Chapter 8 - THE WOMAN ON THE CAMERA
Damian watched the footage three times.
“Elena,” Harris asked, “where were you that night?”
“I don’t know.”
“You don’t know?”
“Six months ago? At two in the morning? Probably asleep.”
“Any witness?”
“My three-year-old.”
Harris sighed.
Damian leaned closer to the screen.
“Pause.”
The detective paused it.
“Zoom in on her hand.”
Harris frowned.
“Why?”
“Do it.”
The image enlarged.
The woman on screen wore Elena’s uniform.
Same height.
Same build.
Same face.
But Damian pointed at the left hand.
“Elena has a scar.”
Everyone looked at her.
Elena turned her palm over.
A pale line crossed the base of her thumb.
“I burned myself when I was nineteen.”
The woman in the video had no scar.
Harris straightened.
“Good catch.”
Damian looked at Elena.
“I notice things.”
She gave him a tired look.
“Apparently not fiancées.”
He almost flinched.
“Fair.”
The forensic team took the video.
Two hours later they confirmed what Damian already suspected.
Deepfake.
Sophisticated.
But fake.
The investigation changed.
Elena went from suspect to probable victim.
Then Damian’s security chief entered.
“Sir.”
“What?”
“We found something in Ms. Hail’s car.”
He placed a small device on the table.
A portable facial scanning camera.
Elena’s skin crawled.
“She scanned me?”
“Possibly.”
“When?”
The security chief shook his head.
“We don’t know.”
Damian looked toward the cottage.
“Mia.”
Elena stood instantly.
“What about her?”
“If Vanessa recorded you without permission, she may have recorded both of you.”
They searched the staff cottage.
Elena felt violated before they even found anything.
Then a technician pulled a tiny camera from behind a bookshelf.
Elena stared at it.
“No.”
A second camera was found near the kitchen.
A third beside the front door.
Elena’s hands shook.
“She watched us.”
Damian’s jaw tightened.
“She watched my daughter sleep.”
“No camera in the bedroom.”
“That doesn’t make it better!”
“I know.”
Elena pressed both hands to her face.
Damian stepped toward her.
Stopped.
He didn’t touch her.
Good.
She couldn’t handle kindness right then.
Harris entered holding an evidence bag.
Inside was a small memory card.
“We found this taped under Vanessa’s jewelry drawer.”
“What’s on it?”
“We’re checking.”
Twenty minutes later, the answer came.
Voice recordings.
Hundreds of them.
Staff conversations.
Damian’s phone calls.
Elena talking to Mia.
Vanessa had been recording the house for nearly a year.
Then one file changed everything.
A man’s voice.
“You’re getting sloppy.”
Vanessa answered.
“Damian doesn’t suspect anything.”
“He will.”
“After the wedding, it won’t matter.”
“What about the housekeeper?”
“I’m handling her.”
“How?”
A pause.
Then Vanessa laughed.
“If everything collapses, Elena goes down for it.”
The recording crackled.
The man asked,
“And the kid?”
Vanessa’s response made Elena’s blood freeze.
“Kids are useful. They make mothers predictable.”
Damian stopped the audio.
“Who is the man?”
The technician checked metadata.
“We don’t know.”
Then Elena remembered Vanessa’s phone.
The caller.
“Preston.”
Damian looked at her.
“What?”
“The man who called her earlier.”
He turned to Harris.
“Find him.”
The detective was already typing.
Thirty seconds later, his expression shifted.
He rotated the screen.
PRESTON VALE.
Age thirty-eight.
Financial consultant.
Former employee of Cross Industrial.
Terminated five years earlier.
Damian stared at the photo.
“I know him.”
Elena looked at him.
“How?”
Damian’s face darkened.
“I had him arrested.”
“For what?”
“Embezzlement.”
Harris frowned.
“How much?”
“Six million.”
“And he went to prison?”
Damian shook his head.
“Charges collapsed after a witness disappeared.”
Elena stared at Vanessa’s ledger.
“Who was the witness?”
Damian answered slowly.
“My former CFO.”
“Where is he now?”
“No one knows.”
Then Harris’s phone rang.
He answered.
Listened.
His face tightened.
“They found Vanessa’s car.”
“Where?”
“Twenty miles north.”
“Vanessa?”
“Gone.”
May you like
Harris looked directly at Damian.
“There’s blood on the driver’s seat.”
