Chapter 3 - Vanessa’s Office
I did not storm upstairs.
Vanessa seemed disappointed by that.
“I assume you’re planning to search my room now.”
“No.”
Her eyebrows rose.
“It’s your private space. Marcus will preserve network records. Anything else goes through proper channels.”
She had expected rage.
That realization stayed with me.
Why?
Sophie remained downstairs with Laura and my sister, Eleanor, who arrived after my call.
Vanessa contacted an attorney.
Then she surprised me.
“You can look.”
Her attorney apparently advised her that voluntary access might help her.
Marcus documented her consent before entering.
The guest suite looked immaculate.
Laptop.
Desk.
Closet.
Nothing resembling a punishment room.
But the network access had originated there.
Marcus found the explanation beneath Vanessa’s desk.
A small wireless bridge had been attached behind the power strip.
It could route traffic through the room without Vanessa actively using it.
“Someone wanted activity to look like it came from here,” Marcus said.
Vanessa stared at me.
“I told you.”
She was right about that.
It did not explain Sophie’s fear.
Nor the hair on the table.
Nor the mark on her arm.
“Did you grab Sophie today?”
Vanessa’s jaw tightened.
“I grabbed her arm because she almost fell.”
“And her hair?”
“No.”
Sophie began crying downstairs.
Vanessa flinched.
For one strange second, I saw something other than arrogance.
Fear.
Not fear of me.
Fear of whatever Sophie might say.
Marcus examined the bridge.
Its serial number matched equipment issued to Aaron Pike.
The missing technician.
We found Aaron forty minutes later.
Not hiding.
He was in a hospital emergency department after a traffic collision that morning.
He had been there since 10:22 a.m.
He couldn’t have remotely accessed the camera at 3:06 unless someone had his credentials.
When Marcus reached him by phone, Aaron sounded confused.
“I installed that bridge.”
My stomach tightened.
“Why?”
“Work order.”
“From whom?”
“Your office.”
“I never authorized it.”
Aaron searched his email.
The request had come from an address resembling my executive assistant’s account.
One letter was different.
A spoofed address.
The installation wasn’t part of my security system.
Someone had impersonated my office to place surveillance inside my home months before Vanessa moved in.
Then Aaron remembered something.
“The person who met me at the house said you wanted the living room monitored before your fiancée moved in.”
“What person?”
“Your family attorney.”
I stopped breathing.
“Jonathan Pierce?”
“No.”
Aaron sounded certain.
“The woman.”
My eyes went to Eleanor.
She was standing in the doorway.
May you like
And suddenly nobody in the room was looking at Vanessa anymore.
📖 The surveillance had been installed before Vanessa moved in, and the woman who authorized it had used my own family’s name to enter my house. 👇
