Chapter 4 - ROOM 1704
Brandon called at 1:03.
Rachel answered this time.
His voice was softer.
Dangerously softer.
“Can we talk like adults?”
“We’ve been adults for fourteen years.”
“Rachel.”
“What?”
“I messed up.”
Not we.
I.
Interesting.
“What did you do?”
“I let Mom get in my head.”
Rachel waited.
“She kept saying you controlled everything.”
“Did she make you forge my signature?”
“I didn’t forge anything.”
“Did Paige?”
“No.”
“Richard Vale?”
Silence.
Rachel wrote the time down.
1:04:18 p.m.
“Who is Richard?” Brandon asked.
It was almost convincing.
“Goodbye, Brandon.”
“Wait.”
His voice broke.
Real fear now.
“Please.”
Rachel stopped.
“I need to tell you something, but not over the phone.”
“You’re in Florida.”
“I can come home.”
“How?”
Silence.
His cards were dead.
“Rachel…”
“Ask your mother.”
“She doesn’t have money.”
That surprised her.
Brenda owned a house in Roseville, drove a new Lexus, wore jewelry expensive enough to finance a semester at Stanford, and spent twenty years telling everyone she had “family investments.”
“What do you mean she doesn’t have money?”
“I mean she’s freaking out.”
“Why?”
“She went upstairs with Paige after the hotel refused our cards. They’ve been arguing for an hour.”
“What about?”
“I don’t know.”
Rachel heard a door close.
Then Brandon whispered:
“Something is wrong.”
“Yes, Brandon. Several things.”
“No. With Mom.”
Rachel said nothing.
“She keeps asking Paige where Richard is.”
That got Rachel’s attention.
“Where are you?”
“Lobby.”
“What room?”
“We lost the suite.”
“Brandon.”
He lowered his voice.
“Mom has another room.”
“With what card?”
“I don’t know.”
“Room number?”
“Seventeen-oh-four.”
Rachel wrote it down.
“Don’t go into that room.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m asking you not to.”
He gave a bitter laugh.
“That never stopped you from doing anything.”
“No. But self-preservation might.”
The line went quiet.
“Rachel, what did you find?”
She considered lying.
Instead:
“Enough to know Miami wasn’t a vacation.”
Brandon stopped breathing.
“So you saw the messages.”
There it was.
“I saw many things.”
“I didn’t know what they were really planning.”
“You copied my card.”
“Mom told me you’d cancel everything if you found out about the trip.”
“You photographed my banking screen.”
“I was scared.”
“You participated in documents involving our children’s accounts.”
“I never signed those!”
Rachel paused.
That sounded immediate.
Specific.
Possibly true.
“Who did?”
“I don’t know.”
A woman shouted in the background.
Paige.
“Brandon!”
His breathing changed.
“What?”
Paige sounded hysterical.
“Mom’s gone.”
“What do you mean gone?”
“She left.”
“With Richard?”
“I don’t know!”
Rachel stood.
“Brandon, stay in the lobby.”
But he was already moving.
“I’m going upstairs.”
“No.”
“Her stuff is still here.”
“Do not enter Room 1704.”
The elevator chimed through the phone.
“Why?”
“Because if Richard Vale is involved, that room may contain evidence.”
Or someone waiting to remove it.
Brandon stepped into the elevator.
Rachel heard him press the button.
“You finally think I can help?”
“No.”
“Then why are you warning me?”
“Because you’re still the father of my children.”
For once, he had no answer.
The elevator climbed.
Floor fourteen.
Fifteen.
Sixteen.
Then seventeen.
The doors opened.
Rachel heard footsteps.
“Brandon?”
Nothing.
“Brandon?”
He whispered:
“The door is open.”
“Do not go inside.”
He ignored her.
Of course he did.
The line filled with soft movement.
Then Brandon stopped.
“Oh my God.”
“What?”
No answer.
“What do you see?”
His voice came out thin.
“Paige.”
Rachel frowned.
“Paige is downstairs.”
“No.”
A pause.
“She isn’t.”
Rachel’s stomach dropped.
On the other end, Brandon began breathing faster.
“She’s in the room.”
“What is she doing?”
Nothing.
Then:
“Rachel…”
May you like
His voice cracked.
“There’s blood everywhere.”
