Chapter 3 - THE FOOTAGE HE TRIED TO ERASE

Celeste stayed at my computer for exactly ninety-two seconds.

I counted because there was nothing else I could do from the back seat of Abigail’s SUV.

She kept glancing toward the door.

Her confidence from the jewelry store had vanished.

She was not browsing.

She was searching for something specific.

Then she removed the drive, wiped the keyboard with the edge of her dress, and left the room.

Abigail stared at the screen.

“Your computer is encrypted?”

“Yes.”

“Password?”

“Biometric plus code.”

“Then how did she get in?”

I zoomed in.

The monitor was too far from the camera to read.

“I don’t know.”

That answer disturbed me more than it should have.

Nathan knew my old password habits.

He did not know my current code.

I had changed it six weeks earlier, the night I first saw a hotel charge on his business card that did not make sense.

Abigail closed the laptop.

“We’re getting the machine imaged before you touch it.”

“We can’t go in while they’re there.”

“No.”

She checked her watch.

“But we can go somewhere else.”

The jewelry store manager was named Peter Sloan.

He had managed Mercer Luxe’s flagship for four years.

He had sent flowers when my mother died.

He had once called me at midnight because a custom bride had changed her ring size before a morning flight.

I trusted him.

That made what happened next hurt more.

We met him at a coffee shop two blocks from the store.

He arrived fifteen minutes late and looked like he had aged five years since noon.

He did not sit.

“Mrs. Mercer, I’m sorry.”

“Emma.”

He swallowed.

“Emma.”

Abigail placed her phone on the table and activated a recording app.

“With your permission, Mr. Sloan.”

He nodded quickly.

“I saw what happened,” he said.

“So did everyone,” I answered.

His eyes dropped.

“Yes.”

“Were the cameras off?”

He looked at me.

“They were after.”

My pulse changed.

“After what?”

“After the incident.”

“How long after?”

“Two minutes.”

Abigail leaned forward.

“Who ordered that?”

Peter closed his eyes.

“Mr. Mercer.”

“Did he order deletion?”

“He told our security administrator to purge all footage from noon to three.”

I felt no surprise.

Only confirmation.

“Did he?” I asked.

Peter’s face became pale.

“Yes.”

Abigail’s voice stayed calm.

“Did you preserve a copy?”

Peter looked toward the window.

“No.”

I stared at him.

“Peter.”

“I couldn’t.”

“You couldn’t or you wouldn’t?”

He finally sat down.

“My daughter has leukemia.”

The anger left my mouth before it could become words.

Peter rubbed both hands over his face.

“Her treatment is through the Mercer executive health plan.”

“Nathan threatened it,” Abigail said.

Peter nodded.

“He said if the footage left the building, I would be fired for cause before the end of the day.”

I looked at my empty ring finger.

Nathan had learned how to weaponize everything that looked like generosity.

Jobs.

Insurance.

Loyalty.

Marriage.

“Did anyone else copy it?” I asked.

Peter hesitated.

Then he looked directly at me.

“The system doesn’t only record locally.”

Abigail went still.

“What do you mean?”

“We changed insurers last year.”

“I know.”

“The underwriter required a thirty-day off-site security archive because of the diamond inventory.”

I felt my breath catch.

Nathan had complained about that policy for weeks.

I had forgotten why.

“Where is the archive?” Abigail asked.

“Third-party cloud vendor.”

“Can Nathan delete it?”

“Not without two-factor approval from the loss-prevention officer.”

“Who is that?”

Peter looked at me.

“You.”

I almost thought I had misheard him.

“What?”

“Your name was never removed.”

A memory came back.

Four years earlier, when we opened the flagship, Nathan had asked me to sign insurance documents because he was in Paris.

The loss-prevention role had been temporary.

Apparently, temporary had survived longer than our marriage.

Abigail picked up her phone.

“We need the vendor details now.”

Peter slid a folded paper across the table.

“I already printed them.”

I looked at him.

“You said you didn’t preserve a copy.”

“I didn’t.”

He swallowed.

“But someone else might have.”

The young sales associate from the entrance entered the coffee shop.

She wore a gray coat over her store uniform.

Her hands shook when she approached.

“Mrs. Mercer?”

“Emma.”

“I’m Kayla.”

She sat beside Peter.

“I gave you the receipt.”

“I know.”

Her eyes filled with tears.

“I’m sorry I didn’t help you when he hit you.”

“You helped me after.”

She shook her head.

“I should have done more.”

Abigail spoke gently.

“What did you preserve?”

Kayla opened her phone.

“I filmed part of it.”

I stared at the screen.

“Why?”

“Because Mr. Mercer had been yelling before you came in.”

“At who?”

Kayla looked at Peter.

Then at me.

“Ms. Arden.”

Celeste.

My chest tightened.

“What were they arguing about?”

“I couldn’t hear all of it.”

“Tell me what you heard.”

Kayla unlocked a video.

The image shook slightly.

Nathan stood beside the bridal display.

Celeste faced him.

Her champagne dress glittered beneath the lights.

I heard Nathan’s voice.

“You said the transfer was done.”

Celeste replied sharply.

“It is done.”

“Then why is Hawthorne still on the cap table?”

My blood went cold.

Celeste stepped closer to him in the video.

“Because the filing hasn’t updated.”

Nathan looked over his shoulder.

“No mistakes, Celeste.”

“There aren’t any.”

Then her voice dropped.

“You’ll have control before Emma knows what happened.”

The video ended.

No one at the table spoke.

Abigail slowly looked at me.

“They are trying to move Hawthorne’s shares.”

“They can’t.”

“Not legally.”

Kayla looked confused.

“Who is Hawthorne?”

I stared at Nathan’s frozen face on her phone.

“Hawthorne is me.”

Peter inhaled sharply.

Kayla blinked.

Abigail gave me a warning look.

It was too late to take the words back.

Maybe I did not want to.

For five years, Nathan had treated me like a decoration beside his success.

He did not know that the silent investor he feared most was his wife.

My phone vibrated.

A security alert appeared.

SAFE DEPOSIT STORAGE UNIT ACCESS REQUESTED.

My heart stopped for one beat.

The Lake Forest storage unit used an old security system linked to my phone.

Only one person besides me had ever known the facility existed.

My mother’s former attorney.

He had been dead for two years.

Abigail saw my face.

“What?”

I turned the screen toward her.

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Someone was at the storage facility.

Someone had found the ledger.