Chương 4
“Who told you?”
“Lena.”
“Why?”
Tyler shrugged.
“That’s the thing about offices.”
“What?”
“Everyone knows something.”
He looked toward the courthouse entrance.
“But nobody knows enough.”
Daniel studied him.
“You saw something.”
Tyler looked uncomfortable.
“I saw people talking.”
“That’s not the same.”
“No.”
Tyler lowered his voice.
“But I saw Mara arguing with someone.”
“Who?”
Tyler glanced around.
A few people were walking past them.
He waited until they were farther away.
“Greg Halden.”
Daniel felt his stomach tighten.
Greg Halden had been the developer behind Rivergate.
He had spent years insisting the project was misunderstood.
He had also spent years saying Daniel was one of the few officials who treated him fairly.
“When?” Daniel asked.
“Two weeks ago.”
“Where?”
“Here.”
Tyler pointed toward the courthouse.
“They were in the parking garage.”
“What were they arguing about?”
“I don’t know.”
“You heard something.”
Tyler looked down.
“I heard your name.”
Daniel waited.
“And?”
Tyler swallowed.
“He said, ‘If Mercer opens that file, everything falls apart.’”
Daniel felt the words settle heavier than they should have.
“Everything falls apart,” he repeated.
Tyler nodded once.
“I know how it sounds.”
“It sounds like he was talking about the file.”
“I thought that too.”
“What else did you hear?”
“Nothing.”
Daniel watched him carefully.
Tyler looked away toward the street.
It was the kind of movement people made when they were deciding whether honesty was worth the trouble it would create.
“Tyler.”
“I left.”
“You left?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because I have rent.”
The answer was so ordinary that Daniel almost missed its importance.
Tyler was not trying to be brave.
He was trying to keep his life from collapsing.
“I should have said something earlier,” Tyler said.
“Why didn’t you?”
Tyler gave a small laugh.
“Because people who say things at the wrong time usually become part of the story.”
Daniel looked at him.
“You already are.”
Tyler tightened his grip on the box.
“I know.”
A car horn sounded behind them.
Neither man moved.
For a moment, they stood there in the middle of the courthouse parking lot with hundreds of small decisions happening around them.
People opened doors.
Phones rang.
Someone complained about a parking ticket.
A woman nearby struggled with a broken umbrella even though there was no rain.
The world continued without caring that Daniel’s name was attached to something he did not do.
“Did Greg see you?” Daniel asked.
Tyler shook his head.
“No.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m sure.”
“Why?”
“Because if he saw me, I wouldn’t still be standing here.”
Daniel did not like how calm Tyler sounded when he said it.
Not because Tyler was wrong.
Because he sounded like someone who had already accepted that fear was part of his daily routine.
“Do you have anything else?” Daniel asked.
Tyler looked at the box in his hands.
“My old desk plant.”
Daniel blinked.
“What?”
Tyler opened the box slightly.
A small plastic container with a dying green plant sat beside some folders and a stapler.
“I forgot it was there.”
Daniel stared at it.
“You carried a plant out of a government building while telling me someone might be framing me.”
Tyler shrugged.
“It’s been there four years.”
“That’s your concern?”
“No.”
Tyler looked at him.
“But it was something I could actually control.”
The answer stayed with Daniel longer than he expected.
He had spent the last day trying to control things that were already moving.
The investigation.
The records.
The rumors.
The people deciding what kind of person he was before he had a chance to speak.
A small plant was easier.
A small plant did not accuse anyone.
“Send me everything you remember,” Daniel said.
Tyler hesitated.
“Email?”
“Yes.”
“Personal email or work?”
Daniel almost laughed.
“Personal.”
Tyler nodded.
Then he lowered his voice.
“Daniel.”
“What?”
“If you find out who did this, don’t assume they did it because they hate you.”
Daniel frowned.
“What does that mean?”
Tyler shifted the box against his chest.
“Sometimes people destroy someone because they need something from them.”
Before Daniel could ask another question, Tyler walked toward the employee parking area.
Daniel stayed where he was.
He watched the box disappear through the courthouse doors.
He hated that the smallest details were starting to matter.
He hated even more that Tyler might be right.
When Daniel reached his office later that morning, the atmosphere had changed.
Nobody told him anything.
That was how he knew.
People were careful around him now.
They stopped conversations when he approached.
They looked at their screens too quickly.
They offered polite smiles that disappeared before they reached their eyes.
He had spent years learning how institutions communicated without words.
Silence was one of the loudest languages.
Lena was standing near the records department when he walked in.
She held a folder against her chest.
“Daniel.”
Her voice sounded prepared.
That worried him.
“Lena.”
“I need to ask you something.”
“Okay.”
She looked around before continuing.
“Are you still working on Rivergate?”
Daniel studied her face.
“Why?”
“Just answer.”
“No.”
The response came quickly.
“Not officially.”
“Not unofficially?”
He almost asked why she cared.
Instead, he waited.
Lena looked uncomfortable.
That was unusual.
Lena was one of the most controlled people he knew.
She could reject a request without sounding cruel.
She could deliver bad news without changing her expression.
Seeing uncertainty on her face made him more nervous than anger would have.
“I saw you with Mara,” she said.
“Everyone saw me with Mara.”
“Not everyone knows what she found.”
Daniel looked at her.
“You know?”
“I know enough.”
“That’s not helpful.”
“It’s not supposed to be.”
The answer irritated him.
“What does that mean?”
Lena sighed.
“It means you are asking the wrong person the wrong question.”
“Then give me the right one.”
She looked toward the records room.
“Why did someone reopen Rivergate?”
Daniel felt his shoulders tighten.
“You don’t know?”
“No.”
May you like
“Then why ask me?”
“Because your name is the only thing connecting the past and the present.”
