At 10:15 that night, Victoria returned to the federal facility.
Sarah was waiting in the conference room.
A large screen displayed a photograph of Peter Wallace.
Beside it were several employment records.
"He's thirty-nine years old," Sarah began. "Former federal security contractor. He worked under several government agencies before joining Donovan Development Group."
Victoria examined the photograph.
"Does he have any criminal history?"
"Nothing substantial. A few employment disputes and one internal investigation that was closed without disciplinary action."
"Who closed it?"
Sarah pointed toward the screen.
"Richard Harlan."
Victoria leaned back.
"Of course."
Sarah opened another file.
"There's more. Wallace was assigned to several operations involving the protection of sensitive government witnesses."
Victoria frowned.
"Then he had access to witness information."
"Yes."
"Could he have accessed our records?"
"We're investigating that."
Victoria looked at the photograph again.
"Find his current location."
Sarah nodded.
Then she opened a second screen.
It displayed the financial transactions from David's black case.
"There's something else we discovered. The payments to Donovan's companies weren't all coming from the infrastructure program."
"Where else?"
"Several federal security contracts."
Victoria studied the figures.
The same company had received payments from three different government departments.
The descriptions were almost identical.
Each payment was labeled as an emergency security service.
But there were no supporting operational reports.
"How much?"
"Approximately twelve million dollars over four years."
Victoria slowly exhaled.
"That's another layer of the scheme."
Sarah nodded.
"And there's a payment to Peter Wallace."
"How much?"
"Two hundred and fifty thousand dollars."
Victoria looked up.
"When?"
"Three days before David Carter disappeared."
The room became silent.
Victoria stood.
"Bring David in tomorrow morning. I want him to identify Wallace formally."
Sarah closed the file.
"There's one more thing."
"What?"
Sarah placed a photograph on the table.
It showed Richard Harlan entering a private restaurant with Charles Donovan.
The photograph was dated only two weeks earlier.
Victoria stared at it.
"They're still meeting?"
"Apparently."
"Where was this taken?"
"Washington."
Victoria picked up the photograph.
"Then we have a serious problem."
Sarah nodded.
"Because if Harlan knows we're investigating him, he may already be preparing to destroy whatever evidence remains."
Victoria returned the photograph to the table.
"Not if we move first."
The next morning, Sheriff Daniel Whitmore arrived at his office earlier than usual.
He had barely slept.
Every time he closed his eyes, he saw Victoria Bennett standing across from him, calmly explaining that his department was under investigation.
He also remembered the documents found in Room 214.
The financial transfers.
The missing reports.
The body-camera footage.
And David Carter.
For years, Whitmore had believed that his position made him powerful enough to control the people around him.
He had convinced himself that the public would never discover what was happening behind the department's walls.
Now that belief was collapsing.
He entered his office and locked the door.
Then he opened his desk drawer and removed a small photograph.
It showed him standing beside his wife and two children.
His youngest daughter was smiling.
She had been only eight years old when the photograph was taken.
Whitmore stared at it.
He remembered the day clearly.
He had promised his children that he would always protect them.
He had meant it.
But somewhere along the way, he had become the kind of person he once promised to fight.
His telephone rang.
He looked at the screen.
Charles Donovan.
Whitmore answered.
"What?"
"Good morning to you too."
"What do you want?"
"We need to discuss the situation."
"There's nothing to discuss. The federal investigators have the records."
Donovan sighed.
"Daniel, you're becoming emotional."
"Emotional?"
"Yes. You're panicking."
Whitmore slammed his hand against the desk.
"They found Carter! They're questioning everyone! They have the financial records!"
"I know."
"Then what do you expect me to do?"
Donovan paused.
"There's a way out."
Whitmore frowned.
"What way?"
"You take responsibility for the local payments. You tell them you acted independently. You explain that you believed the transactions were legitimate."
Whitmore stared at the telephone.
"And you?"
"I'll provide whatever documentation is necessary."
"You're asking me to take the blame for everything."
"I'm asking you to protect yourself."
Whitmore laughed bitterly.
"You've already abandoned me."
Donovan's voice became cold.
"Be careful, Daniel."
"Or what?"
"You have a family. You should think about them."
Whitmore froze.
The threat was unmistakable.
He slowly lowered the telephone.
"Don't you ever mention my family again."
Donovan ended the call.
Whitmore remained seated.
For the first time, he began considering telling the truth.
Not because he had suddenly become an honest man.