Quiet.
But not quiet enough.
Margaret heard.
So did Sam, who had returned carrying a folded towel.
His face tightened.
Margaret placed her card on the desk.
Derek did not pick it up.
Instead, he signaled toward two security officers near the entrance.
“Security.”
Sam stepped forward.
“Mr. Colton—”
“Not now, Sam.”
The officers approached.
Derek pointed toward Margaret's handbag.
“We have concerns about payment and possibly property.”
Margaret stared at him.
“What property?”
“You're carrying a bag large enough to remove hotel items.”
Margaret almost laughed.
Her handbag was an old leather tote.
Nothing more.
One security officer, clearly uncomfortable, asked, “Ma'am, would you mind showing us the contents?”
Margaret could have ended everything instantly.
She could have taken out her phone.
Called Daniel.
Called corporate counsel.
Called the head of security who reported indirectly to her company.
Instead, she opened the bag.
“Certainly.”
The contents were ordinary.
Wallet.
Reading glasses.
Medication.
Tissues.
Small notebook.
Pen.
Phone.
A paperback novel.
A wrapped mint.