Chapter 3 - THE SMILE AT DINNER
Vanessa tried the handle twice.
"Why is the door locked?" she asked.
I opened it just enough to step into the hallway.
"Mom's resting."
Vanessa handed me a mug. "Good. She gets dramatic when she's tired."
I took the coffee and smiled.
It was the hardest smile of my life.
"You're probably right."
Her shoulders relaxed.
That was when I understood how I had to play it.
If I accused her now, she would deny everything, destroy documents, move money, and call anyone helping her. I needed proof before she knew I was looking.
Luckily, the house had eyes.
Three years earlier, after a break-in down the block, I installed twelve security cameras. Vanessa hated them. She made me remove the ones in private areas, which I did. But the kitchen, hallways, garage, front porch, backyard, and living room remained covered.
The system stored thirty days locally and one full year in the cloud.
Vanessa believed the cloud subscription had expired.
I had renewed it automatically.
At dinner, she acted like the perfect wife.
She served roast chicken. She poured wine. She touched my hand and asked whether I wanted to take a vacation "after this whole business disaster."
I looked at her.
"Disaster?"
She blinked. "I mean... stress. Whatever happened."
"What do you think happened?"
She lowered her voice. "I know you, Daniel. If the deal had gone well, you would've told me."
I shrugged. "Maybe I was embarrassed."
Her face softened with something that looked almost like satisfaction.
"We can rebuild," she said.
Mom sat at the far end of the table, barely eating.
Vanessa snapped her fingers once.
"Salt."
Mom reached for the shaker automatically.
I saw it.
Vanessa saw that I saw it.
"Evelyn likes to feel useful," she said quickly.
I took the salt myself.
"I'm sure she does."
After dinner, I carried my suitcase to the office instead of our bedroom.
Vanessa leaned in the doorway. "You're sleeping in here?"
"Jet lag. I don't want to keep you awake."
She kissed my forehead. "My poor husband."
When she finally went upstairs, I waited forty minutes.
Then I logged into the camera account.
There were 9,214 motion clips.
I searched the kitchen first.
The third clip I opened showed Vanessa throwing a plate into the sink and shoving Mom hard enough that she hit the counter.
The seventh showed her grabbing Mom's wrist.
The eleventh showed her holding up a bank card.
"This belongs to the household now," Vanessa said on the recording. "You don't get to hide money from me."
I stopped breathing.
Then another voice came from the video.
A man's voice.
"How much longer until Daniel's out of the picture?"
May you like
Vanessa looked toward someone just outside the camera frame.
And she smiled.
