Chapter 1 - The Second Blackout
The first time the ballroom went dark, three hundred people screamed.
The second time, they screamed at me.
“Step away from that panel!”
Celeste Warren’s voice cut across the Halcyon Grand ballroom as I wrapped my hand around the main disconnect.
I glanced over my shoulder.
Three hundred of Boston’s richest people were staring at me.
Five minutes earlier, they had been drinking champagne beneath six crystal chandeliers while a twelve-piece orchestra played beneath the mezzanine.
Now the orchestra had stopped.
Waiters stood frozen beside silver trays.
Women in couture gowns whispered behind diamond-covered hands.
And suddenly everyone knew my name.
Erin Blake.
Thirty years old.
Commercial electrician.
The woman responsible for ruining Matteo Rinaldi’s annual charity gala.
At least, that was the story Celeste had already decided to tell.
“You serviced this electrical system this afternoon,” she snapped.
“I inspected it.”
“And twenty minutes later the room loses power?”
“Three hours later.”
“You know what I mean.”
“I know exactly what you mean.”
My face felt hot.
I had been working in electrical contracting since I was nineteen. I knew the look people gave me when something went wrong.
When lights stayed on, nobody remembered who wired them.
When they went out, suddenly everyone became an expert.
Celeste pointed toward the ballroom doors.
“Pack your tools and leave.”
I looked at the open electrical cabinet.
“No.”
Her expression changed.
“Excuse me?”
“The blackout didn’t start here.”
“You're fired.”
“You didn't hire me.”
That earned a few uncomfortable glances from nearby guests.
Celeste stepped closer.
“I manage this building.”
“Then you should be interested in why six circuits stayed live during a total building failure.”
She stopped.
That finally got her attention.
During the first blackout, I had been standing beside the west service wall checking a dimming problem.
The entire ballroom died.
Chandeliers.
Kitchen circuits.
Climate control.
Elevators.
Every load I expected to lose had disappeared exactly as designed.
Except six.
Six tiny current draws had remained active for almost seven seconds.
Then they transferred.
Not to emergency power.
Somewhere else.
I had checked the drawings twice.
Those circuits did not exist.
Celeste lowered her voice.
“What are you talking about?”
“Someone wired devices upstream from the ballroom monitoring system.”
“I don't understand.”
“I know.”
Her eyes flashed.
“Watch your tone.”
I looked past her.
Across the room, Matteo Rinaldi had risen from his table.
I knew who he was before anyone told me.
Everyone in Boston did.
Officially, Matteo owned hotels, shipping companies, restaurants, construction firms and a private security company.
Unofficially, people changed sidewalks when men associated with him approached.
His name appeared in newspapers beside phrases such as alleged organized-crime ties and no charges filed.
People feared him.
He seemed perfectly comfortable with that.
Thirty-six.
Tall.
Black suit.
No tie.
Dark hair brushed back.
A scar near one eyebrow.
He had not yelled during the blackout.
That made him more intimidating than the people who had.
Matteo looked toward me.
“Miss Blake.”
The room quieted.
I met his eyes.
“If you shut down my ballroom again, I assume you have a reason.”
“I do.”
“Convince me.”
I nodded toward the chandeliers.
“If I'm wrong, you can have security walk me out.”
Celeste laughed.
“Finally, something sensible.”
I looked at Matteo.
“If I'm right, nobody touches the walls until I inspect them.”
His gaze sharpened.
“What do you expect to find?”
“I don't know.”
“Comforting.”
“It should be.”
“Why?”
“Because whoever installed it worked very hard to make sure people like me wouldn't notice.”
Something changed in his face.
Very slight.
He understood danger.
I turned back to the panel.
Celeste grabbed my wrist.
“Don't.”
I looked down at her fingers.
Then at her.
“Take your hand off me.”
She released me.
I pulled the disconnect.
Darkness swallowed the ballroom.
Gasps.
A glass shattered.
Someone cursed.
Security personnel activated flashlights.
I waited.
One.
Two.
Three.
Then I switched on only the isolated perimeter inspection circuit.
Cold white emergency lights illuminated the ballroom.
Everything beautiful disappeared.
No golden chandeliers.
No romantic candlelight.
Just walls.
Columns.
Wires.
Architecture.
And something else.
Tiny blue lights glowed behind the carved wood panels along the west wall.
One.
Two.
Three.
Four.
Five.
Six.
Nobody spoke.
I pointed.
“Those.”
Matteo crossed the ballroom.
Two security men followed.
He raised one hand without turning around.
They stopped.
“What are they?”
“I don't know yet.”
Celeste stared at the blinking lights.
“Those weren't there earlier.”
“Yes, they were.”
“I would have seen them.”
“No.”
I looked at her.
“The ballroom lights were hiding them.”
Matteo stopped beside me.
“Open the wall.”
A maintenance employee hesitated.
Matteo looked at him.
The man moved immediately.
He removed the first decorative panel.
Behind it sat a matte-black device attached to the hidden conduit.
A tiny camera lens faced the ballroom.
A woman nearby whispered:
“Oh my God.”
Second panel.
Another camera.
Third.
Directional microphone.
Fourth.
Wireless transmitter.
Guests started talking all at once.
Matteo remained completely still.
That was more frightening.
“These weren't installed today,” I said.
“How do you know?”
“Dust around the mounting points. Different hardware generations.”
I examined the nearest module.
“This one may be four years old.”
Matteo's eyes lifted.
“Four years?”
“Maybe more.”
A security officer approached.
“Mr. Rinaldi, we should evacuate.”
“No.”
The single word silenced him.
Matteo turned toward the ballroom.
“Lock the exterior doors.”
Panic spread instantly.
“What?”
“You can't hold us here!”
“I have a senator at my table!”
Matteo ignored them.
“Phones remain with their owners. Nobody transmits anything. Security will establish who entered restricted parts of this building before anyone leaves.”
Celeste stepped forward.
“Matteo, that's insane.”
His eyes moved to her.
She stopped.
Then he turned back to me.
“How many devices?”
“I found six active circuits.”
“That wasn't my question.”
I looked toward the walls.
“If each line branches?”
“Yes?”
“Could be dozens.”
His jaw tightened.
“Find them.”
“I was just fired.”
Something almost resembling amusement touched his eyes.
“Consider yourself rehired.”
“No.”
Nearby security men looked at me as if I had just slapped him.
Matteo tilted his head.
“No?”
“If you want me involved, I work as an independent contractor.”
“You're negotiating now?”
“Yes.”
“In the middle of my compromised building?”
“Seems like my leverage isn't getting any worse.”
For two seconds, he only stared.
Then:
“Fine.”
“And nobody interferes with my work.”
“Fine.”
“And Celeste doesn't touch me again.”
Celeste inhaled sharply.
Matteo looked at her.
“Especially that.”
I picked up my insulated screwdriver.
“Then take me to your electrical drawings.”
Twenty minutes later, I stood inside the building’s private security center on the forty-third floor.
My mistake was assuming the ballroom cameras would be the worst thing we found.
They weren't.
I traced one unauthorized feeder into the surveillance network.
Then another.
And another.
Eventually, I stopped.
Matteo noticed.
“What?”
I pointed at the building schematic.
“This isn't six hidden cameras.”
“What is it?”
I swallowed.
“Someone built a second nervous system inside your building.”
His security chief, Grant Holloway, stepped closer.
“How extensive?”
I looked at the lines.
Private dining rooms.
Conference suites.
Guest penthouses.
Executive elevators.
Matteo’s office.
Even his bedroom floor.
“At least thirty-one devices.”
Silence.
Then I noticed one circuit moving differently.
Active.
Right now.
A tiny burst of current passed through a transmitter.
Someone was sending data out of the building.
I followed the routing.
My stomach dropped.
“Matteo.”
He leaned closer.
“What?”
“The system isn't just recording.”
“What is it doing?”
I looked toward the ballroom several floors beneath us.
“It's transmitting right now.”
His face became completely still.
“To whom?”
May you like
Before I could answer, every monitor in the security room went black.
And someone locked the door from the outside.
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