Chapter 4: The Man Who Knew Where the Bodies Were
Mason's attorney was a compact, precise woman named Grace Ellison who had handled his business affairs for eleven years and who had, in that time, never once told him to panic.
She arrived at the Grand Crest forty minutes after his call, walked past the front desk without stopping, and found him in the manager's conference room with a laptop, a legal pad covered in numbers, and a cold cup of coffee.
She looked at the legal pad.
Then at him.
"Tell me what you have."
He told her.
She listened without interrupting, which was how he knew it was serious.
When he finished, she picked up the legal pad and studied it.
"Four years," she said.
"At minimum.
Carol thinks it may go back further.
She's still pulling records."
"And the email sent from your account dismissing the employee — do you have a copy?"
He slid Lily's cracked phone across the table.
Grace looked at the screenshot, then set the phone down carefully.
"This is impersonation of an employer for the purpose of wrongful termination," she said.
"That's not just a labor issue.
Combined with the invoice fraud, you're looking at wire fraud, potentially.
Depending on how the supplier payments were routed."
"What do I do right now?"
"Right now, you don't let Brandon Cole or Gerald Marsh leave this property until I've spoken to them separately." She was already writing.
"And you don't confront either of them again without me present.
You've already gotten more than enough out of this morning.
Don't give them a chance to coordinate a story."
"Brandon asked for his attorney."
"Good.
That means he knows what he's done." She looked up.
"Who else had access to your email account?"
"That's what I can't figure out.
I use a separate address for hotel operations.
It's managed through our central admin system.
Brandon wouldn't have had direct access — but Gerald would."
Grace set her pen down.
"Gerald gave Brandon access," she said.
It wasn't a question.
"That's what I think."
"Then Gerald isn't just a witness.
He's a participant."
The door opened.
One of the front desk staff leaned in, apologetic.
"Mr.
Vance, I'm sorry to interrupt.
There's a situation at the front entrance."
Mason followed her out.
Brandon Cole was standing at the main entrance with his coat on and a bag over his shoulder, speaking in a low, controlled voice to the security guard on the door.
"I'm not being detained," Brandon was saying.
"I'm an employee of this hotel and I'm leaving for a personal appointment.
Step aside."
The guard looked at Mason.
Mason walked toward them slowly.
"Brandon."
Brandon turned.
His expression had changed since the conference room.
The tightness was gone, replaced by something smoother and more deliberate.
"I've cooperated fully with your questions this morning," Brandon said.
"I have nothing further to add without legal representation, and I have a right to leave."
"You do," Mason said.
"I'm not stopping you."
Brandon's shoulders dropped slightly.
"But I want you to know," Mason continued, "that I called the supplier this morning.
The artisan dairy company whose name has been on our invoices for four years.
I asked them how long they'd been supplying the Grand Crest."
Brandon said nothing.
"They've never supplied us," Mason said.
"Not once.
They don't have us in their system at all."
The bag strap slipped from Brandon's shoulder.
He caught it.
"That company exists only on paper," Mason said.
"And the account it invoices to is not one of ours."
Brandon's voice, when it came, was quieter than before.
"You can't prove I had anything to do with a supplier account."
"I don't need to prove it this morning." Mason held his gaze.
"Grace Ellison is in the conference room right now.
She's very good at finding out who set up shell companies and when."
Brandon looked at him for a long moment.
Then he said something Mason did not expect.
"Joanne Parker came to me first," Brandon said.
"Before she wrote to you.
She came to me and told me what she'd found.
I told her she was mistaken.
I told her if she pushed it, she'd lose her job." He said it flatly, without apology, as though it were simply a fact.
"She pushed it anyway."
Mason felt something cold move through him.
"So you knew she was right," Mason said.
Brandon picked up his bag strap.
"Call your lawyer, Mason.
I'll be calling mine."
He walked out through the glass doors into the gray morning.
Grace appeared at Mason's shoulder.
"I heard," she said.
"He just admitted he threatened her."
May you like
"In front of a security guard and two front desk staff." Grace was already writing again.
"Yes, he did."
