Chapter 4 - The Ones with No Names
At 3:06 a.m., Detective Simone Alvarez walked into Nico's office with two officers, a body camera, and a face that told him she believed only half of what he had said.
She examined the rabbit, key, and video.
"You should have called us the minute you saw the footage," she said.
"I called after we found the basement."
"Exactly. You found the basement. You touched the bracelet. Your security chief accessed a lock. Every step gives a defense attorney something to attack."
"My mistake," Nico said. "Don't make Mara pay for it."
Simone studied him, visibly surprised by the lack of an argument. Then she knelt beside Sophie.
"I'm Detective Alvarez. I help find people. Do you think you could tell me about the lady with the wrong shoes?"
Nico nodded for Sophie to answer.
"She smelled like oranges," Sophie said. "Not real oranges. The spray people use when they clean elevators. And she had a little moon on her wrist."
Simone wrote it down. "A tattoo?"
"A tiny one. Here." Sophie touched the inside of her wrist.
Dahlia pulled up employee photographs. The cleaning department had eighty-seven workers on record. Twelve were subcontractors with no pictures. Claire Weston's old visitor photo showed a crescent tattoo.
"Weston's badge was canceled in April," Dahlia said. "She shouldn't have been in the building."
"Where did the subcontractors come from?" Simone asked.
"Northline Facilities," Nico said. "Gideon brought them in to cut operating costs."
Simone's pen stopped.
"Northline? We've had complaints about wage theft, intimidation, and missing passports. Every witness changed their story or vanished before we could interview them."
Nico remembered Mara's note: THE ONES WITH NO NAMES.
"There's a staff locker room on the loading level," Dahlia said. "Mara could have hidden something there."
Simone authorized an evidence team to meet them at the sealed entrance. The key opened locker 114, a narrow blue cabinet that smelled faintly of detergent and peppermint gum.
Inside were photocopied pay stubs, a folded list of dates, and a disposable camera. A yellow sticky note was tucked into the back cover.
If I vanish, count the empty uniforms.
On the reverse was a photograph of fifteen cleaners standing outside the hotel at dawn. Four faces had been crossed out in red ink. Beneath them someone had written: GONE, NOT QUIT.
Simone counted the crossed-out faces.
Then Dahlia opened the latest employee roster on her tablet. All four people were still listed as working full-time shifts.
"They've been paying ghosts," she said.
May you like
A fifth name had been added that morning.
MARA REED — TRANSFERRED.
