Chapter 4 - ISABELLA’S WARNING
Vincent did not open the flash drive immediately.
That surprised me.
A man like him could probably summon a cybersecurity team faster than I could order pizza.
Instead, he stood in Isabella’s hidden office with the drive resting in his palm as though it weighed twenty pounds.
Lucas and Leo had already been taken back to the west wing.
Only Vincent, Anthony and I remained.
“She left this for me,” Vincent said.
It wasn’t really a question.
“Yes.”
“And I never found it.”
“You didn’t know the room existed.”
“I should have.”
I had started to recognize that sentence.
Every discovery became another weapon Vincent used against himself.
Anthony spoke gently.
“Boss, we need to scan the drive before opening it.”
Vincent nodded.
“Do it.”
Two hours later, we sat inside Vincent’s private study.
The drive contained photographs, invoices, emails and one video.
The video was dated nine days before Isabella’s accident.
Vincent pressed play.
Isabella appeared on screen.
She was beautiful, but not in the polished society-page way I had expected.
Her hair was tied messily behind her head.
She wore a green sweater.
She looked tired.
More importantly, she looked scared.
“Vincent,” she began, “if you’re watching this, it means I either finally found the courage to show you everything or something prevented me from doing it.”
Vincent stopped breathing.
I looked away from him and back at the screen.
“I made a mistake,” Isabella continued. “After the twins were born, I became obsessed with making the house perfect for them. Harrison offered to arrange an experimental environmental system developed through one of his research partners. He said it would reduce allergens, improve sleep and regulate air quality.”
She paused.
“I believed him.”
Vincent whispered, “Jesus.”
“About six months ago, I began having headaches. Then dizziness. I noticed they were worse in the east wing. When I traveled, they improved.”
My skin prickled.
Same pattern.
“I asked Harrison to disable the system. He told me I was imagining the connection. I had independent samples tested.”
She lifted papers toward the camera.
“The results were concerning enough that the laboratory recommended immediate shutdown and further investigation.”
Vincent leaned closer.
“I confronted Harrison. He became angry. He told me I could destroy years of research if I made accusations before he finished evaluating the system.”
Isabella’s eyes filled with tears.
“I told him my children were not research.”
The room went silent.
She continued.
“There is something else. I discovered Harrison’s company has been billing Vincent’s family office through multiple consulting entities. Millions of dollars. Some of the authorizations appear to carry Vincent’s approval, but I don’t believe Vincent signed them.”
Anthony muttered a curse.
Vincent’s face became stone.
“I planned to tell Vincent tonight, but Harrison knows I’m investigating him. If I lose my nerve, I want this recording to remind me why I cannot stay quiet.”
She looked directly into the camera.
“Vincent, if something happens to me, do not let Harrison near the boys.”
The video ended.
Nobody moved.
Vincent replayed the final sentence.
Once.
Twice.
The third time, I reached over and stopped him.
He looked at me.
“Why?”
“Because hearing it ten more times won’t change what happened.”
“My wife warned me.”
“She was trying to warn you.”
“And nine days later she died.”
I understood what he was thinking.
So did Anthony.
“We reopen the accident investigation,” Anthony said.
“Now,” Vincent replied.
He stood abruptly.
“Every financial record connected to Blake. Every property entry. Every employee he hired or recommended. Find everything.”
Anthony left.
Vincent remained standing beside the desk.
“I was in London when Isabella died.”
I didn’t say anything.
“She called me twice the night before the accident.”
His voice cracked.
“I was in a negotiation. I texted her that I’d call after dinner.”
He laughed once without humor.
“I never called.”
“Vincent.”
“She died the next morning.”
“That is terrible.”
“I ignored her.”
“You missed a call.”
“She needed me.”
“You didn’t know that.”
He turned toward me.
“Does that make it better?”
“No.”
The answer surprised him.
I continued.
“But destroying yourself won’t bring her back, and it won’t help Lucas and Leo.”
His eyes hardened.
“You think I don’t know that?”
“I think knowing something and believing it are different.”
For a long moment, he stared at me.
Then his shoulders lowered.
Just slightly.
A knock interrupted us.
An engineer entered.
“We have preliminary findings.”
Vincent immediately became focused.
The man placed a report on the desk.
“We identified residues in the delivery system that do not belong in a normal residential ventilation setup.”
“Dangerous?” Vincent asked.
“We need toxicology specialists to determine exposure implications. I don’t want to speculate.”
“Could it explain chronic symptoms?”
“Possibly. That’s all I can responsibly say right now.”
I appreciated that answer.
No dramatic certainty.
Just evidence.
“What do we do tonight?” I asked.
“Keep the east wing isolated. Increase outside-air exchange in unaffected areas. And I would recommend the children remain elsewhere until we fully understand the system.”
Vincent nodded.
“Pack the house.”
The engineer blinked.
“I’m sorry?”
“We’re leaving.”
Within ninety minutes, security had prepared Vincent’s second property—a smaller home twenty miles away that had been empty for months.
Dr. Blake called repeatedly.
Vincent ignored him.
At eight thirty, as we prepared to leave, Mrs. Harper approached me near the stairs.
“Claire.”
She looked terrified again.
“What?”
“Someone entered my room.”
My stomach dropped.
“Was anything taken?”
“No.”
She handed me a folded piece of paper.
It had been placed on her pillow.
There were only five words.
STOP TALKING ABOUT THE PAST.
I took it directly to Anthony.
Security locked down the house.
Every employee was accounted for.
Except one.
A maintenance supervisor named Eric Sloan.
He had disappeared sometime after lunch.
Anthony pulled his personnel file.
Eric had been hired thirteen months earlier.
Recommended personally by Dr. Harrison Blake.
Security footage showed Eric leaving through a service gate at 4:17 p.m.
He carried a duffel bag.
Twenty minutes later, the camera covering that same gate lost power.
“What was inside the bag?” Vincent demanded.
“No way to know.”
I thought about Isabella’s office.
The disturbed dust.
The open drawers.
“He searched the greenhouse,” I said.
Anthony looked at me.
“Why?”
“Because someone knew Isabella had hidden evidence.”
Vincent’s expression changed.
“If Eric found the office, why didn’t he take the flash drive?”
“Maybe he couldn’t find it.”
“Or,” Anthony said, “he was interrupted.”
My phone vibrated.
Unknown number.
I almost ignored it.
Then a message appeared.
YOU SHOULD HAVE STAYED A NANNY.
A photograph followed.
It had been taken less than an hour earlier.
Lucas and Leo were visible through the west-wing window.
And I was standing behind them.
May you like
Someone had been watching us from outside the estate.
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