Chapter 3 - The Hidden Lenses
By 4:00 A.M., the estate was swarming with paramedics and Austin Police Department officers.
Chloe had been loaded onto a stretcher, her neck immobilized in a rigid brace. She had slipped into shock, weeping softly as the EMTs injected her with morphine.
Julian and Eleanor sat on the living room sofa, wrapped in blankets, playing the parts of traumatized family members flawlessly. Julian even managed to squeeze out a few tears as he spoke to the lead investigator, Detective Vance (no relation).
“I don't know how it happened, officer,” Julian lied smoothly, rubbing his eyes. “My wife is heavily pregnant, and she asked Chloe to run upstairs to get a bag. I was asleep. The next thing I know, my sister is screaming. The cleaning lady must have used too much wax on the marble yesterday.”
Eleanor chimed in, pointing a trembling finger at Victoria, who was sitting across the room with a paramedic checking her blood pressure.
“It’s her fault!” Eleanor cried out, her eyes flashing with venom. “Victoria demanded that Chloe go upstairs! At three in the morning! Who makes a young girl run errands in the middle of the night? Victoria is negligent! She practically pushed her!”
Detective Vance frowned, writing in his notepad. He walked over to Victoria.
“Mrs. Vance, your mother-in-law seems to think you bear some responsibility for the environment of the house tonight. Is it true you ordered your sister-in-law upstairs?”
Victoria looked up at the detective, her expression completely serene.
“Detective,” Victoria said softly, “my husband is the CEO of my commercial real estate firm. He handles the domestic staff. If the stairs were over-waxed, that would fall under his purview. However...”
She paused, adjusting the cashmere blanket over her lap.
“...I don't believe this was a cleaning accident. In fact, I know it wasn't.”
Julian stood up from the sofa, his face turning an ugly shade of red. “Victoria, what are you talking about? You’re in shock! You’re hysterical from the pregnancy!”
“Sit down, Julian,” Victoria snapped, her voice cracking like a whip. She turned back to the detective. “Six months ago, when I found out I was pregnant, I had a private security firm install hidden nanny-cams in all the primary hallways and common areas of this estate. I wanted to ensure my baby would always be safe. I never told my husband because he hates the idea of being watched.”
Julian’s jaw dropped. All the blood drained from his face, leaving him looking like a corpse. Eleanor let out a strangled gasp, clutching her chest.
“Cameras?” Julian whispered, the word barely making it past his lips.
“Yes, Julian. Cameras,” Victoria smiled—a cold, terrifying smile. She handed her unlocked iPad to Detective Vance. “Detective, if you open the security application on that screen, you will see exactly how the stairs became slippery. And you will see exactly what my husband and his mother did for three minutes while Chloe bled on the floor.”
The detective tapped the screen. The high-definition infrared footage began to play.
The room went dead silent, save for the faint audio coming from the iPad speakers: “When she walks down for her tea, she won't be able to catch herself... By tomorrow, everything will belong to Julian. The estate, the company, and the $1.5 million.”
Eleanor began to hyperventilate.
Julian lunged forward, trying to snatch the iPad out of the detective’s hands. “That’s illegal! You can’t record us without our consent!”
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Detective Vance smoothly sidestepped Julian and signaled to the two uniformed officers by the door.
“Actually, Mr. Vance, Texas is a one-party consent state, and this is her private residence,” the detective said, his voice dropping to a dangerous baritone. “Officers. Cuff them both.”
