Chapter 8: The Crack in the Ice
Harry listened intently to the recording. It picked up just moments after he had walked out of the boardroom the previous day.
“Are you insane?!” Arthur’s voice hissed through the speaker, laced with pure panic. “You told me this was handled, Beatrice! He knows. He practically spelled it out for us. He’s looking at the security feeds!”
“Pull yourself together, Arthur,” Beatrice snapped back, her tone sharp and completely devoid of emotion. “He doesn’t know anything. He’s bluffing. If he had proof, we’d be in handcuffs right now, not sitting in a boardroom.”
“I deleted the footage, just like you said,” Arthur practically whimpered. “But if they pull the server logs, they’ll see my keycard was used.”
“Then we claim your keycard was stolen. Or we say you went down there to check the servers because the internet was lagging,” Beatrice countered smoothly. “It’s circumstantial. You need to stop acting like a guilty man and start acting like a concerned nephew.”
There was a heavy pause on the recording, followed by the sound of pacing.
“I can’t believe we did this,” Arthur muttered, his voice trembling. “She was pregnant, Bea. I saw the blood. What if she dies?”
“If she dies, your debt problem disappears,” Beatrice said, her voice dropping to a terrifyingly casual whisper. “You were too much of a coward to handle this yourself, Arthur. If I hadn't stepped in and given her that push, those loan sharks would be breaking your kneecaps by the end of the month. I secured our future. Now act like a man and protect it.”
Harry hit pause, his finger hovering over the screen. His blood ran like ice water through his veins.
Beatrice. It wasn't Arthur who had pushed Chloe down those stairs. It was Beatrice. Arthur was just the desperate, spineless accomplice brought in to cover the tracks.
The rage that washed over Harry was entirely different from the hot, explosive anger he had felt in the foyer. This was a cold, calculating fury. Beatrice had looked him in the eye and feigned sympathy while knowing she had tried to murder his wife and daughter with her own bare hands.
"Did you hear it?" Frank asked, breaking the silence over the line.
"I heard it," Harry said quietly. "Keep the recording secure. It’s enough for a conspiracy charge, but a slick defense attorney might argue the context. We need an airtight case. We need an eyewitness."
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"The only eyewitness who can put Beatrice's hands on Chloe's back is Chloe," Frank said gently. "Harry... we don't know when she's going to wake up."
"She will," Harry said, his voice unwavering. "She will."
