Chapter 4: Marcus's Choice
Chapter 4: Marcus's Choice
The room fell silent.
"It was Marcus?" I repeated.
Detective James Morrison nodded.
"According to the security system, Marcus accessed the surveillance server at 8:18 p.m.—nineteen minutes before your fall."
My mind raced.
Marcus had worked for our family for nearly fifteen years.
He wasn't just the estate manager.
He had been my grandmother's most trusted employee.
He had watched Tyler and me grow up.
He had taught me how to ride a bicycle.
He would never help Tyler hurt me.
At least... that's what I wanted to believe.
"So he took the footage?" I asked.
"Yes."
"Does that mean he destroyed the evidence?"
"We don't know."
Morrison leaned forward.
"There's another possibility."
"What?"
"He copied it to protect it."
Across town, officers searched Marcus's small house.
The front door was unlocked.
Nothing appeared stolen.
Nothing looked disturbed.
A cup of coffee sat on the kitchen table, now cold.
His reading glasses rested beside an open newspaper.
It looked as if he had simply stepped outside...
And never returned.
Officer Daniel Ruiz entered the home office.
"Detective!"
Morrison walked in.
"What did you find?"
Ruiz pointed toward the computer desk.
The desktop computer was still running.
On the screen was an unfinished email.
It had never been sent.
The subject line read:
If Anything Happens to Me...
Morrison quickly opened the draft.
The message contained only three short sentences.
Bridget,
Your grandmother knew Tyler would never accept her decision.
The truth is hidden where Eleanor never looks.
That was it.
No signature.
No explanation.
Just three sentences.
"Eleanor," Morrison whispered.
"My mother," I said when he later showed me a photo of the email.
He nodded.
"The question is... where does Eleanor never look?"
I closed my eyes.
Trying to remember.
Trying to think like Marcus.
Then suddenly...
A memory surfaced.
Three weeks earlier.
Grandma Evelyn had invited me for tea.
Marcus had been serving cookies in the garden.
Grandma smiled at him.
"Eleanor never comes in here anymore."
Marcus laughed softly.
"She says flowers make her sneeze."
Grandma had smiled in a very strange way.
"That's exactly why it's the safest place."
At the time, I hadn't understood what she meant.
Now...
I opened my eyes.
"The greenhouse."
"What?"
"My grandmother's greenhouse."
Morrison immediately stood.
"Tell me."
"My mother hated that place."
"She never watered the plants."
"She never even opened the door."
"It belonged to Grandma."
"And Marcus spent hours there."
The detective pulled out his phone.
"Ruiz."
"Get a team to the Walker estate."
"Search the greenhouse."
"Every inch."
Less than an hour later, officers unlocked the old glass greenhouse behind the mansion.
Most of the plants had withered since Grandma's death.
Dust covered the shelves.
Sunlight filtered through cracked glass panels.
Ruiz carefully searched every flowerpot.
Nothing.
Another officer examined the workbench.
Still nothing.
Then Morrison noticed something unusual.
One brick beneath the potting table looked newer than the others.
He knelt.
Tapped it.
Hollow.
"Move the table."
The officers lifted it aside.
Morrison pried the loose brick free.
Inside the hidden compartment rested a small metal box.
Locked.
Ruiz smiled.
"I think Marcus wanted us to find this."
The box was taken directly to the evidence lab.
Within thirty minutes, technicians carefully opened it.
Inside were only three items.
A silver key.
A sealed envelope.
And a tiny USB flash drive.
Morrison immediately put on evidence gloves.
He opened the envelope first.
Inside was a handwritten note.
The neat handwriting belonged to my grandmother.
It read:
If you're reading this, then I was right to be afraid.
Trust Marcus.
Trust Bridget.
Trust no one else in this family.The real evidence is on the drive.
Morrison stared at the note for several seconds.
Then he inserted the USB drive into a forensic computer.
A single video file appeared.
Deck_Camera_Backup.mp4
The missing security footage.
The room became completely silent.
Technicians gathered around the monitor.
Morrison pressed Play.
The timestamp read 8:36:42 PM.
The video showed Tyler and me standing near the railing.
There was no audio.
Only pictures.
I saw myself smiling politely.
Tyler stepped closer.
He said something.
I answered.
Then...
He glanced over both shoulders.
Making sure no one was watching.
His hands suddenly slammed into my shoulders.
I flew backward.
The railing exploded.
I disappeared from the screen.
Several investigators froze in disbelief.
One technician whispered,
"My God..."
The video continued.
Tyler leaned over the broken railing.
His face twisted with panic.
Then...
He looked directly toward the security camera.
For just one second.
He smiled.
A cold...
Satisfied...
Almost triumphant smile.
Before instantly pretending to panic as the guests rushed outside.
Detective Morrison slowly paused the video.
"No jury in America," he said quietly,
"is going to mistake that for an accident."
Just then, his phone rang.
He answered immediately.
"Morrison."
The voice on the other end spoke rapidly.
The detective's expression changed.
"What happened?"
A long silence followed.
Finally, he lowered the phone.
Officer Ruiz looked at him.
"What is it?"
Morrison took a slow breath.
"We're too late."
Ruiz frowned.
"Too late for what?"
"They just found Marcus."
"Alive?"
The detective looked toward the paused image of Tyler smiling at the camera.
Then he answered in a quiet voice.
"No."
May you like
"They found his body."
To Be Continued...
