Chapter 4 - The Stranger Watching Me Had Been Following Me for Months—And Belle Recognized Him Before Harlan DidThe photograph showed a middle-aged man.

Thin face.

Dark coat.

Small scar beside his mouth.

Harlan stared.

"I know him."

"Who?"

"Vincent Keller."

"Who is that?"

"Former family driver."

"Former?"

"He disappeared five years ago."

Belle whispered:

"He had Ms. Grant."

Harlan looked at her.

"You saw him?"

She nodded.

"He was there."

"Where?"

"At the garage."

He clenched his jaw.

Then he turned toward me.

"Why would Keller be watching you?"

"I don't know."

"Have you met him before?"

"No."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

He studied me.

"I believe you."

That surprised me.

Then security found something else.

Keller had been renting a storage unit near my restaurant.

Inside were photographs.

Of me.

Of Belle.

Of Harlan.

And one photograph of the Voss mansion.

The date was six months earlier.

Someone had been planning this for a long time.

We searched the storage unit.

A folder contained Belle's medical records.

Her heart condition.

Medication.

Emergency contacts.

And one photograph of me.

The same photograph from outside my restaurant.

I stared.

"Why me?"

Harlan was silent.

Then a note fell from the folder.

THE GIRL WILL TRUST THE STRANGER.

My blood went cold.

"The girl."

Harlan looked at the note.

"Belle."

The plan had been bigger than a kidnapping.

Someone had chosen me before I ever met her.

But why?

The security chief found another line.

She must be innocent.

I laughed bitterly.

"That's flattering."

Harlan didn't smile.

The note continued:

She must be desperate.

My stomach dropped.

They had chosen me because I was broke.

Because I was alone.

Because no one would miss me.

Because if something happened to me while saving Belle, no one powerful would investigate.

I looked at Harlan.

"They chose me."

He nodded.

"Yes."

"Why?"

"To be the perfect witness."

"Witness to what?"

He didn't answer.

Then the security chief brought us the final file.

A family photograph.

Harlan.

Lydia.

Mrs. Grant.

Keller.

And a fifth person.

I recognized her.

My restaurant manager.

Mrs. Campbell.

I stared.

"No."

Harlan looked at me.

"You know her?"

"She kept me late the night I found Belle."

His face changed.

The night had been planned.

My missing bus.

The shortcut.

The parking garage.

Everything.

My manager hadn't simply delayed me.

She had sent me into the garage.

I felt sick.

Someone had engineered the meeting.

Harlan's voice became very quiet.

"They wanted you to find her."

I looked at Belle.

She was sleeping.

"They needed a witness."

"Yes."

"But why?"

Harlan looked at the family photograph.

"Because whoever planned this wanted someone outside my world to discover what was happening."

"That still doesn't explain why Belle had to nearly die."

"No."

He stared at the photograph.

"It explains why someone wanted me to think she had."

Then Lydia appeared in the doorway.

She looked exhausted.

"I know who did it."

Harlan turned.

"Who?"

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She whispered:

"Our father."