Chapter 4 - The Woman Everyone Called a Thief
Joanne's condition worsened that evening.
Her doctors said stress could trigger another medical crisis.
Mason stayed in the hospital until midnight.
Lily sat beside her grandmother in the waiting room.
Mason brought dinner.
Lily smiled weakly.
“You don't have to keep doing that.”
“Yes, I do.”
“Why?”
“Because you're family now.”
She stared at him.
“What?”
Mason realized how strange that sounded.
“I mean… you're not alone.”
Lily smiled for the first time in days.
“Thank you.”
At the hotel, Richard Hale called an emergency management meeting.
Mason was not invited.
That was the point.
He watched through security footage as department heads entered the conference room.
Then Richard spoke.
Mason listened through a recording device.
“He's going too far,” Richard said.
Someone asked, “What are we going to do?”
Richard answered.
“We stick to the story.”
Another voice said, “What story?”
“Joanne stole.”
Mason closed his eyes.
Even after being caught, they were still willing to destroy her.
Then came a voice Mason recognized.
Daniel Cross.
“The owner doesn't have evidence of the entire structure.”
Richard replied.
“He has invoices.”
“Then explain them.”
“We can.”
“And if he brings in federal investigators?”
Silence.
Daniel continued.
“Then we lose everything.”
Mason looked at Andrea.
“Get the investigators involved.”
Andrea nodded.
But before they could act, the hotel suffered a major systems failure.
The accounting server went offline.
Then security cameras.
Then the reservation system.
The hotel manager rushed into Mason's office.
“Cyberattack.”
Mason stared.
“Convenient.”
Very convenient.
Someone was trying to destroy evidence.
Mason ordered the servers isolated.
But one machine had already been wiped.
Luckily, Andrea had created backups.
The next morning, Mason received an unexpected visitor.
A woman in her late forties entered his office.
“My name is Teresa Lane.”
Mason stared.
“Should I know you?”
“You should.”
She placed a folder on his desk.
“I was the hotel's night auditor four years ago.”
“What happened?”
“I quit.”
“Why?”
She looked toward the door.
“Because I knew something was wrong.”
Mason opened the folder.
There were copies of payment records.
Teresa pointed to several transactions.
“Every Friday at 11:45 p.m., cash withdrawals.”
Mason frowned.
“Who authorized them?”
“Richard.”
“How do you know?”
“I saw him.”
“Why didn't you report it?”
Teresa smiled sadly.
“Because Joanne did.”
Mason looked up.
Teresa's eyes filled with tears.
“She tried to tell me not to get involved. She said she thought someone was watching her.”
“Who?”
“I don't know.”
“Did you see anyone?”
“Yes.”
“Who?”
Teresa took a deep breath.
“Rebecca.”
Mason went still.
“She used to come back to the hotel after midnight.”
“What did she do?”
“Meet Richard.”
“How often?”
“Almost every week.”
Mason felt a deep sense of betrayal.
Rebecca had been the person who scheduled his meetings.
The person who handled his messages.
The person who controlled his calendar.
The person who had stood between him and Joanne.
Teresa handed him another document.
“There's more.”
It was a copy of a hotel purchase order.
But at the bottom was a handwritten note.
“Transfer approved by M.V.”
Mason recognized the initials.
But not the handwriting.
He showed it to Teresa.
“She told people you had personally authorized everything.”
“She forged my initials.”
Teresa nodded.
“That's why nobody questioned it.”
Mason realized how effective the scheme had been.
They hadn't needed to impersonate him constantly.
They only needed to make people believe he was too busy to care.
Then whenever somebody complained, they claimed Mason had already approved it.
Joanne had refused to accept that explanation.
That made her dangerous.
Mason returned to the hospital.
Joanne was awake.
He showed her the documents.
She nodded.
“I knew.”
“How?”
“She told me…”
“Who?”
“Rebecca.”
Mason sat down.
“What did Rebecca tell you?”
“She said… you were angry.”
“At me?”
Joanne nodded.
“She said you knew.”
Mason's expression softened.
“I didn't.”
“I know now.”
Joanne looked at him.
“I thought you hated me.”
The sentence hit him harder than any accusation.
“I never met you.”
“You did.”
Mason frowned.
“When?”
“You came to the kitchen once.”
He remembered.
Three years ago.
He had visited the kitchen during a charity event.
A young cook had approached him.
She had asked about food costs.
He remembered being interrupted by Rebecca.
She had told him there was an urgent call.
He had walked away.
That cook had been Joanne.
Mason stared at the floor.
He had been inches away from hearing the truth.
For years.
And every time the truth approached, someone had moved him away from it.
He stood.
“I owe you something.”
Joanne looked confused.
“What?”
“Your name.”
“My name?”
“I need everyone to know you weren't a thief.”
Tears slid down her cheeks.
“You can't change what happened.”
“I can't.”
He gently squeezed her hand.
“But I can change what happens next.”
Three days later, Mason announced an internal investigation.
He also issued a public statement.
The Grand Crest was reviewing historical purchasing irregularities.
No employee would be blamed without evidence.
Former employees were invited to provide information anonymously.
The statement spread online.
And then something unexpected happened.
People began sending stories.
Former employees.
Former suppliers.
Former accountants.
All had similar complaints.
Everyone had been afraid.
A receptionist wrote:
“They told me Mason Vance approved the payments.”
A former waiter wrote:
“Richard told me Mason personally wanted Joanne gone.”
A supplier wrote:
“Rebecca asked us to alter invoices.”
The evidence multiplied.
But with it came danger.
That night, as Lily and her grandmother slept, somebody entered their apartment building.
They did not steal anything.
They left a note under the door.
STOP DIGGING.
Lily found it in the morning.
Mason read it.
His face became ice.
He immediately moved Elena and Lily to a secure guest suite at the Grand Crest.
Lily looked frightened.
“Did they do this because of my mom?”
Mason crouched beside her.
“They did it because they are scared.”
“Of what?”
“The truth.”
That evening, Mason made a decision.
He would not merely expose the fraud.
He would make sure nobody could bury the truth again.
May you like
And to do that, he needed the one person who might know everything.
Rebecca Shaw.
