Chapter 5 - WHAT MY MOTHER FOUNDThe fire lasted nine minutes.
The investigation lasted much longer.
Security footage showed a man wearing a maintenance uniform entering the thirty-second floor twelve minutes before the alarm.
He disappeared through a service stairwell afterward.
Victor claimed he had never seen him before.
Police found the stolen estate file abandoned three floors down.
Nothing appeared missing.
Elias didn’t believe that.
Neither did I.
Detective Ramirez met us outside.
When I showed him the threatening messages, he immediately took my phone.
“From now on,” he said, “you don’t go anywhere alone.”
“I’m twenty-two, Detective.”
“And somebody murdered both your parents.”
That ended the argument.
By evening, the story about Dad’s will had leaked.
Tyler helped.
He posted another video.
This time, he sat in Dad’s old study and accused me of exploiting two deaths for money.
“My mom is grieving,” he told his followers. “Nora’s lawyers are trying to throw us out of our home.”
Comments were divided.
Until someone uploaded footage Tyler had accidentally included in an earlier livestream.
In the background, Celeste could be heard saying:
“Point the camera lower. I want her face when she realizes the ashes are gone.”
The internet changed sides within an hour.
Tyler deleted his accounts.
It was too late.
The original video spread everywhere.
But public sympathy wasn’t what I wanted.
I wanted my parents back.
And since I couldn’t have that, I wanted the truth.
Detective Ramirez obtained the full contents of Mom’s vehicle.
Among them was a notebook.
I recognized it before he even placed it on the table.
Mom used yellow legal pads for everything.
Grocery lists.
Work schedules.
Birthday plans.
And apparently investigations.
Her notes were organized in neat blocks.
Dates.
Transfer amounts.
Company names.
At the top of one page:
Daniel is right. C + V moving funds through subsidiaries.
C plus V.
Celeste and Victor.
Below that:
But missing money isn’t the real problem. Ask Daniel about Harrow account.
Ramirez pointed.
“Do you know Harrow?”
“No.”
Elias did.
His reaction told me before he spoke.
“Harrow Development Group.”
“What is it?”
“A client of Daniel’s forensic division.”
Ramirez leaned forward.
“What kind of client?”
“They hired Bennett Strategic Holdings to investigate internal embezzlement.”
“When?”
Elias thought.
“Maybe two years ago.”
I turned pages.
Mom had written:
Harrow settlement: 14.8M. Daniel discovered reporting discrepancy. Victor said client resolved it privately. Daniel doesn’t believe him.
Then:
Celeste deposits begin six weeks later.
My skin prickled.
“They weren’t stealing from Dad.”
Elias nodded slowly.
“Possibly not.”
“They were stealing money connected to a client.”
Ramirez said, “Or being paid.”
The room fell silent.
Paid.
The word changed everything.
Dad might not have discovered ordinary embezzlement.
He might have discovered bribery.
“What did Harrow do?” I asked.
Elias opened his laptop.
He searched archived files.
“Harrow was under investigation for falsifying construction safety reports.”
My stomach turned.
“How serious?”
“Very.”
A news article appeared.
An apartment complex had suffered a partial structural collapse three years earlier.
Nobody died.
Several people were injured.
Harrow owned the development.
Dad’s firm had been hired by investors afterward.
The official conclusion blamed a subcontractor.
But Mom’s notes suggested Dad didn’t believe the official conclusion.
Ramirez took down the company information.
“We’ll request records.”
My phone rang.
Maya.
I had ignored six calls from her.
I finally answered.
“Nora?”
Her voice cracked.
“Where are you?”
“With the police.”
“Oh my God. I saw the video.”
“I’m okay.”
“You’re obviously not okay.”
Fair.
“Can I come get you?”
I looked at Ramirez.
He nodded.
An hour later, Maya arrived at the station and hugged me so hard I nearly broke.
She didn’t ask about money.
Or the house.
Or the key.
She just held me.
That night, I slept at her apartment.
At three in the morning, I woke to breaking glass.
Maya sat up.
“What was that?”
Another sound.
Living-room window.
I reached for my phone.
Before I could dial, headlights swept across the blinds.
A car accelerated away.
Maya turned on the light.
A brick lay on the living-room floor.
Something had been tied around it.
A photograph.
My parents.
Taken outside Dad’s office the night they died.
Someone had been watching them.
On the back:
THEY SHOULD HAVE STOPPED.
Maya whispered, “Nora…”
I called Ramirez.
Police arrived within minutes.
The photograph went into evidence.
Then Ramirez asked the question that changed the direction of everything.
“Where was this picture taken from?”
I stared at it.
Across the street from Dad’s office was a parking garage.
Security cameras.
Ramirez was already moving.
By sunrise, police had obtained archived footage.
The camera didn’t capture the murders directly.
But it captured the street beforehand.
At 7:31 p.m., Mom arrived.
7:39, Dad.
7:56, a black SUV pulled into the alley.
8:02, Dad and Mom left the building together.
8:04, another vehicle entered frame.
A silver Mercedes.
Ramirez paused the video.
My heart stopped.
I knew that car.
Celeste drove it.
But she wasn’t behind the wheel.
Victor was.
He parked half a block away.
Another person sat beside him.
A blonde woman.
Celeste.
Ramirez looked at me.
“They were there.”
The footage continued.
At 8:11, both vehicles left rapidly.
Emergency services were called at 8:14.
My hands began shaking.
“They watched my parents die.”
“Maybe,” Ramirez said.
“Or they did more than watch.”
He zoomed in.
Celeste got out of the passenger side before leaving.
She walked toward a dumpster.
Dropped something inside.
Police searched archived evidence logs.
The dumpster had been emptied the next morning.
Nothing recovered.
But Dad’s building had an exterior camera.
Poor angle.
Grainy.
Still enough.
Celeste was carrying an object.
A rectangular metal case.
Elias stared at the frame.
“What?”
I asked.
He didn’t answer.
“What is it?”
He looked at me.
“I’ve seen that case before.”
“Where?”
“Daniel kept his forensic backup drive inside it.”
My father hadn’t been robbed randomly.
Someone had taken his evidence.
I looked at Ramirez.
“If Celeste and Victor stole that case, why did Dad hide copies?”
Elias answered.
“Because he knew they might.”
Then another realization struck me.
“If they already got the backup case…”
I touched my purse.
“…they might not know what was inside box 317.”
The brass key wasn’t only dangerous because of what it opened.
May you like
It was dangerous because Celeste and Victor still didn’t know how much Dad had hidden.
And that uncertainty was making them reckless.
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