Chapter 3 - THE RECEPTIONIST WHO KEPT THE RECEIPTS
Rosa arrived at my office after her shift carrying a small notebook and a plastic folder.
“I don't want to cause trouble,” she said.
“You aren't causing trouble. You're reporting what you saw.”
She opened the notebook. For three months, she had recorded incidents involving Blythe. A complimentary suite. A free car service. A private dining room. Repeated demands that the hotel waive charges.
“Why did you write these down?”
“The first time I reported something, the events supervisor told me not to make trouble for Mr. Ellis. After that, I thought I should keep a record.”
She showed me a handwritten note left at the front desk.
“Put the best suite under my name. Conrad said I could use whatever I want.”
The signature looked like Conrad's, but the date was from a day he had been attending a conference in Boston.
“Who gave you this?”
“Blythe.”
“Did you verify it?”
“I called the manager on duty. He told me to follow the note.”
Rosa had saved the original. I scanned it and sent it to Evelyn.
Then she showed me another page. It was from a private dining request two weeks earlier. At the bottom, someone had written: “Charge to Ashcroft executive account.”
I had never authorized such an account.
“Who wrote this?”
“Denise Harper, my supervisor.”
I asked Rosa whether she had told anyone.
“She said I should forget it.”
I wrote Denise's name down.
Rosa looked nervous. “Will I lose my job?”
“No. You will not be punished for telling the truth. If anyone retaliates against you, come directly to me.”
After she left, Evelyn sent a preliminary analysis. Three companies had received repeated payments: Bellmont Events, Sterling Floral Group, and Northline Security. Two were new businesses. One had an incomplete tax profile.
The contact person for all three was Blythe Cross.
I stared at the screen.
Blythe had not simply asked for favors. She had introduced the vendors receiving the hotel's money.
I called Evelyn. The payment instructions had come from an email address designed to look internal, but it was not our domain.
“Who approved the payments?”
“Some were approved under Conrad's credentials. Others were approved under Denise's.”
“Trace the logins. Freeze pending payments. Notify the bank that these accounts are under review.”
Then I called Denise.
“Please come to my office tomorrow morning. I'd like to discuss several guest-service records.”
“Is something wrong?” she asked.
“I'd like to hear your explanation.”
After the call, I placed the coat beside my mother's photograph. The champagne stain had spread along the seam. I could still smell Blythe's perfume.
May you like
My mother had repaired clothes for people who could not afford new ones. She taught me that small stitches held a garment together. She also taught me not to ignore a loose thread.
The next morning, I intended to follow it.
