Chapter 17: The Recording

The estate was unusually quiet after Eleanor left.

I carried my tea upstairs without drinking it.

Every step toward the guest room felt heavier than the last.

Nathaniel's archive boxes were still exactly where I had hidden them.

No one had touched the wardrobe.

At least, not yet.

I locked the bedroom door before kneeling on the floor.

The folder marked HAWTHORNE PROJECT lay beside Victor Hayes's business card.

I ignored both.

Instead, I reached for Nathaniel's diary.

Several folded receipts slipped from between the pages.

Fuel purchases.

Parking tickets.

Hotel invoices.

Each one dated within two weeks of the accident.

Nathaniel had been traveling far more than anyone realized.

A smaller envelope rested beneath them.

Unlike the others, it wasn't sealed.

Inside was a tiny black memory card.

No label.

No explanation.

Just a single handwritten note.

"If paper disappears, sound survives."

I read the sentence three times.

Nathaniel's handwriting never trembled.

Even these final words looked calm.

I searched every drawer until I found an old card reader from my jewelry business.

The laptop recognized the device immediately.

One file appeared.

Audio_0716.

My finger hovered over the trackpad.

Something inside me resisted pressing play.

Because once I heard it, I couldn't pretend ignorance anymore.

I clicked.

Static filled the room.

Several seconds passed before Nathaniel's voice emerged.

"Testing... testing... if this works, good."

He sounded tired.

Much older than thirty-four.

"If you're listening to this, Viv... then I probably wasn't being paranoid after all."

My breath caught.

He had recorded this for me.

"I'm sorry."

"I should've involved the police sooner."

"I thought I had more time."

Paper shuffled in the background.

"Someone has been moving company funds through shell accounts."

"Millions."

"The transactions connect Ashford Holdings to Hawthorne Logistics."

"But every signature disappears before investigators arrive."

Another voice interrupted.

Muffled.

Male.

Too distant to identify.

"They're watching."

Nathaniel answered quietly.

"I know."

"I'll leave copies."

"If anything happens, Victor knows where to look."

The recording paused briefly before continuing.

"There's something else."

"Damien doesn't know."

"Or maybe he isn't supposed to know."

"I can't tell which anymore."

I leaned closer to the speakers.

The next sentence came out almost as a whisper.

"Someone inside his own family is using his name."

A knock echoed somewhere in the background.

Nathaniel lowered his voice.

"They're here earlier than expected."

"If I don't finish this... remember one thing."

"Never trust the first story."

A chair scraped violently across the floor.

"Who are—"

The recording ended.

Silence swallowed the room.

No crash.

No struggle.

Nothing.

Only abrupt emptiness.

I stared at the frozen progress bar.

Three minutes.

Twenty-seven seconds.

That was all.

Someone had interrupted him.

Or someone had stopped the recording.

My phone vibrated across the bedside table.

Victor Hayes.

I answered immediately.

"You've listened to it," he said.

It wasn't a question.

"How did you know?"

"Because Nathaniel told me you'd call after hearing his voice."

"I didn't call."

"No."

"But your breathing told me enough the moment you answered."

I closed my eyes.

"The recording cuts off."

"I know."

"Is there another copy?"

"Not that I ever found."

"Do you recognize the second voice?"

"No."

"Nathaniel never identified him."

"But the man saved his life twice before the accident."

"Twice?"

"He warned Nathaniel someone was following him."

"That's why your brother hired me."

"Can we identify the speaker?"

"Perhaps."

"Technology has improved over three years."

"I'll have specialists clean the audio."

"Don't tell Damien."

"I wasn't planning to."

"Good."

"Because whether he's innocent or guilty... someone close to him certainly isn't."

The call ended.

I removed the memory card from the laptop.

This time I didn't return it to the envelope.

Instead, I slipped it into the hidden compartment inside my jewelry toolkit.

The same compartment where I once stored loose emeralds.

Only one person knew it existed.

Nathaniel.

A soft knock interrupted my thoughts.

"Madam?"

It was Rose.

"May I come in?"

"Yes."

She entered carrying a tray of untouched dinner.

"You've barely eaten today."

"I'm not hungry."

Rose hesitated before setting the tray down.

"Mr. Ashford returned early."

I said nothing.

"He's been asking where you were this afternoon."

"Did you tell him?"

"No."

"Thank you."

"Madam..."

Rose lowered her voice.

"Please be careful tonight."

"Why?"

"Because I heard Colette arguing with someone outside the study."

"She kept saying she couldn't find what they were looking for."

My heartbeat slowed.

"Who was she speaking to?"

"I couldn't see."

"It wasn't Mr. Ashford."

"Only a man's voice."

"Did you recognize it?"

"No."

"But he knew your name."

Rose looked genuinely frightened.

"He said if they couldn't find the recording... they'd have to search your room."

Every muscle in my body went rigid.

They knew about the recording.

Not just the documents.

The recording.

Which meant Nathaniel hadn't hidden it as well as he'd hoped.

"Rose," I said quietly.

"Lock every window before you sleep."

"And if anyone asks whether you came here tonight..."

"I never did."

"Exactly."

She nodded and hurried out.

The bedroom fell silent again.

I crossed to the wardrobe and pulled out the Hawthorne Project folder.

This time I opened it.

The first page contained a detailed financial flowchart.

Company names.

Account numbers.

Transfer routes.

Several boxes were circled in red ink.

One name appeared repeatedly.

Ashford Holdings.

Another appeared beside it.

Raven Capital.

I'd never heard of Raven Capital before.

Near the bottom of the page, Nathaniel had written only four words.

"Follow the silent partner."

I turned to the second page.

It had been torn cleanly down the middle.

Half of the evidence was missing.