Chapter 9 - THE CAMERA GRANT THOUGHT WAS GONE
The Harbor Garage cameras were supposedly offline the night Nathan died.
Maintenance records said the system failed during a software update.
The new image proved at least one camera worked.
Metadata led investigators to a backup server retired years ago.
The server had been sold to an e-waste company.
Then reacquired by a former Harbor IT technician named Peter Lane.
Why?
Because Peter noticed someone ordered the backup erased the morning after Nathan died.
He copied the drive first.
Then became afraid.
Grant was powerful.
William Pembrook publicly supported internal stability.
Police had already called the death robbery.
Peter buried the drive in storage.
“What changed now?” Ruiz asked.
Peter looked at Sadi.
“I saw her on the news.”
The footage was incomplete.
No audio.
But enough.
Nathan entered.
Grant entered.
Cole entered.
At 10:43 p.m., the camera caught part of the struggle.
Grant grabbed the evidence bag.
Nathan pulled back.
Grant shoved forward.
Nathan fell beyond frame.
Cole ran toward the edge.
Grant stood still for three seconds.
Then both disappeared down the ramp.
The footage did not show what happened below.
It did not show an intentional plan to kill.
It did show Grant lying for eight years.
His attorney changed strategy immediately.
Accident.
Panic.
Cover-up.
No premeditated murder.
That might be legally closer to truth.
Sadi hated it.
Then Ruiz told her:
“We prosecute what we can prove.”
Same lesson again.
Grant was arrested on charges tied to Nathan’s death, evidence tampering, obstruction, and related conduct.
Additional charges remained under review.
Cole entered a cooperation agreement.
Then the board investigation found Grant had used company resources to maintain surveillance on Sadi for years.
Not constant.
Periodic.
Why?
He feared Nathan had left evidence with her.
The locket.
Grant had searched photographs.
School records.
Social media.
Old family images.
He knew she always wore it.
That was why the scarred man looked at the necklace before her face.
Then Sadi asked Austin:
“Did you know they were watching me?”
“I knew they checked on you sometimes.”
“Sometimes?”
“Yes.”
“You still waited eight years.”
May you like
Austin looked down.
And she realized the murder case might end before her anger at him did.
