Chapter 3 - THE CAMERA NOBODY KNEW ABOUT
My father's word stayed in my head.
Camera.
I looked around the room.
“What camera?”
He pointed toward the hallway.
Then toward the ceiling.
Detective Mason followed his gaze.
“There could be a security camera.”
My mother immediately shook her head.
“No.”
Too fast.
Mason noticed.
“Why are you so certain?”
“There aren't any cameras upstairs.”
My father struck his wheelchair arm.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
He pointed toward an old smoke detector above Clara's bedroom door.
I stared at it.
“That isn't a smoke detector.”
Mason removed it.
Behind the plastic cover was a tiny lens.
A hidden camera.
My stomach tightened.
“Who installed this?”
Nobody answered.
Mason examined the device.
“It's still powered.”
“Can we access the recording?”
“Possibly.”
The camera was connected to a small recording unit hidden inside the attic.
We found it behind an insulation panel.
There were hours of footage.
Mason opened the file from three nights earlier.
At first, the screen showed an empty hallway.
Then Clara appeared.
She was holding her phone.
She looked terrified.
She walked into the bedroom.
Thirty seconds later, Derek entered.
My fists tightened.
Derek watched the footage beside me.
He looked sick.
On screen, Clara backed away.
Derek said something.
The audio was faint.
Mason increased the volume.
“You don't understand,” Derek said.
Clara shook her head.
“You promised me you would stay out of this.”
“I didn't have a choice.”
“You always have a choice.”
Then Derek reached for her phone.
Clara pulled away.
The footage ended.
Mason looked at Derek.
“Explain.”
Derek shook his head.
“I wasn't trying to hurt her.”
“Then why were you there?”
“I came to warn her.”
“About what?”
Derek looked at me.
Then away.
“Your employer.”
The room became silent.
“What does my employer have to do with my wife?”
Derek rubbed his face.
“Everything.”
My brother finally told us the truth.
Three months earlier, he had discovered that Vance Logistics was falsifying transportation records.
Shipments were being rerouted.
Invoices were being changed.
Drivers were being paid through shell companies.
Derek had confronted one of the company's executives.
That executive had warned him to stop digging.
“What executive?” I asked.
Derek swallowed.
“Richard Vance.”
My supervisor.
The man who had personally assigned me the three-day high-security trip.
The man who had told my family I couldn't be contacted.
The man who knew exactly when I would be away.
I felt the blood drain from my face.
Mason asked, “Why would Vance care about Clara?”
Derek stared at the floor.
“Because Clara found the financial records.”
My heart stopped.
“What records?”
“She was helping me.”
“Why didn't she tell me?”
“Because she was afraid.”
I remembered the headaches.
The sleepless nights.
The way Clara had started checking the windows before bed.
I had asked her what was wrong.
She had smiled.
“Nothing, Alex.”
She had lied to protect me.
Mason rewound the recording.
The footage continued.
Clara was speaking to Derek.
“I sent copies.”
“To who?”
“A lawyer.”
“Which lawyer?”
“Martin Hale.”
Derek's face changed.
“I thought he was dead.”
“He isn't.”
Then there was a sound from downstairs.
Clara froze.
Derek whispered, “Someone's here.”
They both looked toward the door.
A shadow crossed the hallway.
The footage ended.
Mason checked the timestamp.
It was 10:17 p.m.
Three hours later, Clara was dead.
Mason immediately called for a forensic team.
But there was another problem.
The recording had been partially deleted.
Someone had tried to erase the footage.
Luckily, the hidden camera had uploaded a backup to a remote server.
Mason was able to recover the missing segment.
At 10:18 p.m., my mother entered the hallway.
She walked toward Clara's room.
Behind her came Aunt Beatrice.
Then another man.
I didn't recognize him.
He wore a dark suit.
Mason paused the image.
“Do you know him?”
Derek whispered his name.
“Victor Kane.”
I looked at him.
“Who is Victor Kane?”
Derek's answer made my blood run cold.
“He's Richard Vance's security chief.”
Mason stared at the screen.
The man entered Clara's bedroom.
My mother followed.
Aunt Beatrice closed the door.
And eight minutes later...
Victor Kane walked out alone.
Clara never appeared on camera again.
Then the footage showed my mother leaving the room carrying something.
A phone.
Clara's phone.
I turned toward her.
She was standing downstairs.
She had heard everything.
Her face was expressionless.
Then her phone rang.
She looked at the screen.
She answered.
“Hello?”
A voice spoke.
My mother went pale.
She whispered:
“They know.”
May you like
Then she hung up.
And every police officer in the room reached for their weapons.
