Chapter 5: Someone Was Locked Upstairs
I held Sophie against my chest while Claire took control of the lobby.
"Marcus, secure the public entrances," she ordered.
"Nobody enters or leaves without being identified. Keep the emergency exits clear.""
Marcus nodded and moved toward the doors.
Claire turned to her colleague.
"Restore the surveillance system if you can, but don't overwrite the existing logs.""
He hurried toward the security station.
I handed Sophie back to Melissa.
"Keep her here, please. Don't let her out of your sight.""
Sophie clutched my shirt.
"Daddy, don't go.""
I brushed her curls away from her forehead.
"I won't be far, sweetheart. I promise.""
"That man is scary.""
I looked at Richard, who was standing near the reception desk with his hands hanging at his sides.
"I know, baby. But you're safe.""
I waited until Melissa had settled Sophie into the chair before turning back to Claire.
"Someone is locked upstairs. We need to find them.""
"We will," she said.
"But we need to do this carefully. If someone deliberately disabled the cameras, they may be trying to hide movement through the building.""
"Can we access the service elevator?""
"Not until we know whether it's safe.""
Richard suddenly laughed.
It was a hollow, ugly sound.
"You really think you can fix this by marching upstairs with a security team?""
I faced him.
"Do you know who's locked inside?""
He looked away.
"Richard.""
His shoulders sagged.
"There's a storage room behind the old banquet kitchen.""
"What's inside it?""
"I don't know.""
"Stop lying.""
He flinched.
"I heard someone shouting from there last week. I was told it was a contractor who had violated the building rules.""
"Who told you?""
He rubbed his forehead.
"Victor.""
Claire stepped closer.
"And you did nothing?""
Richard's expression twisted.
"I have a family. A mortgage. You think I can just accuse the company's chief financial officer of doing something illegal?""
"You could have called the police.""
"And told them what? That my boss had a room I wasn't supposed to know about?""
"You're the night manager. You had access to the building.""
He stared at the floor.
"I thought it was temporary.""
"What's temporary?"" I asked.
He swallowed.
"The guests.""
I felt my stomach turn.
"What guests?""
Richard glanced toward the security station, then lowered his voice.
"People who paid extra for privacy. People who didn't want their names appearing in the system.""
Claire's face hardened.
"How many?""
"I don't know.""
"How many, Richard?""
"Sometimes two or three a week. Sometimes more.""
"Who collected the money?""
He hesitated.
Then he whispered, "Victor's people.""
The pieces began to fall into place.
Guests were being turned away despite confirmed reservations. Rooms were disappearing from the official system. Payments were being diverted. And somewhere above the hotel's twenty-second floor, people were staying in a section that supposedly didn't exist.
I had spent years inspecting our financial statements, approving budgets, and trusting the people I'd hired to run the business.
Yet I had never considered that someone might be operating an entirely separate hotel inside my own.
"Take us to the service corridor," I said.
Claire shook her head.
"Not yet. We need law enforcement involved if there's a possibility someone is being held against their will.""
"Then call them.""
"I already have.""
She pulled out her phone and stepped aside to speak with the dispatcher.
Meanwhile, the man at the security station called out.
"Claire, I've got something.""
We hurried over.
He had restored part of the hotel's internal network, though the surveillance feeds remained unavailable.
A series of access logs filled his screen.
"Someone used a master credential to disable the cameras at 10:17 p.m.," he said.
"The command came from a terminal in the restricted administrative office.""
"Whose credentials?"" Claire asked.
He zoomed in.
"Victor Hale.""
I felt a cold weight settle in my chest.
"Can you track the terminal?""
"Not physically. The network records show the administrative office, but the command could have been issued remotely through a secured connection.""
Claire pointed at another entry.
"What is this?""
The technician enlarged the line.
A keycard had accessed the restricted elevator zone at 10:19 p.m., two minutes after the cameras went dark.
The card belonged to Richard.
Richard shook his head violently.
"I didn't go upstairs!""
"Your card did," Claire replied.
"Someone must have taken it!""
"Who had access?""
He looked at the receptionist.
Melissa stood frozen beside Sophie.
"Did anyone take Richard's keycard?"" I asked her.
She shook her head.
Then she looked at Richard.
"You gave Victor a spare.""
His head snapped toward her.
"Shut up.""
Melissa took a frightened step backward.
"You told me it was for emergencies. You said he needed access when you weren't here.""
Richard grabbed the edge of the desk.
"That was different.""
"Different how?"" I asked.
He didn't answer.
Claire moved between him and Melissa.
"Mr. Collins, step away from the desk.""
He obeyed, breathing heavily.
The technician suddenly pointed at the screen.
"Wait. There's another entry.""
He opened the file.
A guest-room door on the twenty-second floor had been unlocked with a master credential at 10:21 p.m.
The room number was 2218.
I recognized it immediately.
It was directly beneath the section of the building where the restricted elevator access had been recorded.
"Can we see the room's reservation history?"" I asked.
The technician shook his head.
"That's the strange part. Room 2218 has been marked out of service for maintenance for the last four months.""
"Has it been generating revenue?""
He typed rapidly.
"No official revenue. But there are repeated access records, linen deliveries, and minibar restocking requests.""
Claire stared at the screen.
"Someone has been using a supposedly empty room.""
"And somebody entered it tonight," I said.
The technician clicked another log.
A message appeared beside the access record.
*ROOM 2218 — OCCUPANT TRANSFER AUTHORIZED.*
Below it was a timestamp and a name.
Victor Hale.
I looked toward Richard.
"What occupant was transferred?""
He pressed his lips together.
"I don't know.""
"Then why do you look terrified?""
He slowly raised his eyes.
"Because room 2218 wasn't supposed to be used anymore.""
"Why not?""
He glanced toward the elevator bank.
"Because the last person who stayed there disappeared.""
Before I could ask another question, the hotel's main doors opened.
Two uniformed police officers entered, followed by a woman in a dark suit carrying an identification folder.
She approached Claire.
"I'm Detective Elena Brooks, Atlanta Police Department. We received a report of possible unlawful confinement and evidence tampering.""
Claire briefed her quickly and showed her the access logs.
The detective's expression grew more serious with every line.
When she reached the entry for room 2218, she stopped.
"Who is this occupant?""
Richard began shaking his head.
"I can't tell you.""
Detective Brooks looked directly at him.
"Mr. Collins, if someone is being held against their will, we need to find them now.""
He swallowed.
Then, finally, he spoke.
"It's a woman.""
"What's her name?""
Richard looked at me.
His voice barely carried across the room.
"Emily Bennett.""
My heart stopped.
Emily was my younger sister.
She had vanished eighteen months earlier after telling me she was investigating irregularities in our company's finances.
We had searched hospitals, contacted friends, hired investigators, and followed every lead we could find.
The police had eventually classified her disappearance as a possible voluntary departure.
I had never believed that explanation.
I stared at Richard.
"Why is my sister in my hotel?""
He squeezed his eyes shut.
"Because she found out what Victor was doing.""
May you like
Then he added one sentence that made the entire room go silent.
"She's been missing for eighteen months, Mr. Bennett. But she's only been locked upstairs for the last three days.""
