Chapter 4 - The Missing Eleven Minutes
By midnight, nobody had left the estate.
I ordered mattresses brought into the ballroom for staff who needed to sleep.
No one liked that.
I did not care.
Twenty-three employees had legitimate access to the upper floor.
Fourteen security personnel had access to the surrounding hallways.
Six contractors had entered the property in the past forty-eight hours.
Every one of them became a question.
Marco established interviews in the library.
Victor Caruso protested first.
“This is absurd.”
I sat behind my desk.
“Sit.”
He remained standing.
“I have managed this house for seven years.”
“And tonight someone used my house to terrorize my children.”
“I had nothing to do with that.”
“Sit.”
He sat.
Victor was fifty-two.
Gray at his temples.
Meticulous clothes.
Meticulous speech.
He had been hired after my previous household manager was arrested.
In seven years, Victor had never once given me reason to distrust him.
That meant nothing tonight.
“Where were you between 2:14 and 2:25?”
“In the kitchen.”
“Witnesses?”
“Chef Ramirez.”
Marco checked his notes.
“He confirms.”
“Did you enter the laundry corridor?”
“Earlier.”
“When?”
“Around two.”
“Did you see Elena?”
“Yes.”
“And Sophie?”
“Yes.”
“And the doll?”
His eyes shifted.
Barely.
But I saw it.
“What doll?”
There.
A lie.
I leaned forward.
“The doll Sophie carried.”
“I may have noticed it.”
“You just asked what doll.”
“Adrien—”
“Why?”
He took a breath.
“Because I’m tired. Because I’ve been questioned for two hours. Because your armed men are treating me like a criminal.”
“You work for one.”
The words silenced him.
I continued.
“What did you say to Sophie?”
“Nothing important.”
“Try again.”
“I told Elena the girl should not be wandering around.”
“And?”
“That was it.”
“Sophie says someone downstairs clicks a black ring against tables.”
Victor frowned.
“I don’t wear a ring.”
I watched him.
He seemed genuinely confused.
Or he was excellent.
“Go.”
He stood.
Before leaving, he looked back.
“I care about those children.”
“For your sake, I hope that’s true.”
Chef Ramirez confirmed Victor’s alibi.
So did two kitchen assistants.
All three placed him there during the missing eleven minutes.
Unless four people were lying together, Victor could not have installed the nursery devices during that window.
But he could have helped someone else.
The next person was Bianca Hill, the senior nanny.
Thirty-four.
Excellent references.
No criminal record.
She had cared for the triplets since they were six months old.
Bianca entered crying.
“Mr. Moretti, I swear—”
“Sit.”
“I would never hurt them.”
“Then help me find who did.”
She wiped her face.
“I will.”
“Where were you at 2:14?”
“With Nora.”
“Where?”
“Nursery.”
Marco checked his notes.
“The camera goes dark at 2:14.”
Bianca looked confused.
“I didn’t know that.”
“When did you leave?”
“Around 2:16. Nora fell asleep and I went to prepare bottles.”
“So the nursery was empty?”
“For a few minutes.”
“Who knew that?”
“Anyone who knows the routine.”
My stomach tightened.
“Which is?”
“Most household staff.”
Too many doors.
Too many keys.
“Did you see anyone upstairs?”
Bianca stared at the carpet.
“Maybe.”
Marco leaned forward.
“Who?”
“I don’t know.”
“Describe them.”
“A man at the end of the hall.”
“Staff?”
“I only saw him from behind.”
“Clothes?”
“Dark jacket.”
“Height?”
“Taller than me.”
That described half my organization.
“Anything else?”
“He walked like…”
She stopped.
“Like what?”
“Like he belonged there.”
The answer bothered me more than if she had said he ran.
Criminals sneaked.
Trusted men walked.
After Bianca, we interviewed everyone who could have been near the nursery.
The same problem appeared repeatedly.
Nobody saw a stranger.
That left two possibilities.
Either the intruder was extraordinarily skilled—
Or he wasn’t a stranger.
At 1:37 a.m., Luca entered carrying a tablet.
“I recovered part of the deleted security log.”
“Part?”
“The video files were overwritten intentionally, but system metadata remained.”
Marco stood.
“What does it show?”
“Someone logged into the camera controller at 2:13.”
“Account?”
“Administrative.”
“Whose?”
Luca swallowed.
“Yours.”
I stared at him.
Marco’s voice became dangerous.
“Adrien wasn’t at the estate at 2:13.”
Correct.
I had been twenty miles away.
“So someone used my credentials.”
“Yes.”
“From where?”
“Internal terminal.”
“Which one?”
Luca enlarged a floor plan.
A red mark appeared.
My private office.
The room we were currently sitting in.
Marco immediately walked toward the computer on my desk.
“Who has access?”
“Me.”
“And?”
“You.”
He looked at me.
“Cleaning?”
“Only with supervision.”
“Victor?”
“Occasionally.”
“Anyone else?”
I thought.
One man came to mind.
My lawyer and oldest friend.
Gabriel Russo.
Gabriel had been part of my life since we were seventeen.
He had negotiated businesses.
Settled disputes.
Protected my legal interests.
He knew my passwords because he had helped design half the systems protecting my accounts.
I hated the thought before it fully formed.
“No.”
Marco heard the resistance in my voice.
“What?”
“Gabriel was here today.”
“When?”
“Lunch.”
“When did he leave?”
I checked the day in my memory.
We had eaten in the west dining room.
He received a call.
I left first for a meeting downtown.
Gabriel said he would finish coffee and leave.
“Maybe two.”
Marco’s expression changed.
“Before the cameras went dark.”
“Yes.”
“Did he have access to this office?”
“He always has.”
Marco said nothing.
That irritated me.
“Say it.”
“I don’t need to.”
“You think Gabriel did this.”
“I think we check everybody.”
“Gabriel is family.”
“So were half the men who tried to kill your father.”
The words hit exactly where he intended.
My father had died because he trusted blood more than evidence.
I stood.
“Call Gabriel.”
Marco dialed.
No answer.
Again.
No answer.
A third time.
Voicemail.
I tried myself.
Nothing.
“Track his phone.”
Luca started typing.
Then stopped.
“Off.”
“Car?”
“Give me a minute.”
Thirty seconds later he found it.
Gabriel’s vehicle had crossed a toll camera outside the city at 8:42 p.m.
Heading north.
“Destination?” I asked.
“Unknown.”
Marco looked at me.
“Was he supposed to travel?”
“No.”
A horrible silence followed.
Then another guard entered.
“Boss, we found something in the office.”
He held a black onyx ring.
A raven engraved on its face.
Exactly as Sophie had described.
Marco stared at it.
“Damien’s?”
“Looks like it.”
“Where?”
The guard pointed.
“Behind the curtains.”
My office.
The terminal used to disable the cameras.
Damien’s ring.
Gabriel missing.
Everything seemed to point in one direction.
Too neatly.
I walked toward the ring without touching it.
“That wasn’t dropped accidentally.”
Marco nodded.
“Someone wanted us to find it.”
“Which means?”
“Either Damien wants us to know he was here…”
“Or someone wants us chasing Damien.”
Luca’s computer suddenly chimed.
He looked down.
“What now?”
“The house network just received an email.”
“To who?”
“You.”
I went to the screen.
No sender.
No subject.
One sentence.
ASK ELENA WHY HER HUSBAND REALLY DIED.
I read it twice.
Then looked toward the ceiling, as though I could see through it to the room where Elena and Sophie were sleeping beside my children.
For the first time that night, suspicion turned in a direction I had not expected.
The maid who had found the doll.
The woman whose daughter had exposed the devices.
And apparently, a dead husband connected to something someone believed I did not know.
Marco read the message.
“Who was Elena’s husband?”
“I don’t know.”
He stared at me.
“She’s worked here three years.”
“I don’t investigate the spouses of every employee.”
“You investigate everyone.”
He was right.
Which meant someone else had screened Elena before she was hired.
I opened her personnel file.
Emergency contact: none.
Marital status: widowed.
Husband: Mateo Vega.
The name meant nothing for three seconds.
Then memory struck me.
Mateo Vega.
A driver.
Seven years earlier.
A warehouse ambush.
A burned vehicle.
Three dead men.
One missing shipment.
I slowly looked at Marco.
He had remembered too.
May you like
Mateo Vega had died working for me.
And Elena had never once told me.
