Chapter 2 - The Ledger in the Linens
Patricia slowly stood up, her instincts as a mother and a survivor screaming at her to move fast.
She walked over to the suite’s main door, turned the heavy brass deadbolt, slid the security chain into place, and pulled the black privacy curtain over the peephole. She then moved across the suite, grabbing the velvet throw blanket from the sofa and wrapping it firmly around Melissa’s shivering shoulders.
"Where is this ledger?" Patricia asked quietly, kneeling back down.
Melissa swallowed hard, looking toward the hallway closet where a stack of fresh white towels and bed linens sat on a wooden shelf. "Inside the third pillowcase from the top. I slipped it in there two hours ago while he was down at the hotel lounge meeting his contact."
Patricia stood up, walked to the closet, and reached for the stack of folded linens. She slid her hand into the third cotton pillowcase until her fingers brushed against something hard, flat, and cold. She pulled it out.
It was a dark navy blue, leather-bound ledger, secured with a heavy brass clasp. Stuck between the pages were several micro-SD cards held in clear plastic sleeves, along with a series of printed bank transfer confirmations bearing the official stamp of the Swiss Banking Authority.
Patricia flipped the ledger open. Though she wasn't a forensic accountant, the columns of numbers were chillingly clear. Multi-million dollar figures were listed alongside dates, wire routing codes, and names—names of prominent local judges, city council members, and high-ranking police officials.
And sitting right at the bottom of the current page was the name of Patricia’s employer: Grand Horizon Holding Corp.
"My father founded an investment firm thirty years ago," Melissa said softly, her voice regaining a trace of strength as she watched Patricia scan the pages. "Two years ago, Thomas married me and persuaded my father to give him control of our family’s offshore trusts. Within eighteen months, he had siphoned off eighty million dollars. When my father tried to audit the accounts last month... he had an unexpected, fatal heart attack."
Patricia looked up from the book, her stomach turning. "He poisoned your father?"
"I found the medical records three days ago in Thomas’s private study at home," Melissa sobbed, clutching the blanket around herself. "A synthetic cardiac paralyzer. It leaves no trace in a standard autopsy. I tried to run, but his men tracked my cell phone to this hotel. He was going to use that same chemical on me tonight, make it look like an overdose from the shock of my father's death, and take total control of the remaining estate."
Before Patricia could reply, her two-way staff radio clipped to her hip beeped loudly, static cutting through the quiet room.
"Patricia, come in," the sharp, annoyed voice of the head housekeeper, Mrs. Gable, blared through the speaker. "Patricia, why is Penthouse 402 showing as locked from the inside? Mr. Sterling’s private party is scheduled to occupy that suite in twenty minutes. Clear the room immediately and report to the basement laundry."
Patricia stared at the small black radio in her hand. Her chest tightened.
May you like
She looked at Melissa, then at the ledger, and finally at her heavy cleaning cart sitting in the hallway outside the cracked door.
"He knows," Patricia whispered. "Thomas didn't run away. He went to get Sterling."
