Chasing His Kickass Luna Back Chapter 217

Abby

I can’t believe what I’m seeing.

The footage from Mr. Caldwell’s gallery security cameras clearly shows a hooded figure walking toward the side door of my restaurant on the night of the Alpha party. But on my own CCTV footage, at the exact same time, the figure just keeps walking down the street.

This doesn’t make any sense.

I’ve been sitting in my living room, replaying the footage from both cameras—mine and Mr. Caldwell’s—over and over, trying to make sense of it.

The discrepancy between the two clips is glaring, and I can’t shake the feeling that something sinister is at play here. It’s as if someone deliberately tampered with the footage.

Frustration gnaws at me as I continue to review the footage. I wish I could figure this out on my own, but it’s clear that I need some technical help if I’m going to get to the bottom of this. I grab my coat and the USB drive containing the footage and head out of my apartment for what feels like the millionth time today.

As I make my way to a nearby computer store, my mind races with questions.

Who is that hooded figure, and what were they doing near the side door of my restaurant? Could they be connected to the food poisoning incidents and the other strange occurrences that have plagued my business?

I push open the door to the computer store and approach the counter, where a young man wearing a beanie is busy helping another customer. I wait patiently until it’s my turn, my heart pounding with anticipation.

When it’s finally my turn, I place the USB drive on the counter and clear my throat. “Excuse me,”I say, trying to keep my voice steady, “I need some help with this footage. I think it might have been tampered with.”

The young man, whose name tag reads ‘Colin,’ looks at me with a curious expression. “Tampered?” he asks.

I nod. “Can you please just take a look?” I ask. “I figure maybe someone here could be able to tell if it’s been changed.”

He gives me a sideways look, but finally nods. “Uh, sure thing,” he says, taking the USB drive and plugging it into the beat-up laptop that’s sitting on the counter. “I guess I could look.”

I watch anxiously as Colin opens the footage and begins to review it. I tell him the time stamp, and he fast-forwards through the recording until he reaches the part where the hooded figure appears. I hold my breath, hoping that he’ll be able to see something, anything.

After a few moments, Colin stops the playback and turns to me, his eyes wide with surprise. “You’re right,” he says. “There’s definitely something off about this footage.”

I let out a sigh of relief, grateful that someone else can see the discrepancy. “Can you tell what happened?” I ask.

Colin nods and points to a specific portion of the footage, the part where the hooded figure stops, looks around, and then keeps walking. “See here,” he says, “it looks like a chunk of time was cut out. See that jump cut there?”

I lean forward, squinting. Colin rewinds the moment a few times so I can see, and sure enough, there it is: a brief flicker in the tape, a moment where the hooded figure’s movements don’t quite make sense. It looks like a glitch, almost.

My heart sinks as I realize the implications of this. “So, you’re saying that someone intentionally tampered with the footage?” I ask, my voice trembling.

Colin hesitates for a moment before responding. “It’s possible,” he says, then pauses, looking me up and down. “You’re Abby, right?”

I nod.

“I’ve heard about your scandal in the news,” he explains, “and this raises some serious concerns. You should consider taking this to the police. That’s all I’m gonna say, though.”

His words send a chill down my spine. The police.

“I’ll do just that,” I say, taking my USB back. “Thank you.”

“No problem,” Colin says.

With a new sense of determination, I head out of the store and begin hurrying down the street, straight toward the nearest police station. I have to show them the footage; surely they’ll be able to do something, right?

As I’m walking, my phone rings, and I hesitate for a moment before answering when I see the caller ID.

It’s Leah.

“Hello?” I say, my voice a bit hesitant.

“Abby…” Leah’s voice is filled with concern. “How are you holding up?”

I take a deep breath, trying to sound as composed as possible. “I’m holding up just fine,” I reply, although the truth is far from that. “In fact, I’m going to the police right now.”

“The police?” Leah sounds even more concerned now. “Why?”

“I found something in my CCTV footage,” I say. “Something that will exonerate me. I’m sure of it.”

There’s a brief silence on the other end of the line, and I can almost hear the gears turning in Leah’s head. “What did you find?” she finally asks, her tone cautious.

I explain what I saw in the footage—the hooded figure walking up the alleyway on the night of the Alpha gathering. I’m convinced that this person must have broken in and contaminated the food, but the footage from my restaurant’s cameras has clearly been tampered with.

Leah doesn’t say anything, just listens, and I can almost imagine the expression on her face as she processes the information. She says nothing for a long time.

My heart sinks as realization dawns on me. Chloe must have thought I was acting frantic. I can’t blame her for being concerned, but it still stings.

“Chloe asked you to call me, didn’t she?” I ask, my voice betraying a hint of frustration.

Leah hesitates for a moment before answering. “Yes, she did. She called me yesterday and said that you seemed really upset and that you were trying to handle everything by yourself. I’m worried about you, Abby.”

I can feel my anger simmering just beneath the surface. It’s as if my friends think I’m going crazy, that I’m incapable of handling this situation on my own. But I know what I saw in that footage, and I refuse to be dismissed.

“I’m not crazy, Leah,” I say, my voice trembling with frustration. “I know this was sabotage. I can’t just sit back and let the health department and the Alpha gathering managers handle it. They might not get to the bottom of this.”

Leah tries to calm me down, her voice gentle and soothing. “Abby, I know you’re not crazy. I believe you. But maybe itisbest to let them handle this. Maybe it’s better if you just… stay out of it.”

I feel a surge of anger and disappointment. It feels as though no one believes me, like I’m on a wavelength all of my own.

“But I have to do something,” I say, my voice determined. “I can’t just wait around and hope for the best.”

Leah sighs. “I get it, Abby. I really do. But maybe you should take a step back and think about it. Sometimes, it’s better to just let the professionals handle things.”

I know I’m being stubborn, but her words still cut deep. This is my livelihood, my reputation, and I can’t just stand by idly and watch it crumble right in front of me.

“Thanks for your concern, Leah,” I say, my voice colder than I intended. “But I need to do what I think is right.”

Before Leah can respond, I hang up the phone, my frustration boiling over. I know my friends mean well, but I can’t let their doubts and concerns deter me. I have to uncover the truth and clear my name, no matter what it takes.

And so, with the police station coming into view, I steel my resolve and clutch the USB just a little tighter.