Chapter 10 - THE SECOND PHONE.
Thomas Reeve did not deny the laptop was in his office.
That would have been difficult.
Detective Ortiz had recovered it from a locked cabinet while executing a warrant.
Reeve denied putting it there.
That was different.
Alexander learned this in the hospital cafeteria while eating scrambled eggs that tasted like damp paper.
Chloe was asleep upstairs.
Her doctors were pleased with her progress.
Alexander had not slept more than four consecutive hours in three days.
He was beginning to understand why people committed crimes against vending machines.
Ortiz sat across from him.
“Reeve says Deputy Director Colin Ward delivered the laptop yesterday.”
“Why?”
“Says it was found in conference-center lost property.”
“Why his office?”
“Security chain of custody.”
Alexander stared at her.
“The chain nobody documented.”
“Yes.”
“Was it searched?”
“Reeve says no.”
“You believe him?”
“You really hate that question when I ask you.”
“Yes.”
She took a drink of coffee.
“Forensics will tell us more.”
Alexander pushed his eggs away.
“What about cloud backups?”
“Warrant approved.”
“And?”
“We recovered Chloe’s first video.”
For a second he forgot the cafeteria existed.
“Kitchen?”
“Yes.”
“Have you watched it?”
“Yes.”
“Show me.”
Ortiz hesitated.
“Alexander.”
“Show me.”
“It may be difficult.”
“My daughter is upstairs.”
“That’s why.”
He looked at her until she understood he would rather see reality than imagine it.
Ortiz opened her tablet.
The video began shakily.
Chloe’s camera pointed toward a stainless-steel kitchen.
Marisol was carrying plates.
Grant Heller sat partly visible through the service doorway.
His foot extended.
The wheel of a service cart jerked sideways.
Marisol struck it and stumbled.
China crashed.
People reacted.
The camera swung.
Bryce Vale entered.
“What the hell?” he said.
Marisol apologized automatically.
That bothered Alexander more than shouting would have.
She was bleeding from her palm and still apologized.
Bryce looked at the broken dishes.
“Clean it up.”
Chloe’s voice came from behind the camera.
“She’s hurt.”
Bryce turned.
“Then somebody else can clean it.”
“No,” Chloe said. “You can stop acting like an ass.”
Someone laughed.
Not with her.
Bryce looked directly into the camera.
“Are you filming me?”
“Yes.”
“Delete it.”
“No.”
He walked closer.
The image shook.
His hand covered the lens.
The video ended.
Alexander sat motionless.
“What does it prove?”
Ortiz watched him carefully.
“Grant’s foot appears to contact the cart.”
“Appears.”
“Yes. Video angle isn’t perfect.”
“Bryce ordered Marisol to clean while injured.”
“Yes.”
“Chloe recorded him.”
“Yes.”
“Doesn’t prove attack.”
“No.”
“Doesn’t prove tips.”
“No.”
Alexander nodded.
“Good.”
Ortiz studied him.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“You thought I’d lose it.”
“I thought you might.”
“I am losing it.”
“You hide it well.”
“That’s not the same thing.”
She closed the video.
“We also recovered a text exchange.”
“Between?”
“Chloe and Maya.”
Alexander waited.
“At 10:58 Chloe wrote, ‘I think they’re stealing from workers.’”
“And?”
“Maya asked who.”
“What did Chloe say?”
Ortiz looked at him.
“She wrote, ‘Not sure. Bryce knows something.’”
Alexander absorbed that.
Suspicion.
Not fact.
“What else?”
“11:06. Chloe: ‘If I disappear tell my dad I was right.’”
Alexander’s face hardened.
Ortiz raised a hand.
“Maya responded with three laughing emojis.”
“So joke.”
“Looks like it.”
Alexander exhaled.
“Don’t turn it into prophecy.”
“Exactly.”
He appreciated the correction even while hating the message.
Ortiz continued.
“There’s another item.”
“What?”
“Chloe emailed herself a spreadsheet at 11:12.”
“Payroll?”
“Tip comparisons.”
“Anything conclusive?”
“Not yet.”
Alexander nodded.
“Then why was her laptop locked in Reeve’s office?”
“We don’t know.”
A nurse called Alexander upstairs.
Chloe had asked for him.
When he entered, she looked exhausted but awake.
He sat.
“Ortiz found your kitchen video.”
Chloe’s eyes widened.
“Good.”
“And laptop.”
She frowned.
“Where?”
“Security office.”
That disturbed her.
“I left it…”
She stopped.
“Where?”
“Room.”
“Dorm?”
“Yes.”
Alexander felt his chest tighten.
“You’re sure?”
“Yes.”
He believed she believed it.
Whether memory was accurate remained another question.
“You had another device?”
Chloe looked confused.
He explained.
“You said there were two videos. They found the kitchen one. Ortiz wants the second.”
Her brow furrowed.
Then realization crossed her face.
“Old phone.”
“What old phone?”
She tried to smile.
“You hate it.”
Alexander knew instantly.
An ancient cracked iPhone he had told her to recycle for two years.
“You kept that?”
“Wi-Fi camera.”
“Why?”
“Battery.”
He stared.
Chloe almost looked amused.
“You told me backup systems.”
Alexander sighed.
“I regret teaching you anything.”
The old phone was apparently inside a drawer beneath her bed.
Police had already searched the room, but nobody had known to look for a second device.
Ortiz returned with it that evening.
Cracked screen.
No cellular service.
Still functional.
Chloe had used it during Founders’ Night because her primary phone battery was low.
She recorded the kitchen incident on her main phone.
Later, after Bryce took it and apparently deleted the video, Chloe switched to the old device while in the staff changing room.
The second recording began at 11:17 P.M.
Alexander watched beside Ortiz.
Chloe’s face appeared briefly in selfie mode.
Angry.
Whispering.
“If something happens, Bryce Vale took my phone. He deleted the video, but it’s backed up.”
The camera turned.
Through a cracked door, Bryce stood in the service hallway speaking with Officer Nathan Brooks.
Audio was faint.
Brooks: “You’re done for tonight.”
Bryce: “Call my dad.”
Brooks: “No.”
Bryce: “You know who paid for this whole security upgrade?”
Brooks: “Go home, Mr. Vale.”
Then another voice entered.
Older.
Male.
Off camera.
“Officer, we can handle this.”
Brooks responded sharply.
“Who are you?”
The older voice answered too quietly to understand.
Chloe moved the phone closer.
A dark-jacketed man stepped partly into frame.
Only shoulder.
Hand.
A silver object near his wrist.
Then Chloe accidentally bumped the door.
Everybody turned.
The recording ended.
Alexander replayed it.
Again.
Again.
Ortiz watched him.
“What are you seeing?”
“The silver thing.”
“Watch?”
“No.”
“Bracelet?”
“No.”
Alexander zoomed.
Pixelation.
Not enough detail.
He stopped.
“What?”
Ortiz leaned closer.
Alexander pulled the matte-black Vanguard challenge coin from his pocket.
Silver eagle.
He placed it beside the frozen screen.
The shapes were not identical.
Not clear enough.
But something about the geometry made his stomach tighten.
Ortiz saw his face.
“Alexander.”
“I don’t know.”
“Then say that.”
He forced himself.
“I don’t know what it is.”
“Good.”
She closed the video.
“Do not turn three pixels into a conspiracy.”
“I know.”
But that was not what disturbed him most.
On the recording, just before the older man stepped into frame, he said something almost lost beneath kitchen noise.
Alexander had missed it the first three times.
The fourth time he heard it.
One word.
Not a name.
Not a threat.
A title.
May you like
“Commander.”
Someone outside Chloe’s changing room had been talking about Alexander before Chloe was ever attacked.
