Naomi looked up. “You think she’s in danger?”
“I think people who panic are usually afraid of someone above them.”
Lupita whispered, “Karla wasn’t afraid.”
“No,” Ethan said. “Karla was comfortable.”
The distinction mattered.
At 8:32 p.m., Aaron received another update.
Patricia was not home.
Her car was in the apartment lot.
Her phone was inside her kitchen.
Her back door was unlocked.
And on her counter sat a Grand Regent key envelope with one sentence written across the front in black marker.
ASK THE WIDOWER WHAT SARAH KNEW.
Ethan felt the room tilt.
Not visibly.
No one else would have noticed.
But Lupita did.
“Ethan?”
He stared at the words on the screen.
Sarah.
His wife’s name had not appeared in any audit file.
Not in Robert’s emails.
Not in the hotel complaints.
Not anywhere near this mess.
She had been dead three years.
Cancer.
