Chapter 3 - THE CAMERA
I didn’t say anything.
I didn’t have to.
Preston already knew.
So did I.
The ballroom entrance had a clear view of the coat area.
Including the chair where Sophie’s jacket had been hanging for most of the reception.
I pulled out my phone.
Preston moved immediately.
“What are you doing?”
“Calling hotel security.”
“For what?”
“To see the footage.”
He laughed too quickly.
“There’s no reason for that.”
“That’s interesting.”
“What?”
“You just accused an eight-year-old of stealing from you in front of two hundred people, but checking the camera is suddenly unreasonable?”
His eyes hardened.
“You’re insane.”
“Then the video should prove it.”
Dad grabbed my wrist.
“Put the phone down.”
I looked at his hand.
Then at him.
“Let go.”
“Rachel.”
“Let. Go.”
He released me.
Mom stepped closer.
“We don’t need police or security dragged into this.”
“I didn’t say police.”
Preston glanced toward the ballroom doors.
That glance told me more than anything he’d said.
I dialed the hotel front desk.
A woman answered.
“Westbridge Hotel, how may I assist you?”
“I’m in the Grand Ballroom. I need security.”
Preston grabbed for my phone.
I stepped back.
Vanessa caught his sleeve.
“Preston!”
“What?” he snapped.
She stared at him.
“Why are you acting like this?”
For the first time, suspicion entered her face.
He lowered his voice.
“I’m trying to protect our wedding.”
“From a security video?”
He didn’t answer.
The ballroom was quieter now.
Guests had stopped pretending they weren’t listening.
I finished the call.
Security was coming.
Preston walked toward the bar.
I followed.
He turned sharply.
“Back off.”
“Tell me the truth.”
“I already did.”
“Did you put that phone in Sophie’s jacket?”
His jaw twitched.
“No.”
“Look at me.”
“I am.”
“You’re looking at my shoulder.”
He leaned close.
“You have no idea what you’re doing.”
Something in his tone changed.
It wasn’t anger anymore.
It was a warning.
I felt it immediately.
“What does that mean?”
He lowered his voice further.
“You want to dig into this? Fine. But don’t complain when things come out that you don’t want Sophie hearing.”
My stomach tightened.
“What things?”
He smiled again.
This time there was no pretending.
“Ask your ex-husband.”
I froze.
Sophie’s father, Daniel, had been dead for three years.
Killed in a highway accident forty miles outside Sacramento.
Preston knew that.
So why would he say that?
Before I could speak, two hotel security officers entered the ballroom.
One of them asked, “Who requested footage review?”
I raised my hand.
May you like
Preston turned away.
And while everyone watched security approach me, my brother quietly slipped something from his pocket and dropped it into a champagne glass.
