Chapter 3 - The Woman in Room 814Naomi didn’t confront Graham about the photograph.
Not yet.
For the first time that day, she stopped reacting.
She started thinking.
Years earlier, Eric used to tease her about it.
“You get scary when you go quiet.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means somebody’s about to lose an argument.”
Naomi almost heard his voice now.
She locked her phone and slipped it into her dress pocket.
Graham watched her carefully.
“What did you get?”
“Nothing.”
“You just looked at your phone.”
“My wedding is canceled. People are texting.”
He knew she was lying.
She could see it.
But Naomi had finally learned something important about Graham.
He needed control.
So she stopped giving him information.
“I’m taking Maisie home,” she said.
“You’re not driving.”
Naomi stared at him.
“Excuse me?”
“You’re emotional.”
“My daughter and I are leaving.”
“Our daughter.”
The words made Naomi’s stomach turn.
“She is not your daughter.”
Graham’s face changed.
Only slightly.
But it changed.
Naomi walked away.
Her phone vibrated again before she reached the ballroom doors.
Room 814. Come alone if you want the truth.
Rachel saw the message over Naomi’s shoulder.
“Absolutely not.”
“It might be whoever sent the footage.”
“It might be Graham’s friend trying to trap you.”
Naomi looked toward the ballroom.
Graham was speaking urgently to his father.
Cynthia was staring at Naomi.
“Then you stay nearby.”
“Naomi—”
“Rachel, I need to know.”
Rachel knew that tone.
“Five minutes. If you don’t text me, I’m calling security.”
They took separate elevators.
Rachel stopped on seven.
Naomi continued to eight.
Room 814 was at the end of a quiet corridor.
She knocked.
Nothing.
She knocked again.
The door opened two inches.
A woman looked out.
She appeared to be in her early forties.
Dark hair.
No makeup.
Tired eyes.
“Naomi?”
“Yes.”
The woman opened the door.
“My name is Claire Bennett.”
Naomi didn’t recognize it.
“Should I?”
Claire gave a sad smile.
“No. Graham made sure of that.”
Naomi remained in the doorway.
“You sent the messages?”
“Yes.”
“The photograph?”
“Yes.”
“How did you get it?”
Claire looked down the hallway.
“Come inside.”
Naomi hesitated.
Then she kept the door open with her foot.
“I’m fine here.”
Claire nodded.
“Fair.”
“Tell me how you knew Eric.”
Claire’s face softened.
“We worked together.”
“At Larkin?”
“Yes.”
“With Graham?”
“Yes.”
“What happened?”
Claire looked at Naomi’s wedding dress.
“I’m sorry I waited until today.”
“Why today?”
“Because I heard about the wedding three weeks ago.”
“You had three weeks.”
“I was scared.”
“Of Graham?”
Claire nodded.
Naomi crossed her arms.
“Start talking.”
Claire took a slow breath.
“Eric discovered Graham had been moving money through fake subcontractor invoices.”
Naomi listened.
“He came to me because I worked in accounting. He needed confirmation.”
“Did you confirm it?”
“Yes.”
“How much?”
“More than Martin told you.”
Naomi’s stomach tightened.
“How much?”
“Just over $1.4 million.”
“Why would Graham steal that much?”
“He wasn’t stealing alone.”
“Who else?”
Claire hesitated.
“Cynthia.”
Naomi stared.
“His mother?”
“Cynthia owned a consulting company that existed mostly on paper. Larkin paid it for services that were never completed.”
Naomi thought of Cynthia’s expensive house.
Her vacations.
The effortless wealth.
“Eric found it.”
“Yes.”
“And Graham knew?”
“Eric confronted him.”
“The night he died.”
Claire nodded.
Naomi looked away.
She suddenly felt twenty-eight again, standing in a hospital room while a police officer explained that her husband had not survived.
“Was Graham responsible for Eric’s crash?”
“I don’t know.”
Naomi turned sharply.
“You said you had the truth.”
“I have facts. I won’t pretend I have proof of murder.”
That word landed heavily.
Murder.
Naomi had avoided thinking it.
Claire continued.
“Security footage showed Graham following Eric out of the building.”
“And taking his briefcase.”
“Yes.”
“After the crash?”
“No.”
Naomi froze.
“What?”
“The footage you saw was before Eric left.”
Claire took out a laptop.
“He and Graham argued in the garage.”
She opened a video.
The footage had no sound.
Eric pointed toward Graham.
Graham stepped closer.
Eric tried to get into his vehicle.
Graham grabbed the briefcase.
Eric fought him for it.
Eventually Eric let go.
Then he pointed at Graham again before getting into his car.
“What happened next?”
Claire clicked forward.
A second camera showed Graham entering a dark SUV.
Thirty seconds later, Eric drove out.
Then Graham followed.
Naomi felt cold.
“Police didn’t see this?”
“The footage disappeared from the company server the next morning.”
“How do you have it?”
“I copied it.”
“Why?”
“Because Eric asked me to.”
Naomi looked at her.
“When?”
“Two days before he died.”
Claire swallowed.
“He was scared.”
Naomi felt tears burn her eyes.
Eric had been scared.
And she hadn’t known.
“He said if anything happened, I needed to keep proof.”
“Why didn’t you go to police?”
“I tried.”
Naomi stared.
Claire opened a drawer.
She removed a printed email.
“I contacted Detective Wilson six days after the crash.”
“And?”
“Someone broke into my apartment that night.”
Naomi’s throat tightened.
“They took my computer.”
“But not the copy?”
“I had another one.”
“Who broke in?”
“I never knew.”
Claire looked directly at her.
“But Graham called me the next morning.”
Naomi’s skin prickled.
“What did he say?”
“He said, ‘Eric made one mistake. Don’t make the same one.’”
Naomi took out her phone.
“Will you tell police?”
Claire looked terrified.
“I will now.”
“Why now?”
Claire’s eyes moved toward Naomi’s wedding dress.
“Because I saw you had a daughter.”
Naomi’s heart stopped.
“What does Maisie have to do with it?”
Claire looked away.
“That’s the other reason I contacted you.”
“What?”
“I knew Graham before Eric.”
Naomi waited.
Claire’s voice dropped.
“I was married to him.”
For several seconds, Naomi didn’t understand the sentence.
“What?”
“Graham and I were married twelve years ago.”
“No.”
Naomi shook her head.
“He told me he’d never been married.”
“He lied.”
Naomi laughed once in disbelief.
“Do you have proof?”
Claire opened a folder.
Marriage certificate.
Divorce decree.
Photographs.
Graham younger, but unmistakable.
Standing beside Claire.
Smiling.
Naomi felt sick.
“Why did you divorce?”
Claire’s eyes filled with tears.
“Because I had a son.”
Naomi stared at her.
Claire continued.
“Evan was five when Graham moved in with us.”
Naomi could barely breathe.
“And?”
“At first Graham was wonderful.”
Of course he was.
“Then he started saying Evan was spoiled.”
Naomi’s fingers went numb.
“He didn’t like when my son wanted to sleep in my room.”
Naomi felt the entire hotel disappear around her.
Claire’s voice trembled.
“He said Evan was manipulating me.”
The same words.
The same complaints.
The same pattern.
“What happened to your son?”
“He’s twenty now. He’s okay.”
Naomi closed her eyes.
“Did Graham hurt him?”
Claire hesitated.
Then nodded.
“Once that I know of.”
Naomi whispered, “That you know of?”
Claire began crying.
“Evan didn’t tell me until years later.”
Naomi immediately thought of Maisie.
All those questions.
All those nights.
All those moments Naomi had misread.
She felt guilt slam into her chest.
Claire grabbed her hand.
“Don’t do that.”
“What?”
“Don’t blame yourself.”
“I brought him into her home.”
“You believed the version he built for you.”
Naomi pulled her hand away gently.
“I still brought him in.”
Her phone rang.
Rachel.
Naomi answered.
“What?”
“Where are you?”
“Eight.”
“Come down now.”
“What happened?”
Rachel’s voice shook.
“Maisie told me something else.”
Naomi’s blood went cold.
“What?”
“She said Graham has a locked room in his house.”
Naomi frowned.
“I know. His office.”
“No.”
Rachel’s breathing quickened.
“She said there’s another room behind the office.”
Naomi froze.
“What room?”
“I don’t know.”
May you like
Then Rachel whispered:
“But Maisie says Graham told her that’s where he keeps things people aren’t supposed to find.”
