Page 123 of A Lethal Game of Trust
“I’ll cut to the chase. Your security system was hacked into and disarmed the night Luís was killed. It wascut off for hours and hours. About forty minutes before you said you heard noises.”
But I already knew our system had failed that night. I’d been told it was hacked.
“But they didn’t check the security before that night,” he said. “They were still new those kinds of systems. But Dom’s kept everything in that house so pristine—”
“Dom has? Not Ivan?”
Derek frowned at me. “Dom’s been the one looking after it all.”
My heart swelled.
“Anyway, the security was turned off six days prior, around eleven at night. Turned back on two hours later, the exact same way.”
But Dom had been looking at the clips in the lead up. He would have got to six days before…
“The date?”
“29th of June.”
And, even then, I knew it. I remembered it. A day I had held onto for weeks that year. Dom’s last exam.
When he had come over at midnight, Dad hadn’t caught him like he had the last night we went to the cove.
Because he had turned off the security system.
Then did so the week later, when he said he was supposedly coming over to tell me he loved me.
He had helped my dad set the system up because he was apparently worried about me after the kidnap attempt.
Apparently. Supposedly.
But Dom loved me.
He cared for me.
“Right,” I said slowly and didn’t thank the barkeep whenthey gave me a stronger drink. I knew they had pictures of us Belovs at the back with our favourite drinks, under strict instructions for us to never be without one.
I wanted to hurl the unlimited beverages at Dom’s head, one after the other.
“What is it?” Derek asked eagerly. “What have you remembered?”
“I, er, I need a minute,” I breathed, sliding off the stool only to walk straight into Dom’s wide chest.
“You okay, babe?” he asked, straightening me as the room spun.
“I need… Come with me.”
So I grabbed his hand just as other people started to arrive at the entryway and rushed him into one of the painting exhibits.
I stood before him, trying to calm my breathing.
His eyes were wide as he bent to look directly into mine. His voice shook as he asked, “Leo, what—what is it? You’re worrying me.”
There was a way I could pretend this had never happened. I could go to the toilet, splash water on my face and plaster on a fake smile for the rest of my life. But I lifted my head up high and said, “That night, you were the one who turned off the security cameras, weren’t you?”
His face said it all. He blinked once, his mouth parted. Words didn’t come from his lips, though it wasn’t for lack of trying. His chest rose with an inhale that should have pushed out a denial; his lips came together to help, but there was a disconnect.
Because everything that could come out of his mouth would be a lie.
