll go.”
Richard stood.
“No.”
“Yes.”
“You don't understand.”
“I understand perfectly.”
“He's dangerous.”
“Then I'll take security.”
“Maya.”
I looked at him.
“You once told me that I couldn't walk into every room just because I owned the company.”
“Yes.”
“You were right.”
I paused.
“But you were wrong about one thing.”
“What?”
“I don't need permission.”
That afternoon, I flew to Switzerland.
Daniel came with me.
So did two private security officers.
Noah stayed in London with my sister, Emma.
Before I left, he hugged me.
“Are you coming back?”
“Yes.”
“Promise?”
I smiled.
“I promise.”
He looked at me seriously.
“Be careful.”
“I will.”
“And don't let bad people scare you.”
I kissed his forehead.
“I won't.”
The flight was short.
The fear was not.
When we arrived in Zurich, Graham's lawyer met us at the airport.
He was a small man with silver glasses and a nervous expression.
“Ms. Bennett.”
“Yes.”
“My client wants to speak with you.”
“Where?”
“He has arranged a secure location.”
“Why secure?”
The lawyer looked at me.
“Because he believes his life is in danger.”
We drove for nearly an hour.
The location was a private house overlooking a frozen lake.
Graham was waiting inside.
He looked nothing like the powerful executive I remembered.
He was thin.
Pale.
Older.
He walked with a cane.
When he saw me, he stopped.
“You look like your father.”
I didn't answer.
He looked down.
“I suppose you hate me.”
“I don't know you well enough to hate you.”
He gave a sad smile.
“You're like him.”
“Don't compare me to my father.”
“Why?”
“Because if you knew him, you would know what I'm capable of doing.”
Graham sat.
I remained standing.
“Tell me about Evelyn.”
His expression changed.
“She found everything.”
“What?”
“The money.”
“Whose money?”
“The network.”
“Who ran it?”
He looked at me.
“I did.”
My stomach tightened.
“You?”
“I was one of them.”
Daniel moved slightly behind me.
I raised a hand.
“Keep going.”
Graham took a breath.
“Your father discovered that several executives were diverting money through shell companies.”
“Martin?”
“Yes.”
“Richard?”
“No.”
I stared at him.
“Then why did Richard look guilty?”
“Because he knew.”
“Knew what?”
“That your father was in danger.”
“Who was behind it?”
Graham looked toward the window.
“Someone above us.”
“Who?”
He closed his eyes.
“Your father's biggest investor.”
I frowned.
“My father had hundreds of investors.”
“Not like this one.”
“Name him.”
Graham looked at me.
“James Whitmore.”
I felt the room change.
James Whitmore.
Chairman of the Bennett Hospitality board.
The man who had sat beside me two days earlier.
The man who had asked whether I had enough evidence.
The man who had authorized the investigation.
I stared at Graham.
“You're lying.”
“I wish I were.”
“Why would he want my father dead?”
“Your father was going to expose him.”
“For what?”
Graham leaned forward.
“Everything.”
Then he reached into his coat.
He removed a small envelope.
He placed it on the table.
“This belonged to Evelyn.”
I stared at it.
“Where did you get it?”
“Your father gave it to me the night before he died.”
“Why?”
“Because he thought I could protect it.”
I opened the envelope.
Inside was a photograph.
A handwritten note.
And a key.
The photograph showed my father meeting James Whitmore.
The note contained only one sentence.
If Maya ever finds this, tell her the Beaumont account is only the beginning.
I looked at the key.
“What does this open?”
Graham shook his head.
“Your father never told me.”
I turned the key over.
There was a number engraved on it.
417.
Daniel looked at me.
“Room 417.”
I shook my head.
“No.”
“What?”
“Beaumont Crown doesn't have a room 417.”
Graham smiled sadly.
“Exactly.”
Room 417
We returned to London the next morning.
I did not tell the board where I had been.
I did not tell James Whitmore.
I did not tell anyone except Daniel.
The key remained in my possession.
Room 417.
A room that officially did not exist.
I went directly to Beaumont Crown.
Richard met me in the lobby.
“You found him.”
“Yes.”
“And?”
“He gave me this.”
I held up the key.