Chapter 10 - The Locker Key
Victor was right.
Storage 317 was empty.
Ortiz got a warrant before anyone touched it, and the next morning I stood behind yellow tape in a concrete hallway that smelled like dust and motor oil.
The unit contained one metal chair, one dead lightbulb, and a rectangle on the floor where a filing cabinet had clearly sat.
Maya whispered, "He moved it."
Ortiz crouched near the wall. "Maybe not everything."
Behind a loose strip of baseboard, an officer found a folded receipt.
A hotel receipt.
Two nights at the Lakeside Motor Inn. Room 214. Paid cash, but the reservation name was E. Cole.
Evelyn looked sick when Ortiz showed it to her.
"I never stayed there."
"Then who used your name?"
"Victor. He uses fake reservations for meetings."
"With who?"
Evelyn hesitated.
Ortiz snapped, "This would be a great time to develop a relationship with the truth."
Evelyn looked at me instead.
"There was another woman."
I almost rolled my eyes. "Of course there was."
"Not like that. She worked for Richard. Payroll. Her name was Denise Harper. She discovered missing money four years ago. Victor paid her to resign."
Richard's face hardened. "You told me Denise moved to Arizona for her mother."
"That's what Victor told me."
"Did you ever check?"
Evelyn had no answer.
Ortiz ran the name.
Denise Harper had not moved to Arizona.
She had disappeared from official employment records after leaving Richard's company, but her driver's license was renewed locally the previous year.
Then Maya noticed something on the hotel receipt.
A handwritten number near the bottom.
214 - FRI - 9PM.
Tonight.
Ortiz set up surveillance. I was told to stay home.
I did not argue.
For once, I was tired of being the person in the middle of every explosion.
At 8:43 p.m., my phone rang.
Unknown number.
I answered without speaking.
A woman's voice said, "Claire? My name is Denise Harper."
I sat up.
"Where are you?"
"You need to listen carefully. The police are watching the wrong room."
My skin prickled.
"How do you know that?"
"Because Victor knows about the warrant. He knows about the hotel. He knows about Detective Ortiz."
A door slammed on her end.
Denise gasped.
"He found me."
The line went dead.
Then a photo arrived on my phone.
It showed Denise tied to a chair.
Behind her was a familiar stained-glass window.
Richard's office.
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