By the time I finished, a hotel employee was watching me from the concierge desk with the discreet concern of someone trained to notice guests having terrible nights. She approached with a glass of water. "Sir, is there anything we can do?"
I took the glass. "I need a different room. Somewhere my partner can't access. And I need a receipt showing the time I make the change."
She didn't ask questions. She checked my identification, called the night manager, and arranged a room under a new reservation at the opposite end of the building. The original room had been booked under Tessa's name, so I couldn't demand control over it or her belongings. I simply paid for a room of my own and asked the hotel not to disclose its number.
I was signing the new registration when Nora called. I stepped away from the desk and answered. She sounded out of breath, and behind her I could hear an engine idling.
"I'm across the street," she whispered. "There is a truck. Daniel, the big loading door is open."
"Do you see anybody?"
"Colin Morgan. Tessa's brother. Two movers. And a man in a dark coat who's arguing with him."
"That's probably Adrian."
"Adrian who?"
I closed my eyes. "I'll explain. Is the police car there?"
"Not yet. They've loaded at least one of Dad's cabinets. I can see the protective blankets through the truck door."
My throat tightened. "Stay where you are. Photograph the truck and the license plate if it's safe. Don't go inside."
"Daniel, did Tessa do this?"
I looked through the hotel's glass doors at strangers crossing the midnight pavement, laughing beneath the bright signs of restaurants still open. "I think so."