Chapter 6 - The Reflection

Camila pointed at the screen.

"There."

Nolan paused the video.

The reflection was distorted, but the color was obvious.

Cream.

Victoria slowly turned toward Bianca.

Bianca looked down at her own pantsuit.

Then she laughed.

"You cannot be serious. Half the women here are wearing beige."

"Cream," Victoria said.

"What?"

"Your assistant called it winter cream when she posted your outfit this afternoon."

Bianca stared at her.

Victoria folded her arms. "I follow you."

For once, Camila was grateful for social media.

Rafael held out his hand to Nolan. "Send me that clip."

Bianca's jaw tightened. "This has gone far enough."

"Not even close," Camila said.

Her phone rang.

Mateo.

She answered immediately. "Where are you?"

"Parking garage. Level four."

His breathing was ragged.

"Are you hurt?"

"No. Listen to me. Bianca has been routing vendor payments through a shell company called Vela Hospitality Consulting."

Camila put the call on speaker.

Bianca went white.

Mateo continued. "I found duplicate invoices. Bakery, flowers, lighting, rentals. Every vendor got paid the real amount, but the Salazars were billed thirty to sixty percent more."

Rafael's face became stone.

"How much?" he asked.

Mateo heard the voice and hesitated. "Mr. Salazar?"

"How much money?"

"Across this event? At least eighty-four thousand dollars."

Elena gasped.

Victoria whispered, "Bianca..."

Bianca stepped backward. "This is insane."

Mateo's voice came through the phone. "Camila, she knows I copied the records."

"Where are the copies?"

"I emailed them to myself, but somebody got into my account. I have one flash drive."

Camila turned toward the service doors.

"I'm coming up."

"No. Don't. There's someone in the garage."

A car horn blared through the phone.

Mateo cursed.

Then came running footsteps.

"Mateo?"

"Camila, if I don't make it downstairs, the drive is inside - "

The call cut out.

Camila ran.

This time no one tried to stop her.

Nolan and two security guards followed. Rafael came too until Elena grabbed his arm.

"Rafa, no."

He looked at Camila. "Bring your brother back."

The elevator felt impossibly slow.

Camila took the stairs instead.

Four flights up, her lungs burned.

She shoved open the parking garage door.

Cold concrete air hit her face.

"Mateo!"

No answer.

A dark sedan squealed around the far corner and shot down the ramp.

Camila ran toward a row of parked cars.

She found Mateo's phone on the ground.

Its screen was cracked.

Beside it lay one of his sneakers.

And across the hood of a black SUV, someone had written in the dust with one finger:

STOP DIGGING.

Then Camila heard a weak knock.

From inside the SUV's trunk.

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