Chapter 3 - The Ghost in the Footage
I sat in my idling truck in the hospital parking garage, the glow of my smartphone illuminating the dark cab. I rewound the security footage for the fiftieth time. The camera was angled from the kitchen corner, capturing the dining room in a wide shot.
At 6:14 PM, everyone had migrated to the living room for appetizers. Everyone except one.
A figure slipped back into the dining frame. The face was obscured by the autumn leaf garlands hanging from the ceiling. But the arm—the arm reached out, hovering over the pitcher of apple cider. A small, quick motion. A splash.
May you like
I paused the video and zoomed in until the pixels blurred. The figure was wearing a dark sleeve. A suit jacket or a dark cardigan. But on the wrist, a glint of metal caught the light. A heavy, gold Rolex.
Marcus. Clara’s arrogant business partner. He had worn a gold Rolex that night, boasting about his recent bonus. But why would Marcus want my family dead? Clara was the brain of their tech startup. Without her, the company would tank. Unless she had found out something that was already tanking it. I put the truck in drive. It was time to pay Marcus a visit.
