Chapter 2 - THE MISSING BAG
For half a second, I couldn’t breathe.
Then instinct took over.
“My daughter’s bag is missing.”
Detective Torres immediately turned toward me.
“What was inside it?”
“Milk.”
“Diapers.”
“Medication.”
“And a flash drive.”
Her expression changed.
“What was on the drive?”
“The original export of the nursery camera.”
Preston heard me.
“You brought the original here?”
I ignored him.
Torres raised her hand.
“Lock the exterior exits.”
An officer spoke into his radio.
The gala guests began talking over one another.
People checked beneath tables.
Servers stopped where they were.
Harper security started moving toward the doors.
Torres pointed at them.
“Your personnel stay inside.”
Evelyn crossed her arms.
“This is absurd.”
Torres looked directly at her.
“A three-month-old child’s medical supplies are missing.”
“That is not my problem.”
Several people heard her.
Their expressions changed.
Evelyn realized it too late.
I moved toward my chair.
The black clutch was still beneath it.
My coat was still draped over the back.
The diaper bag was gone.
My daughter, Ivy, shifted against my chest.
I kissed the top of her head.
She smelled like powder and milk.
Normal.
Safe.
For now.
“Who knew what was in the bag?” Torres asked.
“My attorney.”
“Your security consultant.”
“And Harold Pike.”
“Anyone else?”
I looked at Preston.
“Possibly him.”
His face tightened.
“I didn’t touch your bag.”
“You watched our daughter stop breathing.”
“Claire.”
“Don’t say my name like we’re having a marital disagreement.”
He looked away.
Torres stepped between us.
“Focus.”
She was right.
I forced myself to think.
The diaper bag had been behind me when Preston slapped me.
I remembered reaching inside fifteen minutes before that to get Ivy’s pacifier.
Then Evelyn had approached.
Then the argument had started.
Then everything had exploded.
“Security cameras.”
I looked toward the ballroom ceiling.
“There are cameras everywhere.”
Evelyn responded instantly.
“The ballroom feeds are private.”
Torres didn’t even glance at her.
“Not anymore.”
The technician hurried to the control station.
His hands shook.
“I can pull the local feeds.”
“Do it.”
He opened six camera angles on the ballroom screens.
One showed the west entrance.
One showed the stage.
One showed the dining floor.
One showed the corridor outside the restrooms.
Torres pointed at the time code.
“Go back twenty minutes.”
The footage reversed.
There I was.
Standing beside the table.
Ivy in my arms.
Preston approaching.
Evelyn close behind him.
The first slap happened again.
A murmur moved through the ballroom.
I looked away.
I didn’t need to see it twice.
Torres didn’t.
“Slow it.”
The technician slowed the footage.
As Preston stepped toward me, most of the room turned their attention to us.
But one person didn’t.
A server in a white jacket moved behind my table.
He bent down.
His hand reached toward the diaper bag.
Then he walked away.
“Freeze.”
The technician stopped the video.
Torres pointed at the screen.
“Zoom in.”
The image enlarged.
The server’s face was partially hidden by a catering cap.
But I recognized something.
His left hand.
A dark mark crossed the knuckles.
Not a tattoo.
A burn scar.
My stomach twisted.
“I know him.”
Torres turned.
“Who?”
“He worked at our house.”
Preston looked at the screen.
“No, he didn’t.”
“Yes.”
I stared at the scar.
“He installed the new nursery windows.”
Preston frowned.
“That was six months ago.”
“I remember him.”
The man had spent two days inside our home.
His name had been Owen.
At least that was the name printed on his badge.
On the second day, I caught him standing in the hallway outside our bedroom even though the windows were on the opposite side of the house.
He had claimed he was looking for a bathroom.
Evelyn had hired the contractor.
Torres looked toward Harper security.
“Find him.”
Two officers moved quickly toward the service corridors.
I looked at Evelyn.
She was watching the screen without expression.
“You know him.”
“No.”
“You hired the company.”
“I don’t personally approve window installers.”
“Harold Pike did.”
Her eyes flickered.
That was enough.
Torres noticed.
“Where is Mr. Pike?”
Evelyn said nothing.
Preston looked toward his mother.
“Where is Harold?”
“Why are you asking me?”
“Because he doesn’t move without you.”
Her mouth tightened.
“That is not true.”
“Everything he did was for you.”
Evelyn smiled without warmth.
“Be careful, Preston.”
He looked almost shocked by the threat.
Maybe he finally understood what it felt like to stand on the other side of her affection.
My watch vibrated again.
Another message.
The drive is insurance.
Then another.
Leave through the kitchen in five minutes or it disappears forever.
I showed Torres.
She read it.
“Do not respond.”
“What if he destroys it?”
“You said you have backups.”
“Yes.”
“Then the drive isn’t why he wants you outside.”
I knew she was right.
The message wasn’t about evidence.
It was bait.
Preston leaned close enough to see.
“He wants Claire?”
Torres turned sharply.
“Step back.”
He did.
For once.
Torres spoke quietly.
“Whoever sent this knows where you are.”
“They know what matters to you.”
“And they believe you’ll leave police protection to recover something you already backed up.”
I looked at Ivy.
“He may know where I live.”
“We’re not sending you home.”
“He may know where my mother is.”
“Is your mother involved?”
“No.”
“Then don’t assume.”
The officer’s radio cracked.
“We found the catering jacket.”
Everyone nearby went silent.
Torres lifted the radio.
“Location?”
“Service stairwell.”
“Suspect?”
“Gone.”
“Bag?”
“Negative.”
Torres cursed under her breath.
Then another officer came through the side entrance holding a clear plastic evidence bag.
Inside was a black baseball cap.
The cap from the video.
The technician rewound another corridor feed.
The man in the catering uniform entered the stairwell.
Thirty-two seconds later, someone else emerged.
Not wearing the uniform.
A dark suit.
Black tie.
No hat.
He walked with his face turned away.
Then he passed beneath a brighter light.
The technician froze the image.
Preston whispered,
“No.”
I looked at him.
He knew the man.
Evelyn did too.
Her face had finally changed.
It wasn’t fear this time.
It was fury.
Torres studied the image.
“Name?”
Preston swallowed.
“Graham Pike.”
My heart dropped.
“Harold’s son?”
He nodded.
Graham Pike had been Preston’s best friend since boarding school.
He had stood beside Preston at our wedding.
He had visited Ivy in the hospital after she was born.
He had brought me flowers after the nursery incident.
He had held my daughter.
I nearly became sick.
“Where does he work?”
Torres asked.
Preston looked at his mother.
Neither answered.
I did.
“For Evelyn.”
Torres turned toward me.
“Doing what?”
I had never known his exact title.
He appeared at board meetings.
Private dinners.
Election fundraisers.
Trouble followed him.
Then disappeared.
Preston finally spoke.
“Problems.”
Torres narrowed her eyes.
“What does that mean?”
“It means when the family has a problem, Graham fixes it.”
“What kind of problems?”
Preston looked around the ballroom.
For the first time, he seemed aware that two hundred people could hear him.
“Any kind.”
Evelyn stepped forward.
“Stop talking.”
Preston laughed.
It sounded almost hysterical.
“Why?”
“You’re done protecting me anyway.”
“I am protecting this family.”
“No.”
“You’re protecting yourself.”
Her eyes sharpened.
“Everything you own exists because of me.”
“And apparently everything I thought I owned belongs to my daughter.”
A strange sound went through the ballroom.
Almost like the crowd had collectively understood the real fracture.
This wasn’t simply a family scandal anymore.
The Harper empire was beginning to split in public.
Torres turned toward Preston.
“Mr. Harper, I need a list of properties Graham Pike can access.”
“I can give you six.”
Evelyn glared at him.
“Preston.”
“Seven.”
“Stop.”
“Actually eight.”
He pulled out his phone.
“Give it to me.”
She moved toward him.
An officer blocked her.
Evelyn’s voice dropped.
“You have no idea what you are doing.”
Preston stared at her.
“I think I finally do.”
Torres took the phone.
As she scrolled through the properties, one address caught her attention.
“What is 1198 River Street?”
I knew it immediately.
“The old Harper records warehouse.”
Preston nodded.
“It’s been empty for years.”
My skin prickled.
“No.”
He looked at me.
“What?”
“It isn’t empty.”
Everyone turned.
I remembered the week before Ivy’s birth.
Evelyn had insisted I attend a board luncheon.
On the drive home, our car had stopped outside River Street.
She went inside for almost forty minutes.
When she returned, she had been carrying a file box.
“What’s there?” Torres asked.
“I don’t know.”
“But Evelyn does.”
Torres looked at her.
Evelyn gave a small smile.
“You’re welcome to waste your time.”
That answer told Torres enough.
She spoke into her radio.
“Send a unit to River Street.”
Evelyn remained still.
But Harold Pike’s empty chair suddenly mattered more.
So did Graham.
So did the missing diaper bag.
My watch buzzed again.
This time, there was an image attached.
I opened it.
It showed the diaper bag sitting on a metal table.
Beside it was the flash drive.
And beside the flash drive was a photograph.
A photograph of me.
Taken through the nursery window.
I zoomed in.
The date stamped on the image was the night before Ivy’s breathing emergency.
Someone had been watching our house.
Torres stared at it.
Then a second image arrived.
A different photograph.
Evelyn entering the nursery.
A third photograph.
Preston standing beside the crib.
A fourth.
Dr. Harrow leaving our home.
Then the final image appeared.
My hand started shaking.
It showed Harold Pike standing inside the nursery.
He was holding the hidden camera.
The same camera whose footage was currently exposing the Harper family.
Torres looked at me.
“You said you installed that camera.”
“I thought I did.”
“What do you mean?”
“I bought it.”
“I hid it behind the bookshelf.”
“But that picture was taken before I installed it.”
Preston stared at me.
“When did you put the camera there?”
“Two days before Ivy almost died.”
I looked at the timestamp on the photograph.
Harold had been holding it five days before that.
My mind raced backward.
The package had arrived anonymously.
No return address.
Inside was the small camera.
A note had been taped to it.
If you want to know what happens when you sleep, use this.
I had assumed the sender was someone trying to help me.
Someone who knew Evelyn had been entering our home.
I had never discovered who sent it.
Until now.
Maybe Harold hadn’t been helping Evelyn erase the video.
Maybe he had created the video in the first place.
The ballroom doors opened again.
A uniformed officer rushed toward Torres.
“Detective.”
She turned.
“We found Mr. Harold Pike.”
“Where?”
The officer’s face was grim.
“River Street.”
Evelyn’s fingers curled against her dress.
Torres lowered her voice.
“Alive?”
“Yes.”
“Condition?”
“He’s conscious.”
“Then what’s the problem?”
The officer looked at me.
“He says he’ll only speak to Claire.”
Preston frowned.
“Why?”
The officer hesitated.
“Because he says the nursery video was never meant to expose Evelyn.”
I felt Ivy move against me.
Torres asked the question I couldn’t.
“Who was it meant to expose?”
May you like
The officer looked directly at Preston.
“Her husband.”
