Chapter 3 - THE MISSING PURSEBy the time I returned to the hotel, two security officers were standing outside Patricia’s room.
Daniel was waiting in the hallway.
He looked pale.
“What happened?”
I asked.
He approached quickly.
“Where were you?”
“Dinner.”
“You ignored my calls.”
“Yes.”
“Mom’s purse is gone.”
“So you said.”
Inside the room, Patricia was crying.
Brooke sat beside her.
Robert paced near the balcony.
Madison stood against the wall looking uncomfortable.
A hotel security manager introduced himself as Mr. Alvarez.
“We’re trying to establish when Mrs. Hayes last saw the handbag.”
Patricia pointed at me.
“She had access.”
I stared at her.
“To your room?”
“The front desk gave Daniel an extra key, and you were with him.”
Daniel jumped in.
“Mom, Emily never took it.”
“You don’t know that.”
I almost laughed.
Fourteen years with Daniel.
Nine years married.
Two children.
And his mother could accuse me of theft within twenty-four hours of starting a vacation she had hijacked.
“What was in the purse?” I asked.
Patricia sniffed.
“My wallet. Jewelry. Cash.”
“How much cash?”
“Nearly two thousand dollars.”
Robert turned.
“Two thousand?”
Apparently even her husband didn’t know.
Patricia’s eyes flicked toward him.
“For emergencies.”
Mr. Alvarez remained professional.
“Do you know the approximate value of the jewelry?”
“Around fifteen thousand.”
Daniel stared at her.
“You brought fifteen thousand dollars in jewelry?”
“I wanted options.”
Of course she did.
Security asked when she last saw the purse.
Patricia claimed she left it on the dresser before dinner.
The room had shown no signs of forced entry.
Housekeeping had not entered after 3 p.m.
Then Patricia dropped her accusation.
“Emily was angry.”
I stared at her.
“What?”
“You were angry about the trip.”
“And therefore I stole your purse?”
“I’m saying perhaps you wanted to teach us a lesson.”
Brooke murmured, “Mom…”
But Patricia continued.
“You changed the reservation. You refused dinner. You’ve been hostile all day.”
Daniel stepped between us.
“That’s enough.”
For one hopeful second, I thought he had finally chosen the correct side.
Then he looked at me.
“Can we just check your bags so we can clear this up?”
Something inside me went completely still.
“My bags.”
He lowered his voice.
“Emily, I know you didn’t take it.”
“Then why should anybody search my belongings?”
“So this ends.”
“No.”
Patricia immediately crossed her arms.
“Interesting.”
I turned toward Mr. Alvarez.
“Does hotel security have any reason to believe I entered this room?”
“No, ma’am.”
“Then nobody searches my things.”
Daniel whispered, “Don’t make it worse.”
I looked at him.
“You just asked your wife to prove she didn’t rob your mother.”
“I’m trying to resolve this.”
“No. You’re trying to make me absorb another humiliation because confronting her is uncomfortable.”
Patricia stood.
“How dare you talk about me like I’m not here.”
“I’m very aware you’re here.”
Noah appeared in the doorway behind me.
“Mom?”
Everyone went silent.
He had followed our babysitter from my room after waking.
I immediately softened.
“Hey, sweetheart.”
He looked around.
“Why is Grandma crying?”
Patricia answered before I could.
“Grandma lost something very valuable.”
Noah frowned.
“Your brown bag?”
Every adult turned toward him.
Patricia froze.
“What did you say?”
“The brown bag.”
“When did you see it?”
Noah shrugged.
“With Aunt Brooke.”
Brooke’s face drained of color.
Patricia slowly turned.
“What?”
Noah pointed.
“She had it downstairs.”
Brooke laughed nervously.
“No, honey. That was my purse.”
“No.”
Noah shook his head.
“Grandma’s has the gold bee.”
Patricia’s purse had a gold bee clasp.
Nobody spoke.
Brooke stood.
“That’s ridiculous.”
Mr. Alvarez became very attentive.
“Ms. Dalton, did you handle the missing handbag tonight?”
“No.”
“You’re sure?”
“Yes.”
Noah tugged my shirt.
“She gave it to the man.”
Brooke spun around.
“What man?”
Noah looked frightened now.
I crouched.
“You’re not in trouble. Tell me what you saw.”
He thought carefully.
“When we came back from swimming, Aunt Brooke was by the elevators. She had Grandma’s bag. A man in a black jacket came, and she gave him something.”
Brooke laughed again.
“That could have been anything.”
Mr. Alvarez asked, “What time was this?”
“Maybe five?”
I answered.
“We came upstairs around 5:15.”
He nodded.
“Our lobby cameras should cover the elevator bank.”
Brooke’s face changed.
Just slightly.
But I saw it.
So did Madison.
“Brooke,” she whispered.
“What did you do?”
“Nothing.”
Mr. Alvarez excused himself to review footage.
The next fifteen minutes were unbearable.
Patricia stopped accusing me.
She didn’t apologize either.
Brooke paced.
Her husband, Chris, suddenly became very interested in his phone.
Finally Mr. Alvarez returned with another employee.
“Mrs. Hayes, we located video showing Ms. Dalton carrying what appears to be your handbag at 5:23 p.m.”
Patricia stared at her daughter.
Brooke went white.
The security manager continued.
“The footage also shows her meeting a man near the south elevator and handing him an envelope.”
“An envelope?” Patricia repeated.
“It does not show her transferring the handbag.”
Brooke exhaled.
“Exactly.”
“But approximately six minutes later, footage shows Ms. Dalton entering the women’s restroom carrying the handbag and leaving without it.”
Silence.
Robert sat down.
Chris whispered, “Brooke.”
She started crying.
Not delicate tears.
Not embarrassment.
Panic.
“I was going to put it back.”
Patricia’s voice became terrifyingly quiet.
“Where is my purse?”
“In the restroom ceiling.”
Nobody moved.
Apparently Brooke had hidden it above a removable ceiling panel.
Security recovered it.
The wallet was inside.
The jewelry remained.
But the $2,000 cash was missing.
Patricia stared at her daughter.
“You stole from me.”
“I borrowed it.”
“You hid my purse!”
“I needed the money.”
“For what?”
Brooke looked at Chris.
He turned away.
Then she whispered, “Debt.”
Robert’s face hardened.
“What debt?”
Brooke began shaking.
“Credit cards.”
“How much?”
No answer.
Chris finally spoke.
“Forty-seven thousand.”
Patricia sat heavily on the bed.
Madison covered her mouth.
Daniel whispered a curse.
Forty-seven thousand dollars.
But that wasn’t the worst part.
Because Brooke had not merely taken Patricia’s cash.
The mysterious man by the elevator was a private lender she owed money.
And when Patricia demanded to know how the debt had gotten so large, Brooke said something that changed the entire trip.
“I thought Daniel was helping us.”
I turned toward my husband.
Daniel went completely still.
“What does that mean?” I asked.
Brooke looked at him.
“You said you’d cover the minimums until Chris’s commission came through.”
I stared at Daniel.
“When did you say that?”
“Emily—”
“How much money have you given them?”
Nobody answered.
“Daniel.”
He finally whispered:
“Twelve thousand.”
My knees almost weakened.
The vacation tickets.
Brooke’s debt.
Money taken from our household while I was washing dishes by hand because my husband said we needed to save.
I thought of Sophie’s college account.
Our emergency fund.
The roof repair we had delayed.
“From where?”
Daniel said nothing.
I already knew.
“Our savings?”
His silence confirmed it.
Something in my expression made him step toward me.
“Emily, I can explain.”
“Tomorrow.”
“What?”
“You can explain tomorrow.”
I picked up Sophie’s diaper bag.
“Tonight I don’t want to hear another word from you.”
He reached for my arm.
I moved away.
“Don’t.”
This time, he listened.
Back in my room, I put both children to bed.
Then I opened our banking app.
For the next hour I examined six months of transactions.
Transfers.
ATM withdrawals.
Credit-card payments.
Numbers that had looked ordinary individually.
Together, they formed a pattern.
Daniel hadn’t given his family twelve thousand dollars.
He had given them far more.
By midnight, I had found $28,640 in unexplained transfers.
And one payment frightened me more than all the others.
$9,500.
Sent three weeks earlier.
To an account labeled:
HAYES FAMILY HOLDINGS.
I had never heard of Hayes Family Holdings.
May you like
But my husband was listed as an authorized manager.
And so was his mother.
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