Then Vesta handed Orson a folded sheet of paper.
He read it.
Looked toward the house.
And nodded.
Hayes frowned.
“What were they planning?”
He opened the second file.
The familiar attack appeared.
Kale throwing the ball.
Me falling.
Vesta hiding the evidence.
But this version continued longer than the one Detective Brooks had shown us.
After the ambulance left, Orson approached Vesta.
They stood beside the fern.
Orson pointed toward the planter.
Vesta shook her head.
Then a third person entered the frame.
Hayes leaned closer.
“Who’s that?”
The figure wore a dark jacket.
His face was partially hidden.
He bent beside the fern.
Reached behind the planter.
And removed the steel ball.
My heart hammered.
The missing weapon.
Someone had taken it after Vesta hid it.
The man placed it inside a small black bag.
Then walked toward the house.
Hayes paused the video.
He enlarged the image.
The man’s face remained obscured.
But something on his jacket was visible.
A small embroidered logo.
I recognized it immediately.
My stomach dropped.
IRONLINE FREIGHT SOLUTIONS.
I stared at the screen.
Someone wearing my company’s uniform had removed the weapon.
Hayes looked at me.
“Marin?”
I couldn’t move.
Then I remembered Tessa’s message.
We need you to identify someone.
My fingers trembled.
I reached toward the laptop.
Zoomed in.
The jacket belonged to one of our maintenance supervisors.
But the man wearing it wasn’t an employee.
I knew that because I had personally approved every uniform order.
The logo on his jacket was an older design.
One we had stopped using three years earlier.
Someone had deliberately chosen that jacket.
Someone wanted the person removing the ball to appear connected to my company.
Hayes stared at me.
“Do you recognize him?”
I shook my head.
Then pointed toward the third file.
PRIVATE STUDY — ARCHIVE 2008
Hayes hesitated.
Then clicked it.
The screen went black.
A timestamp appeared.
OCTOBER 19, 2008 — 11:43 PM
The image flickered.
Then Arthur Mercer’s study appeared.
A desk.
A lamp.
A bookshelf.
And Arthur himself, seated in a leather chair.
He looked older than I remembered from photographs.
Tired.
Frightened.
A second man stood near the fireplace.
Orson.
They were arguing.
The camera had audio.
Arthur’s voice filled the room.
“You used my properties to secure those loans.”
Orson crossed his arms.
“You don’t understand the arrangements.”
“I understand fraud when I see it.”
Hayes went completely still.
Arthur continued.
“And I know what happened to Daniel.”
Orson’s expression changed.
“Be careful, Father.”
Arthur stood.
“No. You be careful.”
He pointed toward the desk.
“I have copies of everything.”
Orson took a step forward.
“Then give them to me.”
Arthur shook his head.
“Not until Vesta tells me why she was in the garden that night.”
My heart stopped.
Hayes leaned closer.
On the screen, Orson’s face darkened.
“Leave Vesta out of this.”
Arthur stared at him.
“Then tell me who threw the ball.”
The video flickered.
A burst of static filled the speakers.
Then the image returned.
Arthur was standing beside the desk.
Orson had moved closer.
And a third person was entering the room.
The camera captured only part of the doorway.
A woman’s hand.
A cream-colored sleeve.
Then a voice.
“Arthur, put those papers down.”
Hayes whispered, “Vesta.”
The woman stepped into view.
It was her.
Younger.
But unmistakable.
She approached Arthur.
He looked at her with disgust.
“You lied to me.”
Vesta stopped.
“Arthur, please.”
“You told me Daniel fell.”
Orson moved toward the door.
Arthur pointed at him.
“Stay where you are.”
The room fell silent.
Then Vesta said something that made my blood run cold.
“We did what was necessary.”
Arthur stared at her.
“For money?”
Vesta’s expression hardened.
“For the family.”
Arthur shook his head.
“No.”
He reached toward the telephone.
“I’m calling the police.”
Vesta moved quickly.
“Arthur, don’t.”
He picked up the receiver.
Then the camera shifted slightly.
Someone else was standing behind the door.
A fourth person.
Watching.
Arthur looked toward them.
His expression changed.
“What are you doing here?”
The figure stepped forward.
Hayes leaned closer.
I gripped his arm.
The video froze.
A loading symbol appeared.
Then the screen went black.
Hayes stared at it.
“No. No, come on.”
He tried restarting the file.
An error message appeared.
ADDITIONAL SEGMENT AVAILABLE — ACCESS RESTRICTED
I felt my heart pounding.
Then a new email arrived.
Not from Tessa.
Not from Claire.
From an address I had never seen before.
The subject line contained only four words.
YOU SAW TOO MUCH.
Hayes opened it.
Inside was a single photograph.
Taken less than five minutes earlier.
It showed our hospital room.
From the hallway.
Through the narrow glass panel in the door.
Hayes sitting beside me.
The laptop open.
Both of us staring at the screen.
