MARGARET H. WHITFIELD.
The photograph showed the same older woman, only dry.
He either did not know the owner's surname or did not believe there could be any connection.
He handed it to Chloe.
"Run the card."
Chloe did.
A few seconds passed.
The terminal chimed.
APPROVED.
Chloe's mouth tightened.
Derek looked irritated rather than embarrassed.
"Room 214."
Margaret raised an eyebrow.
"For eight thousand dollars?"
"It's what we have."
Margaret knew Room 214.
Standard king.
Courtyard view.
Regular rate that evening: $329.
She nodded.
"Fine."
Derek pointed toward Sam.
"Take her bag."
Margaret kept it.
"No."
Derek frowned.
"Excuse me?"
"I'll carry it."
He shrugged.
"Then don't complain."
Margaret turned toward the elevator.
Behind her, Chloe said:
"I still think somebody should check that card."
Derek answered:
"Security can verify."
Margaret stopped.
She turned.
"Verify what?"
"The source of payment."
"It was approved."
"We've had fraud."
"Are all guests with approved cards searched?"
Derek smiled without warmth.
"Only when circumstances warrant."
"And my circumstances warrant it because?"
He did not answer.
Instead, he called security.
Luis Ortega arrived two minutes later.
He was in his late fifties and clearly unhappy about the assignment.
Derek said:
"We have a suspicious payment."
Luis looked at the terminal.
"Card approved?"
"Yes."
"ID matches?"
Chloe nodded reluctantly.
Luis looked at Margaret.
Then at Derek.
"What exactly do you want me to do?"
"Check her belongings."
Luis's jaw tightened.
"We can't just search a guest's bag."
"Hotel fraud protocol."
"I've never seen a protocol that says that."
Derek stepped closer.
"Do you want me to call your supervisor?"
Margaret intervened.
"It's fine."
Luis looked at her.
"Ma'am, you don't have to—"
"I know."
She placed the handbag on the desk.
"I'd like to see where this goes."
Chloe opened it.
That detail would matter later.
Not Luis.
Chloe.
She pulled out a wallet.
Reading glasses.
Medication.
A folded newspaper.
Two handkerchiefs.
A small notebook.
An old photograph of Margaret and her late husband.
Then Chloe found the envelope of emergency cash Margaret always carried while traveling.
Maybe she stole it.
The thought was visible before Chloe said anything.
Margaret closed the bag herself.
"Finished?"
Derek looked dissatisfied.
"Take her upstairs."
Sam stepped forward.
Margaret picked up the bag.
Derek called after her:
"Don't make a mess."
Margaret stopped.
Slowly.
Then looked back.
She memorized his face.
"Good night, Mr. Cole."
His expression changed slightly when she used his name.
She continued toward the elevator.
Sam followed with nothing to carry.
Inside, the doors closed.
For three floors, neither spoke.
Then Sam said:
"I'm sorry."