Chapter 2 - The Missing Eleven Minutes
Vincent found the first problem with the security footage at 8:43 p.m.
Eleven minutes were missing.
Dominic sat behind the desk in his private study while three monitors displayed camera feeds from the rehabilitation wing.
Clare and Ellie were upstairs in a guest suite with two female staff members Dominic trusted. Clare had protested until Dominic explained that whoever had tampered with his brace might realize Ellie had seen something.
That ended the argument.
Vincent stood beside the monitors.
“Camera twelve runs continuously.”
“Usually?”
“Always.”
“And yesterday?”
Vincent tapped the screen.
“4:16 p.m. to 4:27 p.m. Nothing.”
“System failure?”
“No.”
“How do you know?”
“Other cameras stayed online.”
Dominic leaned back.
His leg felt different.
Not healed.
Not painless.
But different.
For weeks he had assumed every new ache meant his body was failing him.
Now he wondered how much of that suffering had been manufactured.
Dr. Mercer stood near the fireplace.
“I want imaging done tonight.”
Dominic looked at him.
“Why?”
“If the brace has repeatedly compressed the nerve, I need to know whether there’s additional damage.”
“Repeatedly?”
Mercer hesitated.
Dominic caught it.
“You think this happened more than once.”
“I think we should consider the possibility.”
Vincent turned.
“How many people have access to the brace?”
“Dominic. Myself. Two physical therapists. Three rehabilitation technicians.”
“And Arthur Voss?”
“No medical reason.”
“That wasn’t my question.”
Mercer exhaled.
“The rehabilitation wing isn’t restricted from senior household guests.”
Dominic’s phone vibrated.
Arthur.
He ignored it.
A second message arrived.
Then a third.
Vincent glanced at him.
“What’s he saying?”
Dominic read the screen.
Council members are leaving.
You are making yourself look unstable.
Call me before this becomes embarrassing.
Dominic placed the phone facedown.
“Pull access records.”
Vincent nodded.
“Already doing it.”
There was a knock.
One of Vincent’s security officers entered carrying a small plastic evidence bag.
“Found this behind the rehabilitation cabinet.”
Inside was a tiny screwdriver.
Mercer frowned.
“That isn’t ours.”
Dominic looked at Vincent.
“Prints?”
“We’ll handle it properly.”
“Good.”
Another knock.
This time Clare stood in the doorway.
“I’m sorry.”
Dominic motioned her inside.
“What happened?”
“Ellie won’t sleep.”
“That’s understandable.”
“She says she needs to tell you something.”
Dominic looked at Vincent.
“Bring her.”
Minutes later Ellie entered wearing borrowed pajamas, clutching her wooden latch board.
She climbed onto the sofa beside her mother.
Dominic remained behind the desk to avoid intimidating her.
“What did you remember?”
Ellie stared at her toy.
“The man wasn’t alone.”
Vincent’s attention sharpened.
“Who else?”
“A lady.”
“What lady?”
Ellie shrugged.
“White shoes.”
Clare frowned.
“White shoes?”
“She had squeaky ones.”
Mercer went still.
Dominic noticed.
“Samuel?”
The doctor looked uncomfortable.
“Medical shoes.”
“Who wears them?”
“Half the rehabilitation staff.”
Vincent crouched several feet from Ellie.
“Can you remember anything else?”
Ellie nodded.
“She said he shouldn’t do it.”
Dominic’s eyes narrowed.
“What did the man say?”
Ellie squeezed the toy.
“He said…”
She struggled to remember.
Clare rubbed her back.
“It’s okay.”
Ellie finally whispered, “Just enough.”
Nobody moved.
Dominic felt cold.
“Just enough for what?”
Ellie shook her head.
“That’s all.”
Vincent stood.
Dominic looked at him.
“Find the woman.”
At 9:17, Vincent returned with personnel photographs.
Ellie examined them one at a time.
She rejected the first.
Then the second.
At the fifth photograph, she stopped.
Angela Pierce.
Physical therapist.
Thirty-four.
Employed eight months.
Ellie touched the photograph.
“Squeaky shoes.”
Mercer cursed quietly.
Dominic looked at him.
“Where is she?”
“She left at five.”
Vincent was already making the call.
Nobody answered.
A security team drove to Angela’s apartment.
Empty.
Her car remained in the parking garage.
Her phone was on the kitchen counter.
Her purse was inside.
But Angela was gone.
At 10:02, Vincent uncovered something else.
Arthur Voss had entered the rehabilitation wing yesterday at 4:14 p.m.
He left at 4:31.
Exactly across the missing footage.
Dominic stared at the access log.
“Arthur knows these records exist.”
“Yes.”
“So either he doesn’t care…”
“Or he thought they’d be erased too.”
Dominic looked toward the rain-dark windows.
“Who controls security archives?”
Vincent’s face tightened.
“My department.”
“Who besides you?”
“Four supervisors.”
“Investigate all four.”
Vincent didn’t object.
That was why Dominic trusted him.
A weaker man would have taken the order personally.
At 10:30, Dominic called Arthur.
Arthur answered immediately.
“Finally.”
“Come back.”
A pause.
“I’m home.”
“Then leave home.”
“Why?”
“You wanted a vote.”
“Tomorrow.”
“Tonight.”
Arthur became quiet.
“You’re feeling better?”
“Much.”
Another pause.
“I’ll be there in thirty minutes.”
The call ended.
Vincent stared at Dominic.
“You’re bringing him here?”
“I want to see his face.”
Twenty-eight minutes later Arthur walked into the study.
He wore the same gray suit.
No coat despite the rain.
He saw Mercer.
Then Vincent.
Then Dominic’s brace.
“You’ve turned this into quite a production.”
Dominic gestured toward a chair.
Arthur sat.
Dominic placed the access log on the desk.
“You visited rehabilitation yesterday.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“To see you.”
“I wasn’t there.”
“I discovered that.”
“What did you do for seventeen minutes?”
Arthur smiled.
“Is this an interrogation?”
“No.”
“Sounds like one.”
“An interrogation would have more people.”
Arthur’s smile faded.
“I spoke to Angela.”
“About?”
“Your condition.”
“Why?”
“Because tomorrow’s vote depended on your condition.”
Dominic leaned forward.
“Yesterday’s vote.”
Arthur corrected himself immediately.
“Yesterday’s scheduled vote.”
“Did you touch my brace?”
“No.”
“Did Angela?”
“She’s a physical therapist. I assume she touches braces.”
“Where is she?”
Arthur frowned.
“How would I know?”
Dominic studied him.
Arthur was good.
Too good.
Then Ellie appeared at the doorway.
Clare was behind her.
“I’m sorry,” Clare whispered. “She heard voices.”
Arthur turned.
For half a second, something crossed his face.
Recognition.
Ellie saw him.
Her expression changed too.
She moved behind Clare.
Arthur recovered.
“Is that the child?”
Dominic watched him carefully.
“What child?”
“The one who caused all this.”
Again, too much knowledge.
Dominic had never told Arthur that Ellie discovered the problem.
Arthur realized his mistake.
Vincent realized it too.
The room became silent.
Arthur stood.
“This is absurd.”
Dominic remained seated.
“I agree.”
“You’re going to trust a four-year-old over me?”
“I trust evidence.”
“You have none.”
Dominic tapped the access log.
Arthur laughed.
“I visited a room in a house I’ve entered for twenty years.”
“During eleven minutes of deleted security footage.”
Arthur’s face changed.
Only slightly.
But enough.
“I don’t know anything about deleted footage.”
“I never said it was deleted.”
Arthur stared at him.
Dominic stood carefully.
For once, the brace didn’t bite into his calf.
He stepped around the desk.
Arthur’s eyes dropped toward his leg.
Dominic saw it.
“You look disappointed.”
Arthur scoffed.
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
Dominic walked another step.
Then another.
Arthur backed toward the door.
“Tomorrow morning,” Dominic said, “we’re going to hold your vote.”
Arthur smiled again.
“Good.”
“But first, every member of the council will see the medical report.”
“What report?”
“The one explaining why my condition suddenly worsened.”
Arthur’s smile vanished.
Vincent’s phone rang.
He answered.
His expression changed.
“When?”
He listened.
“Keep everyone away from it.”
Dominic looked at him.
Vincent ended the call.
“They found Angela.”
“Where?”
“North garage.”
Arthur’s face went pale.
Dominic noticed.
Vincent continued.
“She’s alive.”
Mercer moved immediately.
“Condition?”
“Scared. Dehydrated. No serious visible injuries.”
“Where was she?”
Vincent stared directly at Arthur.
“Locked inside a maintenance room.”
Arthur stood perfectly still.
Dominic stepped closer.
“Interesting.”
Arthur shook his head.
“You think I did that?”
“I think Angela can tell us.”
Vincent’s phone rang again.
He answered.
This time he listened longer.
Then he looked at Dominic.
“There’s something else.”
“What?”
“Angela keeps saying she didn’t reverse the brace.”
Arthur exhaled almost imperceptibly.
But Vincent wasn’t finished.
“She says someone forced her to give them access.”
Dominic looked at Arthur.
“Who?”
Vincent’s expression darkened.
“She won’t say over the phone.”
“Why?”
“Because she says the person who did it has access to every room in this house.”
Dominic felt the meaning immediately.
This wasn’t merely an attack from Arthur’s faction.
Someone inside Dominic’s home had helped them.
Someone trusted.
May you like
Someone close enough to walk through locked doors without raising suspicion.
And upstairs, four-year-old Ellie Rowan was sleeping beneath the same roof.
