Chapter 1 - The Kick That Stopped the Music
"Swing at me again, and you'll hit the floor."
The warning came from the woman in black, not the blonde in the thousand-dollar gown.
Celeste Voss swung anyway.
Her palm cut toward Iris Navarro's face with the confidence of someone who had never been told no. Iris caught the blow on her forearm, turned her hips, and sent Celeste's weight past her. A hundred guests gasped as Celeste stumbled against a cream-colored bench.
"You attacked me!" Celeste screamed, rising in a glittering storm of fabric. "Everybody saw it!"
"They saw you swing," Iris said.
Adrian Mercer pushed through the guests. His black tuxedo was immaculate, but his face had gone pale. "Celeste, stop. Both of you, please."
"That woman has no right to be here." Celeste pointed at Iris. "She came to ruin our engagement announcement. Have security throw her out."
Iris glanced toward the double doors. Two guards stood on either side of them. Neither moved. That worried her more than Celeste's temper.
"I came because your chief engineer called me," Iris said. "He said someone had found records from the Saint Alder fire."
Adrian looked at Celeste. She looked at a man near the back wall, broad-shouldered and gray-haired, wearing a hotel security badge. Cedric Holt, the director of risk management, reached slowly into his jacket.
Celeste lunged again, this time kicking high with the slit of her dress flying open. Iris shifted to the side, caught her own balance on the slick marble, and brought her black boot up. She stopped it inches from Celeste's face. Not a scratch. Not a touch. Just a line Celeste could finally see.
"Enough," Iris said.
A crash exploded at the ballroom entrance. A silver serving tray spun across the floor. Spoons and small forks scattered beneath the guests' shoes.
Marisol Reyes, a housekeeper in a gray uniform, stood in the doorway shaking so hard she could barely speak.
"Mr. Mercer!" she cried. "They're locking the service exits. Mr. Bell tried to stop them, and Holt's men took him downstairs."
"You're fired," Celeste snapped.
May you like
Marisol didn't even look at her. "There's something else. The fire alarm panel has been shut off."
Then the ballroom lights blinked, and from somewhere behind the walls came three short, unmistakable knocks.
