Elias turned from the window. "Can we prove Preston knew about the diversions?"
"His signature is on every transfer authorization," Celeste replied, holding up a copied document, "including one dated last week. He moved another 100,000 just before announcing the hotel sale."
Miriam shifted in her chair, her hands folded tightly in her lap. "There's something else," she said hesitantly. "Something I should have mentioned before." All three of them looked at her. "The restricted corridor on the third floor," Miriam continued, "The one where I found Mrs. Monroe's photograph. I have the access code. Management gave it to me years ago for maintenance inspections."
Celeste leaned forward. "What's in that corridor?"
"Storage rooms, mostly old furniture, boxes of records Preston's father moved there when they renovated the lobby." Miriam paused. "But there's also a dedication plaque near the photograph from when the original boarding house was expanded in 1978."
Altha's eyes widened. She gripped the arms of her chair, her breathing quickening. "The dedication plaque," she whispered. "Dear Lord, I forgot about the dedication plaque."
"What about it?" Elias asked, moving closer to his grandmother.
Altha's voice grew stronger as the memory returned. "When Preston's father started making threats in 1979, I knew they would try to destroy any proof of my ownership. So, I made copies of the most important documents." She looked up at Celeste. "Including the original founders' agreement, the one that established the Monroe Family Trust and gave us controlling ownership."
"Where did you put the copy?" Celeste asked urgently.
"Inside the wall behind the dedication plaque," Altha said. "I sealed it in a waterproof container before they forced me out. I thought someday the building might need to remember who really built it."
The room fell silent as everyone absorbed this revelation. Celeste stood up, her mind already working through the legal implications. "If that document still exists, it could override everything Preston claims. The original founders' agreement would trump any forged transfer papers."
Elias smiled grimly. "So we just need to get into the hotel and retrieve it."
Before anyone could respond, Celeste's desk phone rang sharply. She answered it with a professional greeting. Then her expression darkened as she listened. "I understand," she said finally. "Thank you for the call." She hung up and turned to face them with grim news written across her features.
"That was Detective Reynolds from Atlanta PD," Celeste said slowly. "Miriam, they're at your apartment right now with an arrest warrant. Preston filed a formal complaint accusing you of stealing confidential hotel documents."
Miriam's face went white. "But I never stole anything. I just showed Mrs. Monroe the photograph."
"Preston doesn't care about the truth," Elias said angrily. "He's eliminating witnesses."
The phone rang again. This time, Celeste's expression grew even darker as she listened. "There's more," she said after hanging up. "Preston's lawyers obtained an emergency restraining order. Altha, you're banned from entering Monroe Crown property. If you go near that hotel, you'll be arrested for trespassing."
The silence stretched between them like a chasm. Their evidence was strong, but Preston was moving faster. Miriam faced arrest. Altha was blocked from the hotel. The duplicate founders' agreement remained hidden behind a plaque they couldn't reach.
Celeste's television flickered on the wall, showing the evening news. Preston Vale appeared on screen, standing in the Monroe Crown lobby beside well-dressed investors. His smile was confident and cruel.
"The Monroe Crown Hotel represents the future of luxury hospitality," he told the reporter. "We won't let a fraud chasing a building she never owned derail our progress. Some people create, others just complain."
The camera zoomed in on Preston's face as he continued his attack on Altha's character, painting her as a confused old woman living in delusions while he built something real.
The morning sun cast pale light through Celeste's office windows, but none of them had seen their beds. Coffee cups lined the conference table like empty soldiers after a long battle. Altha sat perfectly straight in her chair, her hands folded over the brass key she had carried for decades. The key to the original dedication plaque, the key that might unlock everything.
Elias pushed through the office door, his face tight with exhaustion and frustration. He dropped into the chair across from his grandmother and shook his head. "Miriam's still in custody," he reported. "But her lawyer says the theft charge won't stick if we can prove Preston planted those documents in her locker."
Celeste looked up from the legal papers scattered across her desk. Dark circles shadowed her eyes, but her voice remained sharp and focused. "The problem is timing," she said. "Even if we expose Preston's frame-up, Miriam won't be released before noon. And according to my contact at the courthouse, Preston's sale documents are scheduled for final signature at 2:00 this afternoon."
Altha's fingers tightened around the dedication key. "How long would it take the court to review the duplicate founders' agreement?"
"Days," Celeste admitted. "Maybe weeks. The legal system doesn't move at crisis speed, even when justice demands it."
The room fell quiet except for the distant hum of downtown traffic. Elias stared at the hotel blueprint spread between them, his military training automatically cataloging entry points and security weaknesses. "Then we get that document ourselves," he said finally.
Celeste shook her head. "The restraining order makes it impossible. If Altha steps foot on Monroe Crown property, she'll be arrested before she reaches the lobby."
"Not through the front door," Altha said quietly. Both Elias and Celeste turned to look at her. Altha stood up and moved to the blueprints. Her finger traced lines across the paper with the confidence of someone who had once known every corridor and closet. "The original boarding house was built in sections," she explained. "When we expanded in 1978, I insisted on keeping the old service passages intact. Workers needed access to the mechanical systems without disturbing guests." She pointed to a narrow corridor marked on the basement level. "This passage connects the delivery entrance to the old staff quarters. From there, stairs lead up to the restricted corridor where the dedication plaque is mounted."