Chapter 3 - The Camera Lied
Whitcomb’s accusation echoed through the alley.
“She did it!”
Nora stared at him.
“You ran.”
“Because I was afraid of you people!”
Hargrove stepped forward.
“You used the laundry exit.”
“I panicked.”
“You dumped a burner phone.”
Whitcomb stopped.
Detective Aaron Price looked between them.
“I’d like everyone to stop talking.”
Enzo did not move.
“This is my restaurant.”
“No,” Price replied. “It belongs to a hospitality corporation.”
Marcus quietly said, “Technically correct.”
Enzo gave him a look.
Marcus adjusted his glasses.
“Not the time.”
Price turned to Nora.
“Ms. Hayes, you prepared Lily Castellani’s drink?”
“Yes.”
Whitcomb pointed at her.
“See?”
Nora ignored him.
“But the glass Lily drank from wasn’t the one I served.”
Price looked interested.
“How do you know?”
She explained.
The straw.
The napkin.
The residue.
Price looked at Whitcomb.
“And the wrapper found in your jacket?”
Whitcomb went pale.
“I picked it up.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know.”
Nora stared at him.
“That’s your answer?”
“You think I remember every piece of garbage I touch?”
Hargrove said, “You’re the manager. You don’t touch garbage.”
Whitcomb glared at him.
Price raised a hand.
“Enough.”
His phone rang.
He answered.
“Yes.”
He listened.
Then looked at Enzo.
“The hospital confirmed the substance.”
Enzo went rigid.
“What?”
Price named a prescription sedative combined with another compound.
“Could it have killed her?” Enzo asked.
“If she’d consumed more, possibly.”
Nobody spoke.
Nora felt cold.
Lily had only taken several sips.
Price continued.
“The lab is processing the glass.”
Marcus asked, “Fingerprints?”
“Coming.”
Whitcomb immediately said, “They’ll find hers.”
Nora looked at him.
“They should. I carried the original glass.”
Whitcomb smiled nervously.
“Exactly.”
Nora’s eyes narrowed.
Something about the confidence bothered her.
Then she understood.
“You knew.”
Whitcomb’s smile vanished.
“You knew my fingerprints would be on it.”
“What are you talking about?”
“You weren’t trying to keep me from touching the glass because I might destroy evidence.”
She stepped toward him.
“You wanted my prints there.”
Price watched both of them.
Whitcomb shook his head.
“She’s insane.”
“No.”
Nora looked at Enzo.
“The person who swapped Lily’s drink used the same glass.”
Marcus frowned.
“How can you know that?”
“Because if they used a clean glass, my prints wouldn’t be there.”
Price’s face changed slightly.
Nora continued.
“They took the lemonade away, added something, changed the straw, then brought the glass back.”
Hargrove looked at Whitcomb.
“That requires access.”
“And time,” Nora said.
Enzo turned toward the restaurant.
“The camera.”
Everyone followed him upstairs.
Security footage appeared on three monitors.
9:12 p.m.
Nora entered the private dining room.
9:14.
She placed the lemonade in front of Lily.
9:15.
Whitcomb appeared at the door.
He called Nora out.
9:16.
Nora left.
Then—
The footage skipped.
Nine seconds disappeared.
Nora leaned toward the screen.
“Stop.”
Hargrove froze the video.
“What?”
“Play it again.”
They watched.
Marcus said, “I don’t see anything.”
“The chandelier.”
Enzo looked at Nora.
“What about it?”
“The reflection.”
Nobody spoke.
Nora pointed at the mirrored wall.
The camera showed the doorway.
But the mirror reflected the table.
During the supposed uninterrupted footage, the chandelier’s reflection jumped.
Nine seconds had been removed.
Hargrove swore under his breath.
“Someone edited the recording.”
Marcus turned toward Whitcomb.
“Who has access?”
Whitcomb swallowed.
“Security.”
Hargrove’s face hardened.
“No.”
Enzo looked at him.
“Hargrove.”
“Three people can alter these feeds.”
“Names.”
“Me.”
Silence.
“My deputy, Cole.”
“And?”
Hargrove looked toward Marcus.
Marcus slowly removed his glasses.
“Me.”
Nora stared.
Marcus said quietly, “Legal has emergency access for liability reasons.”
Enzo’s gaze moved between his two most trusted men.
Someone in his inner circle had manipulated the camera.
Whitcomb suddenly laughed.
It came out wrong.
Too nervous.
Price turned.
“What’s funny?”
“Nothing.”
Nora watched him.
Then noticed his eyes.
Not on Enzo.
Not on Marcus.
On Hargrove.
Just for a second.
Fear.
Hargrove noticed too.
He walked toward Whitcomb.
“Who are you afraid of?”
“No one.”
“Look at me.”
Whitcomb’s face tightened.
Hargrove lowered his voice.
“Who paid you?”
Whitcomb’s knees seemed to weaken.
“I didn’t poison anybody.”
“That wasn’t my question.”
Price intervened.
“Back away.”
Then a guard rushed inside.
“We found the sedan driver.”
Enzo turned.
“Where?”
“Hospital.”
Nora’s stomach tightened.
“What happened?”
The guard answered.
“Someone tried to silence him.”
---
The driver survived.
His name was Calvin Reese.
Forty-eight.
Former private security.
By midnight, Detective Price had him under guard in a hospital room.
Enzo stood outside the door with Nora.
She frowned.
“Why am I here?”
“Because you saw him.”
“That doesn’t make me useful.”
Enzo looked at her.
“You’ve been useful all night.”
Nora crossed her arms.
“That almost sounded like a compliment.”
“It wasn’t.”
She glanced at him.
“Do you always talk like that?”
“Like what?”
“Like every sentence is a threat.”
Enzo almost answered.
Then the hospital door opened.
Price stepped out.
“He’ll talk.”
Enzo entered.
Calvin Reese looked terrible.
His eyes moved to Nora.
“That’s her.”
Nora stiffened.
Enzo asked, “You recognize her?”
“Yes.”
“From where?”
“She was outside the restaurant.”
Calvin swallowed.
“She saw me.”
Nora stepped forward.
“Who hired you?”
Calvin closed his eyes.
“I don’t know his name.”
Enzo’s voice went cold.
“Wrong answer.”
“I swear.”
Calvin opened his eyes.
“I only handled transportation.”
“For Whitcomb?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“He was supposed to leave after the girl collapsed.”
Nora asked, “With what?”
Calvin looked at her.
“A hundred thousand dollars.”
Enzo’s expression became lethal.
“For poisoning my daughter?”
“No.”
Everyone froze.
Calvin shook his head.
“Whitcomb wasn’t hired to poison Lily.”
Enzo leaned closer.
“Then who was?”
Calvin looked toward the door.
Then whispered:
May you like
“The person sitting beside her.”
---
