Chapter 2 - Noah Had Been Given The Watch Before I Changed
The hotel put us in a concierge office with glass walls.
Mason objected to Noah coming with me.
I objected louder.
He called his supervisor.
I called no one.
I had spent most of my adult life allowing Bennett-family problems to become meetings before I understood what the problem was.
I wasn't doing that yet.
Noah sat in a leather chair with his backpack between his shoes.
I returned the pencils and paperback he'd dropped.
He counted everything.
Twice.
“You missing anything?”
“No.”
“Phone?”
“My mom has it.”
“Where's your mom?”
“Ballroom kitchen.”
That surprised me.
“She works here?”
“Pastry.”
Of course.
A nine-year-old moving through a luxury hotel suddenly made more sense.
“Does she know you're running errands for strange men?”
Noah looked offended.
“He’s not strange.”
“You said you don't know what to call him.”
“He’s my grandpa.”
I stared.
“Ray Carter is your grandfather.”
He nodded.
Mason, standing by the door, looked away.
I caught it.
“You didn't think that detail was useful?”
“I was waiting for you to stop accusing him of something.”
“I'm not accusing him yet.”
“You are with your face.”
Noah had apparently inherited confidence from somewhere.
“Fair.”
I sat opposite him.
“Start at one-thirty.”
He had been eating lunch with his grandfather in the hotel employee café.
Ray Carter had worked at the Bellweather long before Noah was born.
He still came in sometimes because, according to Noah, “everybody old knows everybody else old.”
Noah said Ray had received a phone call.
Then disappeared for fifteen minutes.
When he returned, he had the pocket watch.
“Had you seen it before?”
“No.”
“What did he tell you?”
“That he needed me to do something stupid.”
I looked at Mason.
Mason looked irritated.
“What stupid thing?”
“Take the watch upstairs if he couldn't.”
“Why couldn't he?”
Noah glanced at Mason.
“He said security might stop him.”
I turned.
“Why would security stop an elderly former employee?”
Mason folded his arms.
“Ray Carter was asked to leave the premises this afternoon.”
“When?”
“About two.”
“Why?”
“He entered a restricted event-service corridor.”
“What was he doing?”
“He refused to say.”
Noah said:
“He was looking for Mrs. Bennett.”
I looked at him.
“My mother.”
“Yes.”
My pulse changed.
Mason continued:
“He approached Mrs. Bennett near event staging. She asked us to remove him.”
“Did he threaten her?”
“No.”
“Touch her?”
“No.”
“Raise his voice?”
Mason hesitated.
“No.”
“So why remove him?”
“She requested it.”
I stared at him.
“That is not how hotel security works.”
Mason’s jaw tightened.
“Vivian Bennett is hosting a private event.”
My mother's name in his mouth made the relationship clearer.
Bellweather knew the Bennetts.
The Bennetts knew Bellweather.
Our family had held birthdays, engagements, charity dinners and funerals under those chandeliers for twenty-five years.
Rules became flexible around money if everyone called flexibility service.
I looked back at Noah.
“What did your grandfather tell you before he left?”
Noah thought.
“He said, ‘If I can't get back inside, find Claire.’”
“Did he say Bennett?”
“No.”
“How did you know what I looked like?”
“He showed me a picture.”
“What picture?”
Noah reached into a side pocket.
A folded printout.
Not surveillance.
The event's public program.
My photograph beside the words:
CLAIRE BENNETT
Family Remarks — 5:15 PM.
In the picture I wore a black blazer.
No help there.
“What did he say about the white dress?”
Noah answered:
“He said you'd be wearing it by four-thirty.”
Mason pushed away from the wall.
“Exact words?”
Noah frowned.
“Pretty much.”
I looked at the wall clock.
4:31.
I hated how precise that was.
“Did he tell you why?”
“No.”
“Did he know I was wearing blue?”
“He said you probably would be.”
Mason looked at me.
That bothered him even more.
I asked:
“What else?”
Noah thought.
“If you didn't recognize the watch, I was supposed to give it to Officer Reed.”
Mason's head snapped toward him.
“What?”
Noah nodded.
“But Grandpa said if you did recognize it, I shouldn't.”
I turned slowly.
Mason’s face had lost color.
“Why would he tell Noah to give it to you?”
“I don't know.”
“You've already admitted you recognize it.”
“Yes.”
“From what?”
He looked through the glass wall.
Guests moved past outside carrying champagne.
Then he said:
“Seventeen years ago I was the officer who wrote the incident report.”
My grip tightened around the watch.
“What report?”
Mason looked at me.
“The report that said your sister left this hotel with it.”
The room went quiet.
Noah looked between us.
I stared at the cracked blue face.
“That’s impossible.”
Mason didn't answer.
I continued.
“If Anna left with this, how is it here?”
His jaw tightened.
“That is exactly what I would like Ray Carter to explain.”
Noah said quietly:
“He said you’d say that too.”
I looked at him.
“What else did your grandfather predict?”
Noah reached into the front pocket of his backpack.
He pulled out a small white hotel envelope.
My name was written across it.
CLAIRE.
No last name.
No room number.
He held it out.
“I'm allowed to give you this now.”
I took it.
Inside was one sentence.
Before you ask why I kept the watch, ask Mason who marked it RETURNED TO FAMILY.
I looked up.
May you like
Mason had already read my face.
And for the first time since this began, he looked afraid of me asking the right question.
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