Chapter 8 - The Ledger That Vanished.
Locker nineteen was empty.
Claire stared into the metal compartment as if the ledger might appear if she refused to blink.
Tessa stood behind her in disbelief.
"It was here."
Marcus examined the lock.
"No damage."
Tessa held up the brass key.
"There were only two keys."
"Who had the other?"
Her answer came reluctantly.
"The venue manager."
Victor looked at Marcus.
"Bring him."
The manager, a nervous man named Philip Dane, arrived five minutes later with sweat soaking the collar of his dress shirt.
"Mr. Hale, I can explain the system failure."
"I don't care about the system failure."
Victor pointed at the locker.
"Open it with your key."
Philip's hand went to his pocket.
Then his other pocket.
His face emptied.
"It's gone."
Claire laughed without humor.
"Of course it is."
Philip shook his head rapidly.
"I haven't touched that key all night."
Marcus stepped closer.
"Who had access to your office?"
"Staff."
"Names."
"Half the venue."
Victor grabbed Philip's shoulder and turned him toward the ballroom.
"Then you are going to start with the half that Celeste paid."
Philip went pale.
"I don't know what you're talking about."
Tessa spoke from behind Claire.
"He does."
Philip looked at her.
The fear in his face became guilt.
"Tessa."
"Tell them."
"I can't."
"She already locked you in this with the rest of us."
Philip's lips trembled.
"The contract was just supposed to be for privacy."
Victor's voice became dangerously soft.
"What contract?"
Philip swallowed.
"Celeste paid for exclusive control of the surveillance system from six until midnight."
Claire stared at him.
"You sold her the cameras?"
"She said celebrities were coming."
"You turned them off."
"I rerouted the feed."
"To where?"
Philip looked down.
"A private server."
Marcus stepped forward.
"Location."
"Production office upstairs."
They ran.
The ballroom remained sealed as Victor, Claire, Marcus, Tessa, Adrian, and Philip climbed the service stairs.
Celeste was kept downstairs with two Hale security officers.
Victor did not trust venue security anymore.
At the production office, Marcus forced the door.
The room smelled of overheated electronics.
Three monitors were still running.
One displayed the ballroom.
One displayed the bridal suite.
The third showed a progress bar at ninety-three percent.
DELETE ARCHIVE.
Marcus lunged for the server rack.
"Pull power!"
Philip yanked a cable.
The monitors went dark at ninety-six percent.
Everyone stood still.
Marcus removed the drive.
"We may have saved part of it."
Claire looked at the black screen.
"Part of what?"
Philip sat down heavily.
"Everything."
He rubbed his face.
"She wasn't turning cameras off."
"She was redirecting them," Claire said.
Philip nodded.
"Every corridor, every room, every microphone."
Adrian stepped toward the bridal-suite monitor.
"Then the attack was recorded."
"Maybe."
Claire looked at Victor.
For the first time all evening, hope appeared.
Then Marcus opened the server housing.
His expression changed.
"What?" Victor asked.
Marcus held up an empty drive cradle.
"This is only the mirror drive."
"Meaning?"
"The primary archive is gone."
Footsteps sounded in the stairwell.
Marcus drew himself between Victor and the door.
The handle turned.
Samuel Price walked in.
Victor's missing lawyer looked at the open server rack.
May you like
Then he looked at the transfer in Victor's hand.
"You weren't supposed to find that until tomorrow."
