[CHAPTER 7] - The Camera Vivian Forgot
Dad took me out of the house that night.
We stayed in a hotel under another name.
Two police officers remained on our floor.
Hannah stayed with us.
I slept between her and Dad because nobody trusted closed doors anymore.
The next morning, Dad remembered something.
His camera.
Not the hidden camera Vivian stole.
Another one.
Months earlier, he had installed a small security camera inside the garage after someone broke into a neighbor's car.
Vivian knew about it.
She also believed it had stopped working.
Dad had disconnected the notification app because it kept sending alerts whenever a tree branch moved.
But the camera itself still recorded to an online account.
Dad opened his laptop.
His hands shook while he searched old recordings.
Then we saw her.
Vivian.
Three nights earlier.
She opened the garage door at 1:12 a.m.
Mason's dark SUV backed inside.
Nora was carried out wrapped in a blanket.
She was awake.
She struggled.
Mason covered her mouth.
Hannah turned away from the screen.
Dad looked like he might be sick.
The recording continued.
Vivian pointed toward the kitchen.
Mason carried Nora inside.
Twenty minutes later, he returned alone.
They stood beneath the garage camera.
The audio was weak.
Dad increased the volume.
Vivian's voice came through.
"...until the paperwork is done."
Mason laughed.
"Kid's getting loud."
"Then keep her quiet."
"What if Carter notices?"
"He doesn't notice anything."
Dad closed his eyes.
Vivian continued.
"When Hannah signs away the guardianship claim, Nora comes out."
"And if she doesn't?"
A long pause.
Vivian looked directly toward the garage.
"Then we make sure she can't claim anything."
Hannah whispered, "Oh God."
Mason asked, "What about the trust?"
"Once I'm guardian, I control everything."
There it was.
Money.
Four million dollars.
A child locked inside a wall because Vivian wanted control of her inheritance.
Then Mason said something worse.
"Should've handled Hannah like Maya."
Vivian spun toward him.
"Don't say that here."
Nobody in the hotel room moved.
Mason laughed.
"What? Your husband has cameras?"
Vivian looked toward the camera.
Then she smiled.
"Not working ones."
The footage ended.
Detective Reed watched it twice.
He immediately sent officers to bring Mason in.
Police couldn't find him.
But the recording changed the case.
Vivian was no longer just a relative involved in a custody dispute.
The FBI joined the search.
Maya's death was reopened.
Nora's disappearance became a kidnapping investigation with evidence of conspiracy.
Dad gave police every password, bank account, property record, and contact linked to Vivian.
Hannah did the same.
I sat on the hotel carpet drawing.
Adults spoke quietly.
I heard words I didn't understand.
Poison.
Forgery.
Embezzlement.
Homicide.
I understood Nora.
Every time someone said her name, I looked up.
That afternoon, Detective Reed received a call.
A traffic camera caught Mason's SUV entering a warehouse district outside Fairmont.
Police surrounded a towing yard.
They found the SUV.
Nobody was inside.
But there was blood on the back seat.
Hannah broke down.
Dad grabbed her shoulders.
"It might not be Nora's."
She couldn't answer.
Hours passed.
Testing showed the blood belonged to Mason.
Not Nora.
That should have relieved us.
It didn't.
Why was Mason bleeding?
Where was Vivian?
Where was Nora?
Police searched the towing yard.
They found a locked office.
Inside were fake IDs.
Cash.
Two passports.
And a map.
Three locations were circled.
Lake Marlow.
Our house.
And a small private airfield near the state line.
Dad stared at the map.
"They're leaving."
Detective Reed nodded.
The airfield was thirty miles away.
Police raced there.
A charter plane had departed forty minutes earlier.
Destination unknown.
The pilot's paperwork listed two passengers.
Victoria Lane.
Emily Lane.
Fake names.
One adult.
One child.
Hannah collapsed into a chair.
"No."
Dad looked at Reed.
"Where did the plane go?"
"We're contacting aviation authorities."
"How long?"
"We're working on it."
"Where did it go?"
Reed's phone rang.
He answered.
His expression changed.
"Say that again."
Everyone watched.
He ended the call.
"The plane never crossed state lines."
Hannah stood.
"What?"
"It landed nineteen minutes after takeoff."
"Where?"
"A private strip outside Bellweather."
Dad frowned.
"Why?"
"The pilot says the woman claimed the child was vomiting and needed medical attention."
My stomach tightened.
"Is Nora sick?"
No one answered me.
Police called the nearest clinics.
No Nora.
No Vivian.
Then the charter pilot mentioned something.
A pickup truck had been waiting beside the runway.
The driver had a bandaged arm.
Mason.
They were still together.
Still moving.
Dad stared at the map.
"She's not trying to escape yet."
Reed looked at him.
"What makes you say that?"
"Because if Vivian wanted to disappear, she wouldn't take a sick child off a plane to meet Mason."
Hannah whispered, "Then what is she doing?"
Dad's face went pale.
"Finishing something."
He looked at the evidence from Vivian's financial accounts.
"The trust."
Vivian needed one more document before she could access Nora's inheritance.
A court-certified guardianship transfer.
One she could not legally obtain.
Unless she forged it.
Hannah suddenly remembered a name.
"Charles Mercer."
Vivian's uncle.
A retired attorney.
He lived outside Bellweather.
Police drove to his house.
His front door was open.
The office had been destroyed.
Charles Mercer was gone.
But on his desk, detectives found a half-completed legal document.
PETITION FOR EMERGENCY GUARDIANSHIP OF NORA ELAINE BLAKE.
At the bottom was a forged signature.
Hannah's.
May you like
Vivian wasn't running from the law yet.
She was trying to steal Nora's future before she disappeared.
