Chapter 14 - Forty-Seven Minutes Underground
Marcus told Grace to stay behind him.
She ignored him.
The service tunnel was narrow and poorly lit.
Old pipes ran along the ceiling.
The Bellamy hotel next door had been closed for renovation, leaving most of the underground corridors unused.
Marcus called security.
No signal.
Grace checked her phone.
One bar.
Then none.
They continued.
A second glove lay near a junction.
Then a smear of blood on a metal railing.
Grace stopped.
“This feels wrong.”
Marcus nodded.
“It is.”
They reached an old maintenance room.
The door was open.
Inside, a man sat on the floor.
Not Adrian.
The fake waiter.
The man who had worked the Caldwell dinner.
His hands were zip-tied.
Blood ran from his temple.
Marcus rushed toward him.
“Can you hear me?”
The man groaned.
Grace crouched.
“What’s your name?”
“Eli.”
“Eli what?”
“Turner.”
“Who did this?”
His eyes opened.
“Locke.”
Grace’s stomach tightened.
“Adrian?”
Eli nodded weakly.
“He said I talked.”
“To whom?”
“I didn’t.”
“I swear.”
Marcus cut the ties with a utility blade.
“Why were you at Bellamy’s the night of the Caldwell dinner?”
Eli looked at Grace.
“They paid me.”
“Who?”
“Woman named Victoria.”
“Instructions came from Adrian.”
“What instructions?”
“Put the recorder under the chair.”
“Make sure Camera Seven stayed clear.”
“Did Adrian tell Brooke to hit me?”
“No.”
“He said she’d yell.”
“He said you’d yell back.”
Grace glanced at Marcus.
“What happened after?”
“I sent him a message.”
“Said it went bad.”
“He told me to disappear.”
“Then yesterday he called.”
“He said he’d pay me more if I brought him old files from the basement.”
“What files?”
“Valet records.”
Grace went cold.
“Did you take them?”
“Yes.”
“Where are they?”
Eli pointed toward a backpack.
Marcus opened it.
The missing 2002 records.
All there.
Grace almost laughed with relief.
“Why didn’t Adrian take them?”
“He did.”
Eli whispered.
“Then he gave them back.”
“That makes no sense.”
“He photographed what he needed.”
“What?”
Eli shook his head.
“I don’t know.”
A noise sounded outside.
Marcus stood.
“Stay here.”
The lights went out.
Darkness swallowed the room.
Grace heard Eli gasp.
Then footsteps.
Fast.
Marcus moved toward the door.
Someone slammed it from outside.
Metal clicked.
Locked.
Grace rushed forward.
“Hey!”
No answer.
Then she smelled smoke.
Eli started coughing.
Marcus looked toward a vent.
“Fire.”
Grace’s heart raced.
“They’re burning the archive.”
Marcus threw his shoulder against the door.
It did not move.
The smoke thickened.
Grace searched the room.
Old tools.
A pipe wrench.
A rusted ladder.
A sprinkler valve.
“Marcus.”
She pointed overhead.
“The fire system.”
He looked.
Renovation lines.
Manual valve.
Marcus climbed the ladder and turned it.
Nothing.
“Again.”
Grace said.
He pulled harder.
The valve opened.
Water exploded from an overhead line.
Cold water drenched all three of them.
Smoke still entered, but slower.
Grace searched the wall.
A service map hung behind a cabinet.
She pulled it down.
“There’s another exit.”
“Where?”
“Utility crawlspace.”
Marcus stared.
“Grace, that’s barely two feet wide.”
“Do you have a better idea?”
They helped Eli through first.
Grace followed.
The crawlspace was filthy and dark.
Every instinct screamed at her to turn back.
Then she remembered her father.
Twenty-four years of silence.
She kept crawling.
Behind her, Marcus cursed.
Ahead, Eli groaned.
Heat built around them.
After what felt like an hour but was actually seven minutes, Eli kicked through a loose panel.
Fresh air rushed in.
They emerged inside the hotel laundry room.
Security reached them moments later.
Firefighters controlled the basement fire before it spread.
The archive suffered damage.
But the stolen records survived inside Eli’s backpack.
So did Adrian’s abandoned phone.
Police took both.
At sunrise, Grace stood outside Bellamy’s wrapped in a firefighter’s blanket.
Harrison arrived.
He saw her.
For once, he did not lecture.
He simply pulled her into his arms.
Grace let him.
After a moment, a detective approached.
“Ms. Bellamy.”
Grace stepped back.
“We unlocked part of Adrian Locke’s phone.”
“What did you find?”
“A draft email.”
“Never sent.”
“To whom?”
The detective looked at Harrison.
“Daniel Bellamy.”
Grace stared.
“Written when?”
“October 2002.”
“Three days before Daniel died.”
The detective handed her a printed copy.
Daniel,
You are right about the money.
You are wrong about my father.
Meet me alone.
I can prove who is actually behind it.
A.L.
Grace read it again.
Then again.
Adrian had been planning to help her father.
At least according to the email.
Which meant the story was not as simple as they thought.
Marcus looked at her.
“If Adrian wasn’t protecting Martin back then…”
May you like
Grace finished the thought.
“Then maybe someone else killed Dad.”
