Chapter 10 - THE MISSING CAMERA
Deputy Barnes found fresh tire tracks near the side road but no vehicle.
He called in the plate description from a neighbor’s security camera.
The image was blurred by darkness and rain.
The vehicle appeared to be a black sedan.
That described half the cars Nathan’s family owned.
I stood in my father’s kitchen while Barnes dusted the back door for fingerprints.
My body felt heavy with exhaustion.
The baby had been active during the drive, but now the movements felt softer.
I drank cold water and waited.
A small kick came beneath my ribs.
I closed my eyes with relief.
Olivia sat across from me.
“Tomorrow you need rest.”
“I will rest when people stop breaking into rooms I am standing in.”
She almost smiled.
“Fair.”
Barnes returned with a plastic evidence bag.
He had found a partial print on the interior door frame.
It would take time to identify.
More importantly, the neighbor’s camera showed the sedan had arrived twenty minutes before us.
Someone had been waiting.
“They knew we were coming,” Olivia said.
I thought about who knew.
Ruiz.
Robert.
The forensic firm.
The sheriff’s office.
And whoever was monitoring my phone or accounts.
Olivia immediately checked my device for tracking applications.
Nothing obvious appeared.
Then she asked a better question.
“Who owns your cellular plan?”
My stomach sank.
“Nathan’s company account.”
She swore softly.
A corporate administrator could potentially see location services, billing details, and device management information.
We powered off my phone.
Barnes arranged for a patrol car to escort us to a hotel rather than letting us drive back to the city that night.
In the hotel room, I used Olivia’s phone to call Robert.
I did not tell him where we were.
He had news too.
The board had rejected his forged resignation after Olivia threatened immediate litigation.
Paul’s acting authority had been suspended.
Nathan had been removed as interim treasurer.
But neither man had returned company devices.
Both were now unreachable.
“What about Margaret?”
“She is at the house.”
“My house.”
Robert paused.
“Yes.”
The correction mattered.
“Is she alone?”
“I don’t know.”
“Then find out.”
He promised he would.
Before ending the call, he told me police had located Paul’s personal phone abandoned near the airport.
The device had been wiped.
Nathan’s phone was still active but moving south on the interstate.
I asked if police were following him.
Robert did not know.
I barely slept.
At dawn, Olivia contacted the county impound service that had handled my father’s wrecked car five years earlier.
The original towing company had closed.
Its records had been transferred to another operator.
A clerk searched old storage files for almost an hour.
Then she found the inventory.
My father’s vehicle had contained a wallet, briefcase, jacket, sunglasses, two phones, and a dashboard camera.
My pulse jumped.
“What happened to the camera?”
The clerk read further.
It had been released with personal property three days after the accident.
“To whom?”
There was a pause.
“Nathan Hayes.”
I stopped breathing.
“Why?”
“He signed as family representative.”
Olivia asked for a copy of the release form.
The clerk emailed it within minutes.
Nathan’s signature was at the bottom.
This one looked real.
I remembered those first days after Dad died.
I had barely been able to get out of bed.
Nathan handled everything.
He collected my father’s belongings.
He brought me the wallet and briefcase.
He gave me the phones.
He never mentioned a dash camera.
“Where would he put it?” Olivia asked.
I thought about every storage space in our home.
The garage.
The basement.
Nathan’s office.
Then I remembered something strange.
A month after Dad’s funeral, Nathan bought a safe-deposit box.
He told me it was for backup copies of our estate documents.
I never saw the box.
I did not know which bank held it.
Olivia called her investigator.
By noon, he found a payment to Central Plains Bank on one of Nathan’s old personal statements.
There was a branch six blocks from his office.
We drove there after I replaced my phone with a new device under my own account.
The bank manager would not tell us whether Nathan had a box without legal process.
Olivia expected that.
She filed an emergency preservation request and contacted Ruiz.
While we waited in the lobby, I saw a familiar woman walk through the front doors.
Margaret.
She stopped when she saw me.
For one second, neither of us moved.
Then she smiled.
“You look tired.”
I stared at her.
“How did you know I was here?”
“I didn’t.”
The answer came too quickly.
Olivia stood beside me.
“Mrs. Hayes, do not speak to my client.”
Margaret ignored her.
“I came for my own box.”
“Of course you did.”
Her eyes dropped to my stomach.
“You should be resting.”
The fake concern was worse than the slap.
“You should be worried.”
Her smile faded.
“About what?”
“My father’s dash camera.”
The color vanished from her face.
It lasted less than a second.
But I saw it.
So did Olivia.
Margaret recovered quickly.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Then she walked toward the private banking desk.
Olivia followed at a distance.
I remained in the lobby.
Ten minutes later, two detectives entered.
Ruiz was one of them.
He spoke privately with the bank manager.
Then he approached Margaret.
She became furious.
“You cannot stop me from accessing my own property.”
Ruiz remained calm.
“We can preserve material relevant to an active investigation.”
Margaret turned toward me.
“This is what you wanted, isn’t it?”
I did not answer.
The bank manager returned with records.
Nathan did have a box.
So did Margaret.
Their boxes had been opened on the same three dates over the previous five years.
The first date was three days after my father’s death.
The second was the week the forged power of attorney appeared.
The third was that morning.
I felt cold.
Ruiz obtained consent from the bank to preserve access logs and security footage while he sought a warrant.
Margaret was escorted outside.
As she passed me, she leaned close enough that only I could hear.
“You think David was protecting you.”
I looked at her.
“He was protecting himself.”
Then she walked away.
The words stayed with me all afternoon.
By six, Ruiz called.
A judge had signed the warrant.
Police opened Nathan’s box.
Inside was the missing dash camera.
But the memory card slot was empty.
Margaret’s box contained the memory card.
And taped to it was a handwritten label.
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DAVID - FINAL DRIVE.
