Chapter 8 - THE MISSING EVIDENCE
Our mother had been dead for seven years.
The message made no sense.
Unless it was meant to send me toward something she left behind.
I searched our childhood home records.
After our parents died, Jonah convinced Chloe to sell the house quickly.
The buyer was a corporation connected to Linda.
The property had never changed hands again.
It remained empty.
Detective Ellison obtained a search warrant based on the financial investigation.
We entered the house just after midnight.
Dust covered the furniture.
The walls still held faint rectangles where family photographs had hung.
Chloe’s old bedroom remained untouched.
My mother’s sewing room had been stripped bare.
I remembered the red metal box she used for receipts.
It always sat beneath the window.
Gone.
We searched closets, vents, attic boards, and the crawlspace.
Nothing.
Then I noticed a scratch on the baseboard behind my father’s desk.
A tiny K.
My father marked hidden compartments with our initials when we were children.
K for Karina.
I pried the board loose.
Behind it was a sealed envelope and a small memory card.
The envelope was addressed to me.
Karina, if you are reading this, we failed to protect Chloe.
My hands shook.
The letter explained that my father discovered someone accessing the family trust years before his death.
He suspected George Weller.
My mother believed the theft was connected to Chloe’s future marriage.
They placed hidden cameras inside the house and created backup financial records.
Then my father’s car crashed.
Six months later, my mother died after what doctors called an accidental overdose.
I read the final sentence twice.
Do not trust anyone who says your mother took her own medication.
Ellison looked at me.
“Your parents may have been murdered.”
I inserted the memory card into her laptop.
Most files opened normally.
Bank statements.
Trust documents.
Emails between Weller and an unknown person using the initials L.M.
Linda Miller.
Then we opened the camera folder.
The final video showed my mother in the kitchen.
Linda stood across from her.
They were younger, but unmistakable.
Linda said, “Your daughter will marry my son.”
My mother answered, “Chloe barely knows him.”
“She will.”
“You’re insane.”
Linda smiled.
“No. I’m patient.”
The footage skipped.
Jonah entered through the back door.
He was twenty-four.
Already angry.
Already controlled by his mother.
Linda handed him a folder.
“Everything is arranged. The accident, the treatment, the dependency. She’ll need someone strong.”
My mother stepped backward.
“You stay away from my girls.”
Jonah grabbed her arm.
The video cut out.
A message appeared on the screen.
FILE CORRUPTED.
Then every file disappeared.
The laptop went black.
Ellison swore.
“Remote wipe.”
Someone had accessed the device through the house network.
A floorboard creaked above us.
We both looked toward the staircase.
The ceiling light flickered.
A shadow moved across the upstairs landing.
Ellison drew her weapon.
“Police. Show your hands.”
No answer.
We climbed slowly.
The bedroom door at the end of the hallway was open.
Inside, the window moved in the storm.
A figure had already escaped.
On the bed lay George Weller’s severed wristwatch.
May you like
Beside it was a note.
YOU HAVE SIX HOURS TO RETURN THE PHONE.
