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no evidence of his existence. The idea of Tarbell getting paid while she had to live under a constant cloud of doubt brought a sour taste to the back of her throat. She washed it away with another sip of water.
    “The truth of the matter is,” Ingram said, “we don’t have a clear-cut case.”
    “What?”
    “From the brief explanation Deborah gave me, there are no witnesses to the assault. Correct?”
    A sinking feeling pulled at Gwen’s insides. She saw where this was going. “No. No witnesses.”
    “That leaves us with a case of he said/she said.”
    “Are you saying you don’t believe me?” Gwen didn’t try to hide her contempt.
    Deborah sat kitty-corner to Gwen and she pressed a hand on top of hers in an attempt at a comforting gesture. “No one is saying that. We believe you. I’ve seen what he’s done to you, but we can’t prove it.”
    “Everyone knows he’s a hothead.”
    “So we have a man with a shortfuse,” Ingram said. “That doesn’t mean he’s capable of premeditated violence.”
    A short fuse? The words were an insult to Gwen after what Tarbell had done last night.
    Ingram paused and exchanged an awkward glance with Deborah. This meeting was obviously not going as planned.
    “I hoped to nip this situation in the bud.” Ingram picked up a remote and switched on the TV at the end of the room. “Most people don’t think their strategy through, and I hoped the security cameras would pick the assault up.” He pressed play.
    The image on the screen was split into four simultaneous images. The top left image captured a static view from inside the foyer. The top right caught the main walk from the parking lot. The bottom left took up where the second camera left off with a view of the parking lot. Unlike the first two cameras, this one panned back and forth to take in a panoramic view, but it failed to capture the entire lot. The image on the bottom right corner of the screen took up the slack. This caught the blind spots the other cameras missed.
    Gwen’s heart skipped when she appeared in the top left box on the screen silently saying good-bye to the security guard before disappearing from view. The second camera picked her up and recorded her progress until she passed out of view. The bottom left and right cameras caught her in their sweeps but then lost her. Gwen couldn’t believe it. But sure enough, it seemed that the trash enclosure provided the perfect blind spot. The two cameras failed to pick up anything happening beyond the trash enclosure.
    Precious seconds ticked by on the time code on the screen. Gwen relived those seconds—the impact, the knife, Tarbell’s crushing weight, and the threat—and the cameras were blind to it all. She felt sick.
    “Nothing happens now,” Ingram said and pressed fast forward.
    He was wrong. Plenty had happened,but all out of sight of the useless cameras.
    Ingram fast-forwarded through the recording until Gwen’s Subaru pulled away with the security guard chasing behind her. At no time did Tarbell appear on camera, although he’d long since run off by the time she raced away from the scene. It looked to the world as if she left the office, sat in her car for thirty minutes, then left.
    “I’ve watched every minute of coverage from five p.m. through to you leaving, and Stephen Tarbell never features except when he left the building at two minutes after five. At no point does he return.”
    But he had. Gwen had bruises on her back and chest and a cut under her chin to prove it. She looked from Ingram to Deborah. They had to doubt her. Who wouldn’t? She hoped to God they didn’t think she was just another crazy broad in the workplace, ruining it for smart women everywhere. She couldn’t read their expressions to tell whether or not they believed her.
    “It happened,” she said in a quiet, yet desperate voice.
    “I didn’t say it didn’t,” Ingram said and rewound the tape back. “The camera never lies, but it can be deceived. The