Chương 9
They entered the elevator.
A man from accounting stepped in on the third floor.
He looked at Daniel, then at Laura.
His face changed slightly.
He looked away.
The elevator doors opened before Daniel could decide if he cared.
The records department was quieter than usual.
Not empty.
Just quieter.
People spoke in low voices.
Phones rang and stopped.
Printers moved constantly.
The ordinary sounds of an office trying to pretend nothing had changed.
Laura led him past the main work area.
"Who are we meeting?"
"Someone who hates being involved."
"That narrows it down."
A small smile appeared on her face.
Then it vanished.
They stopped outside a supply room.
Laura knocked twice.
A few seconds passed.
Then the door opened.
Ethan Cole looked out.
His expression changed when he saw Daniel.
Not surprise.
Something closer to concern.
"What are you doing here?"
Laura stepped forward.
"We need help."
Ethan looked at Daniel.
"That sentence usually means someone is about to make my day worse."
Daniel studied him.
Ethan looked different from how he remembered.
Less confident.
More tired.
There were dark circles beneath his eyes.
His shirt was wrinkled.
The top button was undone.
"I didn't know you had a secret office in a supply closet," Daniel said.
Ethan glanced behind him.
"I don't."
"Then why are you hiding in one?"
"I am not hiding."
Daniel raised an eyebrow.
Ethan sighed.
"Okay."
He stepped aside.
"Maybe a little."
The room was barely large enough for three people.
Boxes lined one wall.
Old monitors sat stacked near a broken printer.
Laura closed the door.
Ethan looked at Daniel.
"I heard about your suspension."
Daniel waited.
"From who?"
"Everyone."
That answer was honest enough to hurt.
"Everyone talks fast here."
"They talk faster when people are afraid."
Daniel noticed the way Ethan said it.
Not like an observation.
Like experience.
"You know something."
Ethan looked at Laura.
Then back at Daniel.
"I know a lot of people know something."
"That's not the same."
"No."
Ethan rubbed his face.
"But it is usually how these things start."
Daniel crossed his arms.
"What things?"
Ethan looked toward the door.
"People looking for one person to blame."
Nobody spoke.
The printer outside made a loud mechanical sound.
Then stopped.
Ethan lowered his voice.
"I saw your access request."
Daniel's eyes narrowed.
"When?"
"Five days before everything happened."
"Why didn't you say anything?"
Ethan gave a humorless laugh.
"To who?"
"Your supervisor."
"Marcus?"
The way he said the name answered before his words did.
"You don't trust him."
Ethan looked at him.
"I don't trust anyone who smiles before delivering bad news."
Laura glanced at him.
"That is a very specific complaint."
"Because it is a very specific thing he does."
Daniel ignored the comment.
"What did you see?"
Ethan walked to a desk covered with old paperwork.
He moved several folders aside.
Then he stopped.
"No."
Daniel frowned.
"What?"
"I can't show you that."
"Why?"
"Because if I show you and someone finds out, I lose my job."
Daniel stared at him.
"And you think I don't already understand that?"
Ethan looked uncomfortable.
"No."
"Then why bring it up?"
"Because you still have a job you might get back."
The room went quiet.
Daniel felt the sentence settle.
Ethan looked away.
"I don't."
That was the first thing Ethan said that sounded personal.
Daniel had spent years seeing him as arrogant.
Difficult.
Annoying.
He had never considered afraid.
"What happened?"
Ethan pulled out a chair and sat down.
"My review was changed."
Laura frowned.
"When?"
"Two months ago."
"Changed by who?"
Ethan looked at the floor.
"Someone removed comments about my accuracy."
Daniel remembered.
Ethan's mistake.
The report.
The correction.
"You think this is connected?"
"I think someone has been cleaning records."
Daniel looked at Laura.
She looked back at him.
The same thought appeared between them without either saying it.
Someone was not creating evidence.
Someone was preparing the environment.
"What did they remove?" Daniel asked.
Ethan hesitated.
"My warnings."
"About what?"
"About unusual claim adjustments."
The room became still.
"How unusual?"
Ethan looked at him.
"Unusual enough that I stopped signing off on them."
Daniel felt a chill.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
Ethan gave a small, bitter smile.
"Because you were busy correcting everyone else's work."
Daniel did not answer.
The criticism was fair.
Not completely.
But fair enough.
Ethan opened a drawer.
Inside were printed emails.
"I saved copies."
Daniel looked at him.
"Why?"
"Because I don't trust systems that let people delete history."
He handed one page over.
The email was from three months earlier.
A request to review several client adjustments.
The sender was Ethan.
The recipient was Marcus Hale.
The response was short.
Handled.
No explanation.
No details.
Nothing else.
Daniel looked at the date.
Three months.
Before his name appeared on the access request.
Before the suspension.
Before the photograph.
A pattern was forming.
But it was not the pattern he expected.
"Marcus knew," Laura whispered.
Ethan shook his head.
"Maybe."
Daniel looked up.
"Maybe?"
"Knowing something is not the same as causing something."
That sentence stopped him.
Because it was exactly what he would have said to someone else.
The evidence was pointing somewhere.
But pointing was not proving.
Daniel folded the paper carefully.
"What else do you have?"
Ethan looked toward the door.
Then back at him.
"One thing."
"What?"
"A reason someone would need you blamed instead of the company."
Daniel waited.
Ethan reached into the drawer again.
This time, he pulled out a small envelope.
He placed it on the desk.
"I found this yesterday morning."
Daniel looked at the envelope.
"Why didn't you open it?"
Ethan looked embarrassed.
"Because my name was not on it."
"Whose was it?"
Ethan pushed it toward him.
"Yours."
Daniel stared at the envelope.
For a few seconds, he did not touch it.
The room felt smaller than it had a moment earlier.
May you like
Not because of what might be inside.
Because of what it meant that someone had left something for him and Ethan had been too afraid to open it.
