"You are being paid to protect this company," Preston said. "Don't lecture me about public attention. Make this disappear." Greer looked toward the framed photograph of Charles and remembered the night he had signed papers with a shaking hand while Altha Monroe lay in a hospital bed. The past had been quiet for so long that he had mistaken silence for burial.
After Greer left, Preston called a private security contractor, Blackstone Security Services. He described Altha as a possible agitator, asked for surveillance of her movements, and requested information about everyone she had contacted since appearing at the hotel. He spoke as though he were protecting corporate property rather than monitoring an elderly woman who had paid for a reservation. The contractor asked whether the work should include direct contact.
"Not unless necessary," Preston said at first. Then he remembered Miriam recognizing the founder and imagined old employees gathering to corroborate her claim. "I don't want her anywhere near the sale. Whatever it takes to keep the transaction clean, understand?" He ended the call before the contractor could ask him to define the limits.
That afternoon, an unfamiliar sedan passed Altha's apartment twice. A man stood across the street pretending to examine an advertisement on his phone while watching the entrance. Elias, arriving with groceries and a new lock for a loose window, noticed the vehicle but said nothing until he was inside. His grandmother listened to his observations without surprise and pulled an old notebook from a drawer.
"Their father used to do the same thing," she said. "Cars at the corner. Men asking the neighbors whether I was planning a trip. It made me feel watched even after they stopped coming." Elias studied her face.
"Grandmama, none of this is normal. We need a lawyer who understands more than hotel contracts."
Altha reached into her address book and found the name of Celeste Harrow. Celeste had once worked on federal housing investigations before becoming an attorney specializing in public-interest enforcement and financial misconduct. She had helped a church recover diverted housing grants and was known for treating witnesses with the same seriousness as executives. Altha had met her at a community conference years earlier and had kept her number without ever using it for a personal case.
Elias called Celeste's office and described the immediate threat to four hundred thirty-seven residents. Celeste listened closely, then asked them to bring the papers the following morning. She explained that a trust ownership dispute, even one involving serious fraud allegations, could not be fixed with a dramatic accusation or a photograph. But a pending sale threatening restricted housing assets created an urgent reason to seek a court order preserving the status quo while the evidence was examined.