Chương 13
“Clean shirt.”
“Thank you.”
“You smell like vending-machine coffee.”
“That’s specific.”
“I have a nose.”
Nora’s shoulders moved with silent laughter.
Pain caught her immediately.
Mrs. Alvarez pointed at her.
“No laughing.”
Nora rolled her eyes.
“Also no eye rolling.”
Nora rolled them again.
“Good.”
Mrs. Alvarez smiled.
“That means you’re still you.”
David stepped into the small bathroom to change.
He stared at himself in the mirror.
His hair had flattened on one side.
There was dried blood on his cuff that was not his.
He ran cold water over his hands.
For several seconds he simply stood there listening to Mrs. Alvarez talk to Nora through the door about a neighbor’s dog digging beneath the fence again.
A dog.
A fence.
Scrambled eggs.
The world insisting on itself.
His phone vibrated on the counter.
Cole.
David answered quietly.
“What happened?”
“I’ve been placed on administrative leave.”
David closed his eyes.
“Paid?”
“For now.”
“Reason?”
“Failure to follow supervisory direction.”
“That fast?”
“Apparently efficiency exists when properly motivated.”
“Attorney?”
“My union is sending one.”
“Good.”
Cole sighed.
“I hate that you keep being right.”
“I’m not right.”
“About what?”
“This could still be ordinary internal discipline.”
“Do you believe that?”
“No.”
“Neither do I.”
David dried his hands.
“Who has the case?”
“Detective Laura Bennett.”
“Know her?”
“Yes.”
“Trust her?”
Cole took too long.
“She’s competent.”
“That wasn’t my question.”
“I don’t know.”
“Then give her a chance.”
Cole laughed weakly.
“You telling me that?”
“Yes.”
“That’s concerning.”
“Did county retain the drive?”
“Yes.”
“Garage evidence?”
“Yes.”
“Your notes?”
“Preserved.”
“Body camera?”
“Uploaded before they took my badge.”
David looked at himself in the mirror.
“Then you did what you could.”
Cole went quiet.
“That sounds like something people say when they’re done.”
“I’m not done.”
“You’re not a detective.”
“I know.”
“Do you?”
David almost snapped at him.
Instead he stared at Nora’s blood on his cuff.
“Yes.”
Cole’s voice softened.
“Good.”
David asked, “Did Vale get interviewed?”
“Briefly.”
“By Bennett?”
“No.”
“Who?”
“My lieutenant.”
“That seems inappropriate.”
“Maybe.”
“Anything documented?”
“I don’t know.”
David filed it away.
Cole continued.
“There’s something you need to hear before I lose access to everything.”
David waited.
“Campus maintenance confirmed the emergency station in Garage C was manually disabled.”
“How?”
“Service panel opened.”
“Key?”
“Yes.”
“Who has keys?”
“Campus safety supervisors, facilities managers, and contracted security maintenance.”
“Vale?”
“Yes.”
“That proves access.”
“Not use.”
“I know.”
Cole paused.
“The service panel log shows maintenance at ten forty-eight last night.”
David went still.
“Who signed it?”
“That’s the problem.”
“What problem?”
“The technician ID belongs to a man who retired eight months ago.”
David closed his eyes.
“Credential reused.”
“Looks that way.”
“Can they identify which terminal issued the work order?”
“Bennett will need to chase that.”
“You sound worried she won’t.”
“I sound unemployed.”
“You’re suspended.”
“Feels similar at seven in the morning.”
David heard traffic on Cole’s end.
“Where are you?”
“Parking lot.”
“Go home.”
“My wife is going to kill me.”
“That seems premature.”
“She told me not to take this assignment.”
David almost smiled.
“Then you have a separate investigation waiting.”
“Exactly.”
Cole was quiet.
“Mr. Miller.”
“David.”
Another pause.
“David.”
“Yeah?”
“Do not make me regret giving you my personal number.”
David looked toward the bathroom door.
“I won’t.”
Cole ended the call.
When David stepped back into the room, Mrs. Alvarez was feeding Nora tiny spoonfuls of applesauce with the concentration of someone defusing a bomb.
Nora looked furious about it.
“You are injured,” Mrs. Alvarez told her.
“I am elderly.”
“We both dislike assistance.”
“This is how civilization works.”
Nora pointed at David.
Mrs. Alvarez looked over.
“What?”
Nora pointed again.
David understood.
“She wants me to do it.”
Mrs. Alvarez looked offended.
“I raised four children.”
“She has standards.”
Mrs. Alvarez handed him the spoon.
“Fine.”
Nora’s eyes smiled.
David sat down.
He offered her a tiny amount.
She glared at him.
“What?”
She tapped the spoon.
“Too much?”
A nod.
He reduced it.
She accepted.
Mrs. Alvarez folded her arms.
“This family is exhausting.”
David fed Nora three more spoonfuls.
His phone vibrated again.
He ignored it.
Then it vibrated twice in quick succession.
Nora pointed toward his pocket.
“Later.”
She pointed again.
Mrs. Alvarez said, “Answer it.”
David checked the screen.
Bishop.
He stepped into the hall.
“What?”
“We found Mercer.”
Every muscle in David’s body tightened.
“Where?”
“Maybe nowhere.”
“That sentence does not improve the morning.”
“Listen.”
Bishop spoke quickly now.
“Chen ran Daniel March through lawful public records.”
“And?”
“Daniel March exists.”
“Age?”
“Fifty-four.”
Mercer would be fifty-three.
“Address?”
“Virginia.”
“Photograph?”
“That’s the problem.”
“What problem?”
“Driver’s-license image isn’t public.”
“Then what do we have?”
“Property records.”
“Business filings.”
“Federal contractor registrations.”
David felt irritation rising.
“Bishop.”
“Daniel March owns a small risk-consulting firm.”
“So do thousands of people.”
“He formed it eleven years ago.”
“Still nothing.”
“The registered office used to be in Arlington.”
“Still nothing.”
“His company received subcontracting work from Holbrook Dynamics.”
David stopped breathing for half a second.
“When?”
“First contract we found was nine years ago.”
“Current?”
“Yes.”
“Scope?”
“Corporate risk assessments.”
David leaned against the wall.
“That links March to Holbrook.”
“Yes.”
“It does not link March to Mercer.”
“No.”
“What does?”
Bishop became quiet.
David knew he was about to dislike the answer.
“An archived conference program from four years ago lists Daniel March as a speaker.”
“Photo?”
“No.”
“Biography?”
“Yes.”
“Anything useful?”
“One sentence.”
David waited.
Bishop read it.
“Prior to private consulting, Mr. March served in specialized government security assignments overseas.”
“That is vague enough to mean anything.”
“I know.”
“Then why are we discussing it?”
“Because the program lists his topic.”
David said nothing.
Bishop continued.
“Recovering Operational Teams After Leadership Failure.”
David closed his eyes.
Somewhere inside Nora’s room, Mrs. Alvarez laughed at something.
The sound seemed impossibly far away.
Bishop said, “David, whoever Daniel March is, Holbrook has been paying him for years.”
May you like
David opened his eyes.
“And if March is Mercer?”
