The Nanny Pointed at Our Dog — Then His Vest Camera Revealed the Truth — Part 2 of 3

The Footage That Changed Everything

Courtney didn't leave. She stood in the middle of the nursery, her arms crossed, her eyes darting between me and the door. "You can't fire me, Samuel. I'll sue you for defamation. A dog vest camera? That's not even legal."

I laughed — a short, bitter sound. "It's my property. My house. My dog. And that camera has already caught you in a lie."

She paled again. "That footage doesn't prove anything. I was just... taking a call. The gate must have blown open."

"The gate doesn't blow open," I said. "It has a latch. And the video shows your hand pushing it."

Leo tugged at my sleeve. "Daddy, what's happening?"

I knelt down, keeping my voice calm. "You're going to stay with Cooper, okay? I need to handle something."

I led Courtney into the kitchen, away from Leo's ears. The second we were out of sight, her mask slipped. "Listen, I didn't mean for him to get near the road. I just... I got distracted. It won't happen again."

"It won't happen again because you're done here," I said. "But I want to know why the footage shows you looking at your phone while Leo was wandering. And why you didn't call him back."

She crossed her arms. "I didn't see him."

"The camera did," I shot back. "And it also saw you propping the gate open with that brick. The one you'd hidden behind the hydrangea bush."

Her face went white. "I—"

"Don't." I held up the tablet. "I've already called the police. They're on their way."

For a moment, she just stared at me. Then something shifted in her eyes — a cold, calculating gleam. "You think you're so smart, don't you? But you don't know anything. You don't know what I was doing here."

"Enlighten me."

She smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes. "You're not the only one with cameras, Samuel. I've been watching you too. And I know things about your wife that you don't."

My heart skipped a beat. "What are you talking about?"

"Ask her about the insurance policy," Courtney said, turning toward the door. "The one she took out on Leo last month."

I grabbed her arm. "What?"

"Let go of me." She yanked free, her voice dropping to a whisper. "I'm not the villain here. But if you call the police, I'll tell them everything. And I'll make sure your precious dog is put down for attacking me."

The threat hung in the air like smoke. I wanted to shake her, to scream, but I forced myself to stay calm. "You're lying."

"Am I?" She pulled out her own phone and swiped to a photo. It was a screenshot of a bank statement — a payment to an insurance company, made from an account with my wife's name.

My mind raced. My wife, Emily, had been acting strange for weeks. Distant. Nervous. She'd been spending more time on her phone, and she'd snapped at me when I asked about it.

"This doesn't prove anything," I said, but my voice wavered.

"It proves your wife wanted Leo dead," Courtney said. "And she hired me to make it look like an accident. The open gate. The dog. The whole setup."

I felt the floor tilt beneath me. "You're insane."

"Check the camera," she said, nodding at the tablet. "There's a second angle. The one from the nursery monitor. I made sure it was recording."

I pulled up the feed. There it was — a clear view of Emily, my wife, standing at the gate just minutes before Leo wandered out. She was holding the brick. She looked at her watch. Then she walked away.

My hand shook as I set the tablet down. "Why?"

Courtney shrugged. "Money. Power. Maybe she just wanted a fresh start. You should ask her yourself."

She walked out the front door, and I was too stunned to stop her. The police arrived minutes later, but by then, she was gone.

I turned to find Leo standing in the hallway, Cooper at his side. "Daddy, where's Mommy?"

I knelt down, pulling him close. "I don't know, buddy. But I'm going to find out."