Running a small grocery shop in Portland had been my life’s work for over a decade. Every shelf, label, and product felt like an extension of myself. My employees weren’t just staff — they were family. But that trust began to crumble the day I realized something strange was happening.
It started small — a few missing bags of gourmet coffee, a block of imported cheese gone from the fridge. I chalked it up to inventory errors or perhaps a misplaced box. But soon, the pattern became undeniable: only the most expensive items were disappearing.
I felt sick. Was someone I trusted stealing from me?
I gathered the team in the breakroom, doing my best to stay calm. “We’ve had some high-value items vanish,” I said. “I’m sure it’s a mistake, but please, double-check everything.”
The looks I got in return were a mix of confusion and hurt. Claire, my assistant manager, asked quietly, “You don’t think one of us did it, do you?”
I didn’t want to. But the facts were piling up — and I couldn’t ignore them.
Within a week, more items vanished. My frustration boiled over. I spent hours reviewing our security footage, desperate for a clue. But there was nothing. No one looked suspicious.
Out of options, I took the recordings to the police. That’s when Detective Harris called me in to review something they’d found — and what I saw nearly made my heart stop.