Chapter 4 - The Leak Inside the Badge
Detective Brooks didn’t touch the flash drive immediately.
That told me he was careful.
Alan Pierce stood on the opposite side of the hospital reception desk with the patience of someone who expected suspicion.
Brooks motioned to a uniformed officer.
“Evidence bag.”
Alan smiled faintly.
“You really think I brought you something dangerous inside a hospital?”
Brooks replied, “I think assuming people won’t do stupid things is how detectives become memorial photographs.”
I liked him a little more after that.
The drive went into a bag.
Brooks looked at Alan.
“What’s on it?”
“Information Victor would kill to keep private.”
Eleanor flinched at the word.
Alan noticed.
“So choose your language,” I said.
His eyes moved to mine.
“Fair.”
Brooks asked, “Why bring it to us now?”
Alan glanced toward Evelyn’s room.
“Because Dustin crossed a line.”
I almost laughed.
“You work with Victor Raines, and this is where you discovered lines?”
His face showed no anger.
“That criticism is deserved.”
“Then answer the question.”
Alan looked tired suddenly.
“I’ve worked for Victor for eleven years.”
“In what capacity?”
“Attorney. Financial adviser. Problem solver.”
“Problem solver,” Brooks repeated.
“I solve legal problems.”
Brooks didn’t look convinced.
Alan continued.
“I told myself that distinction mattered.”
There was shame in the sentence.
Not theatrical shame.
The kind men carry privately.
“My younger brother owed Victor money. Years ago. I negotiated the debt away. Victor offered me work. At first everything was legitimate.”
“And later?”
“Later I learned not to ask certain questions.”
I said, “That’s a convenient conscience.”
“Yes.”
Again, no defensiveness.
That made it harder to dismiss him.
Brooks folded his arms.
“What changed?”
Alan looked toward Evelyn’s room.
“Two years ago, a restaurant owner refused to sell Victor his property.”
I remembered the place.
Small Italian restaurant near downtown.
Closed after a fire.
“The owner changed his mind,” Alan said. “I prepared the transfer papers.”
“What happened?”
“Three weeks later, he disappeared.”
Brooks’s face tightened.
“That case is still open.”
“I know.”
“You have evidence Victor was involved?”
“Not proof.”
“Then what do you have?”
“Patterns.”
Brooks gestured toward the evidence bag.
“On there?”
“Enough to show financial crimes. Bribery. Extortion. Possibly more.”
“Why not bring it sooner?”
Alan stared at the floor.
“Cowardice.”
The honesty surprised everyone.
“I kept telling myself I was collecting enough to protect my family before I acted.”
I understood that more than I wanted to.
People imagine courage as a switch.
On or off.
It isn’t.
Fear gets complicated when you love people.
Brooks asked, “And Dustin?”
“Victor treats him like a son.”
“Does Victor know Dustin hit Evelyn?”
“Yes.”
My body became cold.
“What did he say?”
Alan hesitated.
“What did he say?”
“That Dustin should fix the situation before it became embarrassing.”
Eleanor stepped forward.
“Fix?”
Alan’s eyes dropped.
“I don’t know exactly what Victor intended.”
“Don’t insult us.”
“I’m not.”
His voice sharpened for the first time.
“I came here because I don’t know how far he’ll go.”
A phone rang behind reception.
Nobody moved.
Then Alan said the part that mattered most.
“Victor called someone at the police station seventeen minutes after Evelyn gave her statement.”
Brooks’s expression changed.
“How do you know?”
“Because Victor called me seventeen minutes later and said the department had confirmed Evelyn named Dustin.”
Brooks looked toward the nearby officers.
His voice became quiet.
“Who knew she gave that statement?”
“A lot of people,” Eleanor said.
Brooks shook his head.
“Not that quickly.”
He took out his phone.
“From now on, this case goes through me and two people I trust.”
Alan gave a sad smile.
“Are you certain you trust them?”
Brooks looked at him.
“No.”
That answer may have saved us.
Within half an hour, Evelyn was moved to another floor under a different patient listing.
Two officers were assigned outside.
Brooks contacted a state investigator instead of routing everything through the local department.
The flash drive went with him.
For the first time that night, I allowed myself to sit.
Eleanor brought me coffee.
It was terrible.
Hospital coffee usually is.
She sat beside me.
“You locked the gym door?”
I stared straight ahead.
“Who told you?”
“Evelyn.”
“Evelyn wasn’t there.”
“Marcus called her.”
I turned.
“Marcus?”
“One of the fighters.”
News traveled quickly.
Eleanor stared at me.
“Do you understand how insane that was?”
“They surrounded me.”
“That is not an answer.”
“I knew what I was doing.”
“You’re sixty-three.”
“I’m aware.”
“You have a knee that predicts rain.”
“It’s very accurate.”
She tried not to smile.
It lasted half a second.
Then tears filled her eyes.
“I almost lost my daughter tonight.”
The joke vanished.
She grabbed my hand.
“I can’t lose you too.”
I squeezed her fingers.
“You won’t.”
“You can’t promise that.”
“No.”
I looked toward Evelyn’s room.
“But I can promise I’m not going looking for another fight.”
That was true.
Unfortunately, the fight was looking for us.
At 1:13 in the morning, an officer entered the hallway.
He whispered something to Brooks.
The detective immediately stood.
“What happened?”
The officer looked at me.
“Your house.”
My chest tightened.
“What about it?”
“Patrol responded to an alarm.”
Eleanor stood.
“Was someone inside?”
The officer shook his head.
“No forced entry.”
Brooks asked, “Then why did the alarm trigger?”
The officer hesitated.
“Garage motion sensor.”
I pictured my garage.
Tools.
Old photographs.
Military boxes I hadn’t opened in years.
Brooks said, “Nobody goes home tonight.”
I called our neighbor.
No answer.
Called again.
Still nothing.
Then my phone buzzed.
Unknown number.
A photograph appeared.
My house.
Taken from across the street.
Timestamped twelve minutes earlier.
Beneath it were seven words.
YOU SHOULD HAVE GONE TO THE HOSPITAL FIRST.
Eleanor read the message over my shoulder.
Her hand covered her mouth.
Brooks took my phone.
“Don’t respond.”
I wasn’t looking at the message anymore.
I was looking at the photograph.
Specifically the lower-left corner.
A reflection in the passenger mirror of whoever had taken it.
A face.
Blurred.
But familiar.
I had seen that man earlier in the evening.
Standing silently behind Dustin’s coach.
One of the gym fighters.
Victor wasn’t merely watching us.
He was using Dustin’s own teammates.
May you like
And if one had been outside my house, I suddenly wondered how many others had already chosen sides.
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