Chapter 3 - ELENA’S VOICE FROM THE DEAD
Damon did not plug the flash drive into his computer.
He called his head of cybersecurity.
Twenty minutes later, Theo Grant entered the study carrying an isolated laptop.
Theo had worked for Damon for nine years and had the rare distinction of being one of the few employees willing to tell him when he was wrong.
He examined the drive.
“No network connection,” Theo said. “No cloud sync. We open it offline.”
Naomi stood near the window with Zuri sleeping against her shoulder.
Damon noticed she had not tried to leave.
That frightened him more than if she had run.
Theo opened the drive.
Three folders appeared.
FINANCIAL.
MARCUS.
DAMON.
Damon clicked his own name.
One video.
ELENA_FINAL_2.
His hand stopped above the trackpad.
Naomi turned away.
Damon pressed play.
Elena appeared on screen.
She was sitting in the music room downstairs.
He knew the blue dress.
She had worn it two weeks before her death.
Her face looked thinner than he remembered.
“Damon,” she began, “if you are watching this, then I either became paranoid for no reason, or I was right.”
Damon gripped the desk.
“I hope I was paranoid.”
She tried to smile.
Failed.
“Something is wrong with my medication.”
Damon stopped breathing.
Naomi shut her eyes.
Elena continued.
“I started feeling worse after my prescription was changed. The label looks right. The tablets don’t.”
Damon remembered Elena complaining about dizziness.
He had taken her to specialists.
He had trusted doctors.
He had trusted the household staff responsible for collecting prescriptions.
“I asked Marcus Carter to help because I found transfers from the Ashford Foundation that didn’t make sense. Marcus found more. A lot more.”
She looked toward the door.
Even on a recording from three years ago, Damon felt the fear in her.
“I don’t know who is responsible yet.”
Then Elena leaned closer to the camera.
“But Victor knows I’m asking questions.”
Damon whispered, “No.”
Victor Ashford was his cousin.
His father’s brother’s son.
His chief financial officer.
The man who had stood beside Damon at Elena’s funeral.
The man who had helped carry her coffin.
Elena continued.
“Do not confront him without proof. Please.”
Damon almost laughed at the cruelty of hearing her give him instructions from beyond the grave.
Then she said something stranger.
“Naomi knows where the second copy is.”
Damon looked at Naomi.
Her eyes remained closed.
“What second copy?”
She shook her head.
“I don’t know.”
On screen, Elena looked directly into the camera.
“And Damon, if Naomi ever comes to the house, listen to her before you judge why she came.”
The video ended.
Nobody spoke.
Theo opened the FINANCIAL folder.
Hundreds of files.
Transfers.
Shell companies.
Charitable disbursements.
Most were encrypted.
One was accessible.
A spreadsheet listing $18.7 million in transfers from the Ashford Foundation over four years.
Every payment had been approved through the CFO’s office.
Victor’s office.
Theo leaned back.
“This is enough to start a serious internal investigation.”
Damon’s phone rang.
Victor.
Everyone stared at the screen.
Damon answered.
“Where are you?”
Victor sounded amused.
“Heading to your house, actually.”
Damon felt ice move through his veins.
“Why?”
“Mrs. Whitfield called.”
Damon turned toward the doorway.
Mrs. Whitfield stood there.
Her face was gray.
Victor continued through the phone.
“She said your maid found Elena’s ring.”
Damon looked at his house manager.
May you like
Mrs. Whitfield whispered:
“I didn’t call him.”
