Not A Small-Town Girl

Chapter 71

"Any updates on the hotel footage from four years ago?" Danielle asked.

Emery sighed. "I was just about to tell you. The footage is pretty old, and the cameras were messed up. I managed to pull it up, but the restoration didn’t work."

He sounded almost defeated. Despite his top-notch skills on the Black Web, even Emery couldn’t fix a piece of footage as damaged as this.

Danielle tapped her fingers lightly against the desk, her gaze never leaving him. "Send me what you’ve got. And take Benjamin to the police."

"Got it," Emery replied, turning to go.

"I’m heading out of the country tomorrow. I’ll be gone for a week. If anything comes up, call me," Danielle added.

Emery’s lips curled into a mischievous grin. "I saw you with a guy earlier... in the car..."

Danielle’s eyes narrowed. She’d known Emery was the biggest gossip in the office. With a resigned sigh, she replied, "You are mistaken."

His grin only widened. "Oh, I understand. Don’t worry, I won’t say anything."

Danielle shot him a pointed look. "Then go do what you’re supposed to do."

"Yeah, yeah. I’m going," he said with a mock salute.

Danielle turned back to her computer, her focus immediately snapping into place. Her fingers flew over the keyboard with practiced precision, each tap syncing with the rhythm of her thoughts. The movements were quick, and effortless, like a well- rehearsed dance.

The code on the screen shifted with every stroke, data flashing by like fleeting stars in the night sky. For anyone else, it would be dizzying to follow. But for Danielle, it was second nature. Her mind raced, working through the restoration of the damaged video as she extracted the details she needed. She was entirely absorbed in the task, the lines of code speeding across the screen as she solved the puzzle.

With one final press of the "Enter" key, the video clicked back into place.

The first clip showed a young woman, dressed in the hotel’s staff uniform, sweeping the hallway.

And then, Joseph appeared, his face flushed from alcohol, his movements slow and unsteady.

The girl noticed his condition and hurried toward him, her voice soft and concerned. "Sir, you’re drunk. Do you need help?"

Joseph looked up, meeting her eyes. They were wide and bright, full of innocence.

In an instant, Joseph realized something wasn’t right. Even with his poor tolerance for alcohol, a single drink shouldn’t have left him feeling this dizzy. It was as if all the blood in his body had