Chapter 7
The video was shaky. Filmed on an old phone.
David Vance was sitting at a desk. His face was pale.
"If you're watching this, something happened to me," he said. "Richard Harlow and Victor Castillo have been embezzling from the company for over a year. Two point three million dollars. I have the records. I'm going to confront them tomorrow."
He took a breath.
"Melissa knows. She's been helping them. She's been... she's been giving them inside information. I found out yesterday. I haven't told anyone else."
He looked directly into the camera.
"If I'm dead, it was them. Richard, Victor, and Melissa. Don't let them get away with it. Mom, I'm sorry."
The video ended.
Dad and I sat in silence.
Then Dad reached over and squeezed my hand.
"This is it," he said. "This is the evidence."
I nodded. But something was wrong.
"Dad. He said two point three million. The notebook mentioned embezzlement. But the company... Richard is still rich. Where did the money go?"
Dad frowned.
"What are you thinking?"
"I'm thinking there's more. That forty-million-dollar development David mentioned. If Richard and Victor killed him for his share, that's a lot more than two million."
I pulled up the company records on my phone. Public records. Easy to find.
Harlow Development. Current valuation: eighty million dollars.
Founded by Richard Harlow and David Vance.
But after David disappeared, Richard became sole owner.
"Dad. David owned half of an eighty-million-dollar company. And it all went to Richard."
Dad's eyes narrowed.
"Then this was never about two million. It was about the whole company."
We called Eleanor the next morning.
She came over. We showed her the video.
She cried through all of it.
Then she dried her eyes and looked at us with fire.
"I want them to pay. All of them."
Detective Mills came that afternoon.
We gave him everything. The notebook. The USB. The copies.
He watched the video. His face was grim.
"This changes things. This is premeditation. This is conspiracy to commit murder."
"Can you arrest them?" I asked.
"Richard and Melissa are already out on bail. Victor is still at large. But with this... we can upgrade the charges. First-degree murder."
He paused.
"But I need to warn you. This is going to get ugly. Their lawyers will fight. And Victor... he's desperate now. Desperate men do desperate things."
He was right.
That night, Dad's shop was vandalized.
Every window smashed. Spray paint on the walls.
The words: STOP DIGGING.
Dad stood in front of his shop, looking at the damage.
Thirty years of his life. His tools. His name.
I put my arm around him.
"We'll fix it, Dad."
He didn't answer.
But I saw his eyes.
May you like
He wasn't going to stop.
Neither was I.
