Mason held the thick manila envelope under his arm while we walked out of the narrow service corridor. We pushed through the swinging wooden doors and entered a quiet carpeted hallway near the main hotel lobby. We did not go straight back into the dining room because we needed to secure the physical evidence the investigator left behind.
We walked toward the front desk, and Mason spotted the senior hotel manager standing near a brass luggage cart. The older man wore a sharp black suit with a gold name tag, and he recognized Mason right away.
"Good evening, Mr. Kingsley," the manager greeted him with a respectful nod. "Is the dinner service meeting your expectations?"
