Chapter 7 - The Security Footage
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“No,” Erin gasped, physically stepping backward as if the small amber bottle were a live grenade. “No, that’s impossible. I haven’t been in the east wing since this morning. I didn’t take it!”
“The police will be here in five minutes, Erin,” Mrs. Kesler said, her voice tight with regret. “I have to hand this over to them. You know the protocol.”
“Mrs. Kesler, please, you know me!” Erin begged, tears instantly blurring her vision. If she was arrested for stealing narcotics, she would lose her job, her clean record, and any hope of securing a loan for her mother’s treatment. The fourteen thousand dollars would vanish forever. Mary Hale would die.
Before Mrs. Kesler could respond, the kitchen doors swung open with a violent crash.
Nathaniel strode into the room. He didn't look like the polished CEO who smiled for the society pages. He looked like a man ready to tear the walls down.
“Give me the bottle, Mrs. Kesler,” Nathaniel commanded, holding his hand out.
The housekeeper hesitated. “Sir, the police—”
“I canceled the call. Give me the bottle.”
Mrs. Kesler placed the morphine in his palm. Nathaniel looked at the label, then looked directly at Erin. He saw the sheer, unadulterated terror in her eyes, the way she was shaking so violently she had to grip the stainless-steel counter to stay upright.
“Who searched her locker?” Nathaniel asked the room.
“I did, sir,” Mrs. Kesler replied. “Caroline suggested we check the staff quarters first, given the… tension earlier today.”
Nathaniel’s jaw clenched so hard a muscle jumped visibly beneath his skin. “Caroline suggested it.”
“Yes, sir.”
Nathaniel turned on his heel. “Erin, come with me.”
He didn't wait for her to follow. He marched out of the kitchen, down the long corridor, and bypassed his study entirely, heading straight for the basement. Erin scrambled to keep up, her heart pounding a frantic rhythm in her chest.
He led her into the security control room, a small, windowless space lined with monitors that covered every inch of the estate’s exterior and hallways. The overnight guard jumped up from his chair.
“Pull up the feed for the staff locker hallway,” Nathaniel ordered. “From the last two hours.”
The guard clicked his mouse rapidly. The screen displayed the narrow hallway leading to the employee lockers. For an hour, nothing happened. Then, the footage glitched. The screen went to static for exactly three minutes before returning to normal.
“What happened to the feed?” Nathaniel asked dangerously.
“Looks like a localized network drop, sir,” the guard swallowed hard. “Someone manually disconnected the router in the east wing electrical closet. It created a blind spot.”
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Nathaniel stared at the static on the screen. The trap was so clumsy, so fueled by arrogant desperation, that it was almost insulting.
“She didn’t just frame you,” Nathaniel whispered, his voice dropping into a dark, lethal register. “She proved she is willing to let my mother suffer in agony just to get you out of this house.”
