Chapter 9 - THE HARD DRIVE IN THE CELLAR
“Henderson,” Iris said immediately.
“Or someone using his fear,” Lydia replied.
Roman studied the stills. They were grainy but clear enough. If the full video existed, it could destroy the theft claim.
“Elena,” he said, “I need permission to enter the manor with private investigators tonight.”
She nodded. “Take whatever belongs to the truth.”
This time they did not sneak.
Lydia served the court’s preservation order on Heartwell Manor at 7:12 p.m., backed by two investigators and the threat of contempt. Preston could stall; he could not openly refuse.
He met them in the foyer with controlled irritation.
“You’re making a spectacle.”
Roman answered, “You started one.”
The investigators searched the office near the wine cellar while Lydia photographed every cabinet and cable connection. Iris remained upstairs with Elena, who had insisted on coming.
Vanessa appeared in the hallway unexpectedly, her voice sweet and poisonous.
“You do realize,” she said to Iris, “that if you had simply taken your firing, none of this would have happened.”
Iris held her gaze.
“If you had simply kept your hand to yourself, none of this would have happened.”
Vanessa’s smile thinned.
For a second her polished mask slipped and something frantic showed underneath.
Then Roman called from downstairs.
They found the hard drive.
Preston demanded a review warrant before anything was opened. Lydia smiled and handed him a supplemental order signed two hours earlier.
In the study, while files copied under forensic supervision, one recovered clip after another appeared.
Staff corridor footage:
Vanessa handing Henderson a napkin.
Henderson opening the locker room.
Vanessa entering two minutes later.
Preston waiting outside.
No question remained.
The ring had been planted.
Iris sat back in her chair, suddenly weak with relief.
But the drive contained more.
A folder labeled PROJECT BLUE.
Inside: transfer drafts, donor records, and wire instructions to a shell company called White Willow Events.
Vanessa’s shell.
Even Preston seemed momentarily unable to hide his anger when he realized the investigators had reached that folder too.
“You stupid woman,” he muttered under his breath.
Vanessa turned on him instantly.
“Don’t you dare.”
Roman heard it.
So did Lydia.
Then the technicians paused on one final deleted file:
STEWARDSHIP_SCHEDULE_SCAN.
Corrupted.
Partially recoverable.
Roman leaned in.
“Can you restore it?”
The tech hesitated.
“Maybe. But not tonight.”
Preston relaxed half an inch.
That tiny reaction was enough to confirm everything.
The missing schedule was real.
And Preston feared it more than the assault video, more than the theft frame, maybe more than the court itself.
At midnight, just as the investigators prepared to leave with the copied data, Elena received a call on her private line.
She answered, listened, and went very still.
When she hung up, Roman knew.
“What happened?”
Elena’s face had gone pale.
“Henderson was found,” she said softly. “In his car. Beaten. Alive, barely.”
May you like
Then she lifted her eyes to Iris.
“And he asked for you before he lost consciousness.”
