Chapter 4: The Photograph in the Folder
Marcus stared at the security monitor, his own photograph frozen on the screen.
The image showed him standing outside his office building in a charcoal suit, one hand holding his car keys. He remembered the day it had been taken. It was a photograph from a company event, one he'd never printed or placed anywhere in the house.
Yet there it was, inside a folder his wife had secretly handed to a stranger.
“Vanessa,” Marcus said, his voice dangerously quiet, “where did he get my picture?””
Vanessa swallowed and adjusted the strap of her designer handbag.
“I don't know.””
“You pointed at it.””
“I was telling him something about the photograph.””
“What?””
She looked toward the front doorway.
“Can we please stop doing this in front of your mother and son?””
Marcus let out a short, disbelieving laugh.
“You had no problem screaming at my mother in front of our son. You had no problem accusing her of stealing ten thousand dollars. But now that I'm asking about a folder with my name on it, suddenly you want privacy?””
Vanessa's cheeks flushed.
“That's not fair.””
“Then make it fair. Tell me the truth.””
For several seconds, she said nothing.
Evelyn sat down slowly, her knees trembling. Noah brought her a glass of water from the coffee table and placed it in her hands.
“Here you go, Grandma.””
“Thank you, sweetheart.””
He crouched beside her.
“Are you okay?””
Evelyn tried to smile.
“I will be, baby.””
Marcus watched them for a moment. His mother's hands were still shaking. The same hands that had cooked his meals when he was a teenager, worked double shifts to pay for his school supplies, and held him through his father's funeral were trembling because his wife had decided to make her a criminal.
He turned back to Vanessa.
“You owe her an apology.””
Vanessa's lips tightened.
“Marcus, don't tell me what I owe anybody.””
“Apologize.””
“I said I was upset!””
“You didn't make a mistake by raising your voice. You deliberately planted evidence.””
Vanessa grabbed the empty envelope from the table and crumpled it in her fist.
“Fine! I'm sorry she got dragged into this.””
Evelyn looked up.
“That isn't an apology, Vanessa.””
The words surprised everyone, including Evelyn herself.
Vanessa stared at her.
“What did you say?””
Evelyn placed the glass down with deliberate care.
“I said you haven't apologized. You blamed me for something you did. You looked me in the face and called me a thief.””
Vanessa gave a cold laugh.
“And now you want to lecture me?””
“No,” Evelyn answered.
“I want you to stop hurting my son.””
Marcus felt his throat tighten.
Vanessa looked away first.
He returned to the monitor and resumed the footage. The stranger closed the folder, tucked it beneath his arm, and stepped toward his sedan.
“Wait,” Marcus murmured.
He rewound the video.
The man had worn a silver watch on his left wrist. When he turned toward the driveway, the watch caught the light. His right hand remained wrapped around the folder, while his left briefly touched his jacket pocket.
Marcus zoomed in on the pocket.
Something rectangular bulged beneath the fabric.
A phone, perhaps. Or another document.
“Can you identify him?”” Marcus asked.
Vanessa shook her head too quickly.
“No.””
“You're sure?””
“I said no.””
Marcus turned to face her.
“You met him at our front door. You handed him a folder with my name on it. You pointed at my photograph. And you're telling me you don't know who he is?””
“I don't have to explain every person I speak to.””
“Then explain this.””
Marcus paused the recording and opened the camera's event log. The driveway camera had captured the stranger arriving at 1:48 p.m. The front-door footage showed Vanessa handing him the folder six minutes later.
But the study camera showed her retrieving it at 1:53 p.m.
She had taken the folder out of the study after the man arrived.
Marcus slowly looked up.
“He came here before you took the folder.””
Vanessa said nothing.
“You knew he was coming.””
“Marcus—”
“You knew he was coming, and you had something ready for him.””
She pressed her fingers against her forehead.
“Please stop.””
“No. Not until I know what you've done.””
The doorbell rang.
Everyone turned.
Noah immediately moved closer to Evelyn.
Vanessa's face lost what little color remained.
Marcus glanced at the front-door camera. The stranger was standing outside again.
He was alone.
And he was looking directly into the security camera.
“Don't open that door,” Vanessa whispered.
Marcus turned toward her.
“Why?””
She took one step backward.
“Because you don't understand what you're getting yourself into.””
The doorbell rang a second time.
Marcus walked toward the entrance, but before he reached it, the stranger lifted a hand and held a white envelope against the glass.
Marcus stopped.
The stranger's lips moved.
Although the camera had no audio, Marcus could read the words.
Ask your wife.
Then the man slipped the envelope beneath the door.
He stepped away and walked toward his sedan.
Marcus watched him leave before bending to retrieve the envelope.
His name was printed across the front.
MARCUS BENNETT.
Inside was a single sheet of paper.
He unfolded it.
The message consisted of one sentence.
Before you trust your wife again, find out why she needed your signature.
Marcus read it twice.
Then he looked at Vanessa.
She was staring at the paper as though it were a loaded weapon.
“What signature?”” he asked.
May you like
Vanessa didn't answer.
And for the first time in their marriage, Marcus wondered whether the woman standing in front of him had been planning something against him long before she accused his mother of stealing.
