Chapter 4 - Eleven Missing Minutes
The private elevator could only be accessed with one of six encrypted key cards.
I had one.
Victor had one.
Dana had one.
Aaron had one.
My driver Sam had one for emergencies.
And Graham Pike had one because he handled household logistics between the estate and my downtown residence.
At seven thirty that night, Aaron sent me the access report.
One card had opened the private elevator fourteen minutes before the photograph reached Tessa's phone.
Graham's.
I called him again.
Voicemail.
I sent security to the carriage house.
His rooms were empty.
Not recently emptied.
Prepared.
His closet still held suits.
His medicine remained in the bathroom.
But his passport was gone.
His personal laptop was gone.
The framed photograph of his daughter was gone.
His black Mercedes was missing from the garage.
Tessa listened from the doorway of my library while Aaron gave me the report.
"So your house manager threatened my brothers?"
"We do not know that."
"His card was used."
"That means his card was used."
She folded her arms.
"You really like that sentence."
"What sentence?"
"We do not know."
I looked at her.
She did not look away.
"That is all I have right now."
"No."
She stepped farther into the room.
"You have money."
"You have cameras."
"You have lawyers."
"You have guards."
"You have a company big enough to lose my mother's entire life inside twelve pages."
Her voice stayed calm, which somehow made every word harsher.
"And you still keep telling me you do not know."
I felt the accusation where it was supposed to land.
"I am trying to know."
"Then stop protecting people because they have worked for you a long time."
"I am not protecting Graham."
"What about Victor?"
The room went still.
Aaron looked at me and then wisely looked back at his tablet.
Tessa continued.
"You told me Victor approved the settlement."
"I told you his signature was on it."
"And your stolen signature came from his office."
"Potentially."
"There is that word again."
"Tessa, if I accuse my CFO of fraud without proof, he will know exactly how much we have."
"Maybe he already knows."
That possibility had been bothering me for hours.
I turned to Aaron.
"Lock down internal access logs."
"Already done."
"Freeze Graham's credentials."
"Done."
"Find his vehicle."
"Chicago police have the plate."
"Do not rely only on them."
Aaron nodded.
I looked back at Tessa.
"There is another issue."
"What?"
"If Graham had access to the master token at the estate, he could have used my authorization years ago."
"So he could have stolen the settlement money."
"Possibly."
She closed her eyes.
I nearly apologized for the word.
Instead, I told Aaron to leave us alone.
When the library doors shut, I opened the bottom drawer of my desk and removed a small black notebook.
Tessa watched me.
"This is every executive authorization exception from that year."
"You keep that by hand?"
"I used to."
"Why?"
"Because I did not trust software."
"That might be the first sensible thing you have said."
I almost smiled.
She did not.
I flipped through the pages.
The settlement date was November 18.
There was no authorization exception recorded.
That meant I had never been notified that my token had been used.
I showed her.
"What does that prove?"
"That whoever used my authorization bypassed the notification system."
"Could Graham do that?"
"Not alone."
"Victor?"
"Yes."
The answer sat between us.
Tessa's phone rang.
This time she flinched before looking.
It was an unknown number.
She turned the screen toward me.
"Answer it," I said.
"No."
"Put it on speaker."
"No."
"Tessa."
"I am not letting you decide how I speak to someone who is threatening my family."
I stopped.
She was right again.
She answered and held the phone to her ear.
"Hello?"
Nothing.
Her face changed.
"Dad?"
I stood.
Tessa turned away from me.
"Dad, is that you?"
A faint voice came through the phone.
I could not make out the words.
Tessa could.
Her knees seemed to weaken.
She grabbed the edge of the desk.
"Where are you?"
Another faint response.
"No."
"Do not hang up."
"Please."
Then the line went dead.
She stared at the screen.
"What did he say?" I asked.
Her eyes were wet.
"He said we have to leave your house tonight."
"Why?"
"He said they know the boys are here."
"Who are they?"
"He would not say."
"What else?"
She looked at me.
"He said Graham is not the one I should be afraid of."
My pulse slowed in that dangerous way it always did when something became serious enough to require absolute focus.
"Did he name anyone?"
"No."
"Did he say where he is?"
"No."
"Did he mention Victor?"
"No."
She rubbed both hands over her face.
"He kept saying he was sorry."
"For leaving?"
"For making a deal."
I stared at her.
"What deal?"
"I do not know."
I called Aaron back into the room.
He traced the call as far as he could.
The number was prepaid.
The tower location placed it near Kenosha, Wisconsin.
That was not much.
It was more than we had before.
I ordered a car ready for first light.
Tessa shook her head.
"You are not going."
"I am."
"That was not a request."
"Neither was mine."
She stared at me.
For the first time since I had met her, something close to reluctant respect flickered across her face.
Then Noah screamed from the gatehouse.
We ran.
Tessa reached the door first.
It was unlocked.
She had locked it ten minutes earlier.
Inside, the kitchen chairs were overturned.
Cabinets stood open.
One of the grocery bags had been dumped onto the floor.
Eli was holding Noah behind him with a fireplace poker in both hands.
No one else was inside.
Tessa rushed to them.
"Are you hurt?"
"No," Eli said.
"Did you see anyone?"
"No."
"Did you open the door?"
"No."
Aaron's guards swept the rooms.
The bedrooms were clear.
The back window was locked.
The bathroom window was locked.
No glass was broken.
No alarm had sounded.
Someone had entered with a key.
Then Eli pointed toward the kitchen table.
"They left that."
A red spiral notebook lay in the center.
Tessa stopped breathing.
I knew before she touched it.
"Is that your mother's?"
She nodded.
Her hand trembled as she opened the cover.
The first page had been torn out.
The next seven pages were blank.
Then came a list of names, dates, and dollar amounts written in blue ink.
Tessa turned pages faster.
Most of it meant nothing to me.
Employee numbers.
Vendor codes.
Initials.
Amounts circled twice.
Then she reached the final page.
There was one sentence written in her mother's handwriting.
Tessa read it aloud.
"If they tell you Zo Rossi signed it, look at the time."
Below the sentence was a date.
November 18.
The same date as the false settlement.
And beneath the date was a time.
9:18 p.m.
Tessa looked at me.
"That is when your token was used."
"Yes."
She turned the notebook over.
Something had been taped inside the back cover.
Only the torn edge of clear tape remained.
Whatever her mother had hidden there was gone.
Then Aaron called from outside.
"Mr. Rossi."
His voice had changed.
I stepped onto the porch.
He pointed toward the security camera above the gatehouse door.
"The camera was disabled."
"For how long?"
"Eleven minutes."
"When?"
"Starting at nine oh seven."
My stomach tightened.
The intrusion had happened while Tessa and I were in the library.
Inside a property with armed security.
Inside a house with controlled gates.
Inside a camera network only a few people could access.
Aaron looked at me.
"There is one more thing."
"What?"
"The camera was not hacked remotely."
"How was it disabled?"
"Someone logged into the security room in the main house."
I stared at him.
The security room required biometric access.
Only two people had active authorization.
May you like
Aaron Blake.
And me.
