She lifted her phone, held it sideways, and began recording Irene.
“For evidence,” she said sweetly.
“Smile for the camera, sweetheart.”
“Your little scam is going in the training manual.”
She zoomed in on Irene’s wheelchair.
“And look at this equipment, you guys. Duct tape on the armrest, mud on the spokes.”
“If you’re going to pretend you belong at Meridian, at least rent better props.”
Candace aimed the phone toward herself again.
“This is what happens when you’re nice in this city. You hold the line for a company, and this is the thanks.”
“People will fake anything now. Disabilities. Meetings. Anything.”
A few people had their own phones out by then, filming Candace as she filmed Irene.
The internet was being assembled frame by frame, and nobody in the lobby knew it yet.
Dennis shifted his weight.
Something about the situation had begun to itch.
He had seen real con artists.
They talked fast.
They became loud.
They threatened lawsuits within the first thirty seconds.
This woman merely collected her papers in silence.
And her silence was heavier than shouting.
His radio crackled on his shoulder.
“Front desk, status?”
Dennis keyed the radio without taking his eyes off the scene.
“Handling it.”
He wished he believed that.
“Candace,” he said quietly. “Maybe I just walk her out. No drama. Or maybe we make the call upstairs. It’s one call.”
Candace lowered her phone and stared at him.
“One call,” she repeated.
“Dennis, sweetie, do you know what happens if we ring the chairman’s office during his board meeting over this?”
“That’s both our jobs.”
She looked toward Irene.
“Is she worth your pension?”
It was a lie wearing a seatbelt.
Safe.
Sensible.
Almost impossible to argue with.
Dennis’s unease lost to his mortgage.
He sighed and stepped toward Irene’s wheelchair.
“Ma’am, I’m going to need you to leave the building. Please don’t make this harder.”
Irene placed the final page in her folder and closed it.
She looked up at him.
Not Candace.
Him.
“What’s your name?”
“Dennis.”
He hesitated.
“Dennis Holloway, ma’am.”
“Dennis Holloway. I want you to remember that you asked nicely.”
She held his gaze.
“That’s going to matter.”
Behind the desk, Candace barked a laugh.
“Is she threatening you now? Unbelievable. This is exactly what I’m talking about.”
She came around the counter with her phone still in her hand and planted herself in front of Irene.
She dialed 911 and turned the screen toward Irene, thumb hovering above the call button.
“Last chance, sweetheart.”
“Roll out on your own, or roll out with a police escort.”
“Criminal trespassing.”
“Your choice.”
“I look great in court.”
The silver-haired woman near the sofas finally spoke.
“For heaven’s sake, she isn’t bothering anyone.”
Candace ignored her.
Wealth got smiles at this desk.