Chapter 12 - THE NIGHT THE POWER WENT OUT|
The estate lost power at 11:43 p.m.
The lights flickered once, then went dark. Emergency systems activated in the corridors, casting a dim red glow across the walls.
Maya woke instantly.
She had spent too many nights in unfamiliar places to sleep deeply. She reached for her phone, checked the time, and listened.
Footsteps moved outside her door.
A knock followed.
"Miss Reeves," Cross called. "Stay inside."
Maya stood.
"What's happening?"
"We've lost the primary network and two exterior camera feeds. The backup generator is running, but the system is not responding as expected."
"Is it a storm outage?"
"We don't think so."
She opened the door a few inches.
Cross stood in the corridor with two guards.
"Someone is inside the estate," he said.
Maya's stomach tightened.
"How do you know?"
"The west service entrance opened without a valid credential. The event was logged, then deleted."
"Can you restore the log?"
"Not yet."
Maya looked down the corridor.
"Then the person who entered may have access to the security system."
Cross nodded.
"Which is why you're staying here."
"No. The financial archive is in the east office. If someone is trying to erase records, that's where they'll go."
Cross hesitated.
"Mr. Kang ordered you to remain in your room."
"Then tell him I intend to help protect the evidence."
Before Cross could answer, a crash sounded from the floor below.
The guards moved immediately.
Cross escorted Maya toward the east office, keeping her behind him. They reached the corridor just as James emerged from the library with a flashlight.
"You're supposed to be upstairs," he said.
"So are you, if we're following instructions."
James gave her a sharp look, but there was no time to argue.
A security officer appeared at the end of the hall.
"Someone entered the archive room. The door's been forced."
They hurried there.
The room was empty.
A cabinet stood open, papers scattered across the floor. The flash drive containing Richard Kang's recording was missing.
Maya moved toward the desk.
"Don't touch anything," Cross warned.
She stopped.
The cabinet's electronic lock showed signs of tampering. Beside it lay a small piece of black plastic.
Maya recognized the material.
"It's from a hardware security key."
James looked at Cross.
"Could it have been used to bypass the system?"
"Possibly. We need technical analysis."
Maya examined the room without touching the evidence.
"The person didn't search the entire archive. They went directly to the cabinet where the Blackbridge materials were stored."
"That suggests they knew what they wanted," James said.
"And knew where it was."
A noise came from the adjoining corridor.
The guards moved to investigate. Seconds later, one returned carrying a man in a maintenance uniform.
The man was in his thirties, breathing hard, with a cut above his eyebrow.
"Found him near the service exit," the guard said.
James stepped forward.
"Who sent you?"
The man shook his head.
"I don't know what you're talking about."
Cross searched his pockets and found a temporary access badge, a phone, and a folded piece of paper.
The paper contained a single instruction.
Retrieve the drive. Leave no copies.
No name appeared.
Maya looked at the phone.
"Can you preserve it without accessing anything illegally?"
Cross nodded.
"We'll have a forensic specialist handle it."
The man was taken to a secure room while the authorities were contacted.
As the power returned, James stood beside the open cabinet.
"Someone is willing to break into my home to obtain a recording that may be seven years old."
Maya looked at the empty space where the drive had been.
"That means the recording contains something they still fear."
James turned toward her.
"Then we'll find another way to recover it."
Maya nodded.
But as they left the archive room, she noticed something beneath the overturned chair.
A small envelope had fallen behind the desk.
It had not been opened.
Inside was a photograph of Maya standing outside Halloran Whitmore on the day she reported the fraud.
May you like
On the back, someone had written:
You were never supposed to survive the first investigation.
