Eve Of A Thousand Wakes

003 Mystery Solved

"We'll get to the revelation shortly, doll," Doyle replied. "What about my payment?"

Ashley dug through her purse and pulled out a paper bag, thick with cash. Doyle reached for it instinctively—but she yanked it back and shook her head.

"I managed to scrape together five thousand dollars, Harry. I'll pay you—but first, tell me what you found."

The detective shrugged. In truth, Doyle was a highly regarded private investigator, frequently contracted by state police, the FBI, and even international agencies.

Doyle's policy was always payment up front, but he was glad to bend the rules for this young woman. He sensed something special in Ashley and found himself powerfully drawn to her.

"Fine. I'll do you one better—I'll show you what I dug up on video."

Doyle opened the Prius's back door and waved Ashley inside. The moment the tinted windows rose, sealing them off from the world, he fired up his laptop and clicked on a single video file.

"This won't be easy, doll," he warned. "I'm going to play it, but you can stop watching anytime if it's too much for you."

Ashley furrowed her brow anxiously. "Why are you being so ominous? Who's the culprit?"

Doyle clicked play. "See for yourself."

The footage was grainy, the angle high and clinical—CCTV. Three masked figures stood inside an abandoned garage, waiting. Two more men shoved through the overhead door, one of them hauling a body over his shoulder like a sack of grain.

"This footage was recovered from an abandoned garage in Alpine Hills. It took me months to get my hands on a copy."

Ashley raised an eyebrow. "Alpine Hills? That's where the Palmer estate is! How is that—"

"Keep watching," Doyle said, cutting her off. "I don't want to spoil it for you."

The man hauling the body crossed to the waiting figures and dropped his burden onto the concrete floor, careless, like it weighed nothing.

Ashley tried to make out the abducted man's face. "Oh, my God! That's—"

"Arthur Palmer—your father, yes!" Doyle finished for her, watching her tremble.

One of the masked figures pulled out a handkerchief and a small black bottle, soaked the cloth, and pressed it over Arthur's face. A moment later, his eyes snapped open. He started to struggle—weak, frantic, useless.

"Oh, my God! He's awake!" Ashley exclaimed. "Is he still alive?"

Her question was answered before she'd even finished asking it. The masked figure drew a serrated knife and drove it into him, again and again.

"No!" Ashley wailed, clamping a hand over her mouth. On the screen, her father never had a chance—the blade found him over and over until he stopped fighting, until he stopped everything. Blood spread beneath him in a slow, dark tide.

Tears streamed down Ashley's face. "That's why they never found his body," she sobbed. "He was abducted. He was murdered. Right in front of me, and I couldn't do anything."

Ashley felt a sudden chill. She wrapped her arms around herself to stop the shaking. Doyle raised an arm to comfort her, then thought better of it and paused the video.

"Are you sure you want to keep watching? We can take this straight to the police."

"I'm okay… Let me watch all of it…" Ashley murmured, her lips quivering.

Once her father stopped moving, something in Ashley went quiet too—the fear burning off into something colder, harder. She didn't want comfort anymore. She wanted a name.

When it was over, the figure didn't leave right away. He stood over the body, watching Arthur die by inches, and laughed—actually laughed, clapping like he was at the theater. Only then did he turn to go, peeling off his mask as he walked.

Ashley leaned in, squinting—and then her whole body went still. She knew that face.

It was Scarlet! Scarlet Palmer! Her stepsister!

The world tilted. Ashley's stomach lurched violently, and she barely made it out of the car before she was sick into a bush.

"Fuck! What the fuck! Scarlet did this?! But why?! It can't be real. It's a mistake, Harry!"

"I know this is a lot to take in, doll," Doyle said calmly. "But I have a flash drive full of W******p chats showing Scarlet cutting a deal with the Zetelica gang to kill Arthur Palmer. She paid them a million dollars."

"But it doesn't make sense!" Ashley exclaimed. "Scarlet loved Dad! Why would she…?"

Doyle nodded. "I can't speak to her motives yet. If I had to guess, it would be revenge against Arthur for choosing you to succeed him as Chairperson of Palmer Industries. Either way, the evidence is damning—more than enough for a conviction. Should I call the cops?"

Ashley's mind raced, calculations replacing grief with terrifying speed. Her face had gone unreadable. "No. Not yet, Harry." Her voice was flat, controlled. "Do you have a backup of the video and the data?"

"Of course I do."

Ashley scrambled out of the Prius. "Send me the video by email and delete everything else. If this gets leaked to Palmer Industries' competitors, the entire company will topple within hours. The court reinstated me as Chairperson today, and I need to preserve Dad's legacy."

Doyle protested at first but eventually agreed. Ashley thanked him, paid him, and hailed an Uber.

"I'll hold on to the data till midnight, just in case you change your mind!" Doyle called after her, but Ashley was barely listening. Her eyes were on the approaching taxi.

"Take me to Palmer Estate," she told the driver. On her way, Ashley texted Jake.

[Ashley: The court has reinstated me as Chairperson of Palmer Industries. I'll take back everything you took from me.]

[Jake: It's a temporary order. Scarlet and I will make sure the verdict gets overturned.]

[Ashley: Did you know Scarlet killed my father? Do you want to be in business with a criminal like her? Do you want to join her in prison?]

[Jake: What nonsense is this? Do you have any proof?]

[Ashley: I have evidence! Come to Dad's place if you want to know the truth!]