“No.”
“How do you know?”
“Because fear and cowardice aren't the same thing.”
Marcus looked at her.
“You really believe that?”
“Yes.”
They continued walking.
After several steps, Marcus spoke again.
“There is something I should tell you.”
Evelyn stopped.
“What?”
“About Peter Lawson.”
Her expression sharpened.
“What about him?”
“He asked me for my badge two months ago.”
“Why?”
“Said security administration needed to update access encryption.”
“Did you give it to him?”
“For about ten minutes.”
Evelyn's heartbeat quickened.
“That may be when it was cloned.”
“I know.”
“Did he ask anyone else?”
“I don't know.”
“Why didn't you mention this yesterday?”
Marcus looked ashamed.
“I forgot.”
“That happens.”
“No.”
He shook his head.
“I think I didn't want to remember.”
Evelyn understood.
“Because you thought you'd be blamed.”
“Yes.”
She looked at him.
“Thank you for telling me now.”
Marcus nodded.
Then he frowned.
“There's something else.”
“What?”
“The night Paul Mercer died.”
Evelyn became still.
“What about it?”
“I saw Lawson.”
“Where?”
“In the parking garage.”
“That proves nothing.”
“I know.”
“What was unusual?”
“He was near Paul's car.”
Evelyn felt the air leave her lungs.
“Doing what?”
“I don't know.”
“How long?”
“Maybe thirty seconds.”
“Did you see him touch the vehicle?”
“No.”
“Then we cannot assume anything.”
“I understand.”
“Did you tell police?”
Marcus looked down.
“No.”
“Why?”
“I didn't know Paul was going to die.”
“Afterward?”
Marcus swallowed.
“Lawson told me I must have remembered the wrong night.”
Evelyn stared at him.
“Did you?”
“No.”
“Are you certain?”
“Yes.”
She took out her phone.
“We need to document exactly what you remember.”
Marcus nodded.
“And Marcus?”
“Yes?”
“We don't jump to conclusions about the accident.”
“I know.”
“But we don't bury your memory either.”
For the first time in years, Marcus felt like both things could be true.
The police report described Paul Mercer's death in ordinary terms.
Heavy rain.
Poor visibility.
Loss of control.
Vehicle crossed the median.
Collision with concrete barrier.
No other vehicle identified.
No evidence of alcohol.
No mechanical examination beyond the standard post-collision assessment.
At the time, there had been no reason to suspect anything unusual.
Now, external investigators reviewed the record.
They did not begin with a theory of murder.
They began with questions.
Had the vehicle experienced mechanical failure?
Had maintenance been performed recently?
Was Lawson actually near the car that night?
Could surveillance footage still exist?
Most answers were uncertain.
One answer was not.
A private parking garage across the street had retained archived footage longer than expected because of an unrelated insurance dispute.
The video quality was poor.
But investigators could see Paul's car.
And at 6:14 p.m., they could see a man standing beside it.
His face was unclear.
His build resembled Lawson's.
That was not enough for identification.
Then the man turned.
For three frames, a distinctive reflective patch appeared on his jacket.
Sterling Dynamics security supervisors wore jackets with that patch.
Again, not proof of identity.
But enough to justify further investigation.
Evelyn refused to speculate.
When Caleb showed her the images, she asked only:
“Can we establish who it was?”
“Not from this video alone.”
“Then don't call him Lawson.”
“Understood.”
“Can the car be examined?”
“It was destroyed after the insurance process.”
“Records?”
“We're seeking them through appropriate channels.”
Evelyn nodded.
“Good.”
Caleb looked at her.
“You don't seem surprised anymore.”
“I ran out of surprise yesterday.”
He almost laughed.
Then his phone vibrated.
He looked down.
His expression changed.
“What?”
“We found Peter Lawson.”
“Where?”
“Hospital.”
Evelyn stood.
“What happened?”
“Car accident.”
For several seconds, neither spoke.
“Is he alive?”
“Yes.”
“Condition?”
“Stable.”
“Was Patricia with him?”
“No.”
“Where is she?”
“Still unknown.”
Evelyn closed her eyes.
“Which hospital?”
Caleb told her.
“Have investigators contacted him?”
“Not yet.”
“Do not interfere with medical care.”
“Of course.”
“And notify Jonathan.”
“Already happening.”
Evelyn grabbed her coat.
Caleb frowned.
“Where are you going?”
“To the hospital.”
“Why?”
“Because everyone else seems to think Peter Lawson is either a criminal or a victim.”
“And you?”
Evelyn opened the door.
“I'd like to hear what Peter Lawson thinks he is.”
Lawson looked smaller in a hospital bed.
His left arm was bandaged.
A bruise covered part of his forehead.
He stared at Evelyn when she entered.
“You.”
“Yes.”
He laughed weakly.
“Of course.”
Evelyn sat in the chair beside his bed.
An attorney retained by Lawson was present, along with an investigator. Ground rules had been established before any substantive discussion.
Evelyn did not question him about criminal liability.
She asked:
“Are you all right?”
Lawson looked suspicious.
“Do you care?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because you're a human being.”
He looked away.
“That's not how this works.”
“How does it work?”
“You want information.”
“I do.”
“So don't pretend you're here because you care about me.”
Evelyn nodded.
“Fair.”
Lawson looked at her.
“I deleted the files.”
The attorney beside him immediately raised a hand.
“Peter.”
Lawson closed his eyes.
“Right.”
His lawyer spoke calmly.
“We need to be careful about statements.”
Evelyn nodded.
“I understand.”
Lawson looked toward the ceiling.
Then said:
“I want to cooperate through counsel.”
Evelyn felt her pulse quicken.
“Why?”
“Because I'm tired.”
“Of what?”
He laughed bitterly.
“Being scared.”
Evelyn waited.
Lawson's lawyer looked at him.
He nodded.
Then Lawson said:
“Blue Harbor isn't about consulting.”
“We know that.”
“It's a slush system.”
“We suspect funds were diverted.”
“It's bigger.”
“How?”
Lawson's eyes met hers.
“Sterling didn't just pay fake vendors.”
Evelyn waited.
Lawson continued.
“Sometimes real vendors were overpaid.”
“How did it work?”
“A contract might be worth three million. Paperwork would show four.”
“And the extra million?”
“Moved through Blue Harbor.”