“Did Mr. Caldwell know I was coming?” I asked.
“I don’t think so.”
“Good.”
Lupita’s eyes widened slightly.
I reached into my jacket and pulled out one of my business cards. It was simple, white, and unmarked except for my name and a private number. No title. No company logo.
“If anything happens because you helped us tonight, call me.”
She looked down at the card.
“Ethan Vance,” she read. Then her face changed.
Recognition did not come all at once. It moved across her features slowly, like dawn behind clouds. Her hand flew to her mouth.
“Oh.”
I gave a faint smile. “Please don’t say it loudly. Lily just fell asleep.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”
“That’s why it mattered.”
Her eyes shone with something between worry and relief. “Then you should know something else.”
I waited.
“Two weeks ago, a night auditor named Thomas Reed was dismissed. They said he made errors in guest accounts, but Thomas was careful. Too careful, maybe. Before he left, he told me he found old charges being moved between accounts. Small amounts. Not enough for most guests to notice. He tried to report it.”
“To Caldwell?”
She nodded.
“And then he was fired.”
“Yes.”
Outside the window, a train curved through the city, its lights sliding between buildings.
“Do you have a way to contact Thomas?”
“I might. His wife used to text me about shift swaps.”
“Don’t contact him yet,” I said. “Not tonight.”
Lupita nodded, then placed my backpack on the luggage stand.
At the door, she paused. “Mr. Vance?”
“Yes?”
“Your wife chose the roses in the ballroom ceiling, didn’t she?”
The question surprised me.
“She did.”