Chapter 2 - SEVEN MINUTES MISSING
Dominic refused to question Ellie in front of twelve nervous adults.
He ordered everyone except Clare, Mercer, Vincent, and Arthur out of the great room.
Arthur objected.
Dominic stared at him until he stopped.
Clare sat with Ellie on a sofa near the windows.
The little girl’s wooden latch board rested in her lap.
Dominic remained across from them, his cane beside his chair.
“What happened?” he asked.
Ellie looked at her mother.
Clare brushed hair from the girl’s forehead.
“You can tell him.”
Ellie pointed toward Dominic’s leg.
“The shiny part was up before.”
Dominic frowned.
“Before when?”
“When Mommy was carrying towels.”
Clare looked confused.
Ellie continued.
“The gray-hair man bent down.”
Arthur’s jaw tightened.
“I picked up something I dropped.”
Ellie looked at him.
“No.”
Arthur’s face changed.
Only slightly.
But Dominic saw it.
Ellie opened a silver clasp on her toy.
“He did this.”
Click.
Then she twisted it.
“And then this.”
Mercer looked down at the brace component in his hand.
Dominic turned toward Arthur.
“When?”
Arthur spread his hands.
“I have no idea what she thinks she saw.”
Clare spoke carefully.
“She sometimes notices small things.”
Arthur almost laughed.
“She's four.”
Dominic’s expression remained blank.
“That doesn't make her blind.”
Mercer returned his attention to the brace.
He placed the removed component on the table.
“This isn’t something that flips accidentally.”
Arthur looked toward him.
“You’re certain?”
Mercer nodded.
“The lower compression lock has a directional cam. Installed correctly, pressure distributes away from the nerve channel.”
He turned it over.
“Reversed, every step tightens pressure against the calf.”
Dominic stared at the small piece of metal.
“How much damage?”
“I need imaging before I can answer that.”
“How much damage, Samuel?”
Mercer hesitated.
“Temporary nerve compression, most likely.”
“Most likely?”
“If this continued for several more weeks, there could have been permanent impairment.”
Silence.
Dominic looked at Arthur again.
Arthur's face was unreadable.
“I did not sabotage your brace.”
Dominic tapped one finger against the arm of his chair.
“I didn’t say you did.”
“No. The child did.”
Ellie moved closer to Clare.
Dominic noticed.
Arthur noticed him noticing.
He lowered his voice.
“I’m sorry.”
Dominic turned to Vincent.
“Security footage.”
“Already pulling it.”
“Every camera covering my bedroom, office, physical therapy room, and this floor.”
Vincent nodded.
“And nobody deletes anything.”
A muscle moved in Vincent’s cheek.
“Nobody can.”
Dominic looked at him.
“Good.”
Forty minutes later, Mercer had replaced the brace configuration and wrapped Dominic’s calf with a lighter support.
Even before imaging, the difference was obvious.
Dominic could stand with significantly less pain.
That fact bothered him more than the pain ever had.
He had tolerated weeks of unnecessary suffering because he believed the people around him knew what they were doing.
Someone had counted on that trust.
Vincent returned carrying a tablet.
His expression was different.
Dominic knew that face.
It meant something was wrong.
“What?”
“We have footage from every requested location.”
“And?”
“One gap.”
Arthur looked toward him.
Dominic held out his hand.
Vincent gave him the tablet.
A security timeline filled the screen.
Monday.
11:47 p.m.—hallway camera normal.
11:48 p.m.—normal.
Then black.
No image.
The feed resumed at 11:55.
Seven minutes.
Dominic looked up.
“What happened?”
Vincent’s face hardened.
“The camera wasn’t damaged.”
“Then why is it black?”
“Someone disabled it from the security system.”
Arthur crossed his arms.
“Who has access?”
Vincent did not answer immediately.
Dominic looked at him.
“Vincent.”
“Four people.”
“Names.”
“Me.”
Vincent swallowed.
“You.”
Dominic waited.
“Technical administrator.”
“And?”
Vincent looked toward Arthur.
Arthur’s posture stiffened.
“Arthur.”
Clare drew Ellie closer.
Arthur gave a humorless laugh.
“So now a missing camera makes me guilty?”
Dominic handed the tablet back.
“No.”
He reached for his cane.
“It makes me curious.”
Arthur stepped forward.
“You’ve known me twenty-two years.”
Dominic stood.
“Yes.”
The word landed heavily.
“That’s why you’re still standing in my house instead of answering questions downtown.”
Arthur’s eyes flashed.
Vincent’s earpiece crackled.
He pressed one finger against it.
His expression changed again.
“What?”
Vincent looked at Dominic.
“We checked the audit log.”
“And?”
“The camera shutdown required an administrator credential.”
Dominic waited.
Vincent seemed almost reluctant to continue.
“The system says it wasn’t Arthur’s credential.”
For the first time that night, Arthur looked relieved.
Dominic did not.
“Whose?”
Vincent stared back at him.
“Mine.”
No one moved.
Dominic slowly turned his head toward his security chief.
Vincent had protected him for eleven years.
Taken a bullet for him once.
Dragged him from a burning car another time.
And according to the mansion’s security system, Vincent Hale had personally erased seven minutes from the night someone tampered with Dominic’s brace.
Vincent shook his head.
“I didn’t do it.”
Dominic’s expression became unreadable.
May you like
Arthur looked from one man to the other.
Then, very quietly, he smiled.
