Eleanor Hayes was standing nearby in an elegant black suit.
She turned toward me.
“Who destroyed it?”
“My sister.”
I expected sympathy.
Instead, she asked a practical question.
“Was your sister authorized to be in the restricted backstage area?”
That was when something clicked in my mind.
Security cameras.
Six months earlier, a musician’s bow had been stolen backstage.
Afterward, the foundation had installed high-definition cameras throughout the dressing-room corridor.
“I invited my family to the performance,” I said. “But they weren’t authorized to enter secured areas.”
Eleanor turned toward the head of security.
“Preserve all footage.”
Applause sounded from the auditorium.
Seven minutes until I was due onstage.
Then Vanessa appeared at the far end of the hallway.
Wearing my emerald dress.
She walked toward us as though absolutely nothing had happened.
“There you are,” she said. “Mom said we should take pictures before you embarrass yourself.”
Then she noticed Eleanor.
Her entire demeanor changed.
Vanessa had always been extremely good at recognizing people who might be useful to her.
Her smile became warmer.
Her posture straightened.
“Oh my God. Ms. Hayes?”
Eleanor gave her a restrained nod.
Vanessa immediately reached out her hand.
“I’m Vanessa Miller. Founder of Velle Fashion.”
I nearly laughed.
Velle Fashion was Vanessa’s online luxury clothing company.
For months, she had been telling anyone who would listen that a New York investment firm was considering putting two million dollars into the business.
She believed the deal would transform her company.
What she didn’t know was that the investment group was called Meridian Ventures.
And Eleanor Hayes controlled it.
Eleanor glanced at the emerald dress.
“Velle Fashion?”
“Yes,” Vanessa said brightly. “We’re actually in the final stages of an investment review with Meridian.”
