Chapter 9 - THE SECRET HIDDEN IN ROOM 417|
By Sunday evening, I had learned that someone could steal your name without ever touching your face.
Vivienne had stolen mine to open a bank account.
Someone had copied my signature onto a legal statement.
And now a hotel room associated with Lakefront Capital had been reserved using my identity.
I was beginning to understand how easily an ordinary person's life could be dismantled by people with enough money.
But I was also beginning to understand something else.
They had made one serious mistake.
They assumed I would be too frightened to fight back.
The hotel was a modest business property near Lake Michigan.
Its fourth floor overlooked a parking garage and a narrow street lined with bare trees.
Detective Brooks had coordinated with hotel management before we arrived.
Two uniformed officers waited nearby.
Maya came with me.
Luca remained at the townhouse with Frank after Brooks made it clear that the police would handle the search for Corinne.
I understood why.
This wasn't the kind of danger that could be solved by Luca threatening somebody.
It needed witnesses.
Evidence.
People who couldn't simply be paid to forget what happened.
When we reached Room 417, Detective Brooks knocked.
"Chicago Police Department."
No answer.
She knocked again.
"Corinne Hale, if you're inside, we're here to help."
A faint voice came through the door.
"Is Claire there?"
I stepped forward.
"I'm here, Corinne."
Several seconds passed.
Then the lock clicked.
Corinne stood in the doorway.
Her face was pale.
Her hair was tangled.
And she held a small black handbag against her chest.
Behind her stood a teenage girl with frightened blue eyes.
"Sophie," Corinne whispered, "this is Claire."
The girl looked at me.
"Mom said you helped an old man."
My throat tightened.
"I tried."
She glanced toward the police officers.
"Are we going to be safe?"
Detective Brooks answered before I could.
"We're going to do everything we can to keep you safe."
Corinne stepped aside.
The hotel room was nearly empty.
Two small suitcases rested beside the bed.
The curtains were closed.
And a half-eaten sandwich sat on the desk.
Corinne looked as though she hadn't slept in days.
"Vivienne told me to open the account," she began.
Maya gently interrupted.
"Corinne, before you explain everything, we should make sure you understand your rights and have access to independent legal advice."
Corinne nodded.
She agreed to speak with investigators after consulting counsel.
For the moment, she wanted us to know why she'd called.
She opened her handbag and removed a small flash drive.
"I made copies," she whispered.
"Of what?" I asked.
"Everything I could."
She placed it on the desk.
"Emails, instructions, invoices, the original file used to make Frank's guardianship petition."
I stared at the drive.
"Why keep them?"
Corinne's eyes filled with tears.
"Because I knew something was wrong."
She looked toward Sophie.
"And because I was afraid they'd blame me when it was over."
Sophie moved closer to her mother.
Corinne wrapped an arm around her.
"Vivienne told me the account in your name was part of a temporary payroll arrangement."
I felt sick.
"She told you that?"
"Yes."
"When did you realize it wasn't?"
"After I saw the transfer amount."
Corinne swallowed.
"Two hundred and fifty thousand dollars."
I looked at Detective Brooks.
She nodded slightly.
The amount matched the transaction under investigation.
Corinne continued.
"When I asked about it, Vivienne told me I had already done enough to become an accomplice."
Her voice broke.
"Then Matteo sent someone to my daughter's school."
Sophie lowered her head.
A cold fury rose inside me.
They had threatened an innocent teenage girl to silence her mother.
For several moments, I couldn't speak.
Maya gently guided Corinne toward a chair.
"You're doing the right thing by seeking help."
Corinne looked at me.
"There's more."
She pointed toward the flash drive.
"One folder contains a medical assessment prepared for Frank."
"Dr. Nora Vale?" I asked.
Corinne nodded.
"The report was written before she ever met him."
I stared at her.
"How is that possible?"
"Vivienne sent her a list of symptoms she wanted included."
Detective Brooks took a careful breath.
"That will need to be verified."
Corinne nodded.
"I know."
Then she said something that frightened me even more.
"There's a transport reservation."
I looked at her.
"For Frank?"
"Yes."
"To what facility?"
Corinne shook her head.
"I couldn't confirm that it was a real care facility."
She described a private transport company scheduled to collect Frank at six o'clock Monday morning.
The booking used an alternate name.
The destination was listed only as a rural property in Wisconsin.
I felt a shiver crawl up my spine.
"Why would they use a false name?"
Corinne looked toward Sophie.
"Vivienne said if the court delayed the guardianship, they needed somewhere Frank could be kept until things settled down."
Maya's expression hardened.
"That's not elder care."
"No," Corinne whispered.
"It's not."
Detective Brooks contacted her team.
The information was serious enough to warrant urgent investigation.
But it was not yet proof that every person involved had committed the crimes we suspected.
The detectives would need to authenticate the files, identify the people behind the transport arrangement, and establish who had authorized it.
As we prepared to leave, Corinne caught my hand.
"Claire, I'm sorry."
I looked at her.
"For what?"
"I knew Vivienne was cruel."
Her eyes filled.
"I heard what she said about Frank."
"Then why didn't you tell anyone?"
"Because I was afraid I'd lose my job."
She glanced at Sophie.
"And my daughter needed me."
I understood that fear.
I had felt it myself when Vivienne ordered me to remove Frank's chair.
I had obeyed her.
And I had hated myself for doing it.
"Corinne," I said softly, "fear makes people do things they regret."
She began crying.
"But you're here now."
As the police escorted her and Sophie out, my phone vibrated.
It was a message from an unknown number.
A photograph appeared.
It showed the outside of Frank's townhouse.
Taken that evening.
Beneath it were six words.
WE KNOW WHERE YOU HID HIM.
Then a second message arrived.
TELL LUCA HIS FATHER COMES HOME TONIGHT.
I stared at the photograph.
May you like
They knew exactly where Frank was.
And they had stopped pretending that the court was going to decide his fate.
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