Victoria opened the door only a few inches.
Whitmore stood outside with Deputy Ryan Mitchell.
The sheriff looked past her into the room.
"Margaret, come outside. You've caused enough trouble for one evening."
The older woman instinctively stepped backward.
Victoria did not move.
"She is cooperating with a federal investigation. You have no authority to remove her from this room."
Whitmore's expression hardened.
"I am still the sheriff of this county."
"And she is a witness in an investigation that concerns your department."
For several seconds, the two stared at each other.
Then Ryan spoke.
"Sir, perhaps we should let them continue."
Whitmore turned toward him.
"Nobody asked you."
Ryan lowered his eyes.
But Victoria noticed something.
The young deputy was no longer standing beside the sheriff with the same confidence he had shown earlier.
He looked uncomfortable.
Almost ashamed.
Whitmore finally stepped away from the doorway.
"Fine. Do whatever you want."
He turned and walked down the hallway.
Ryan remained for a moment.
As he passed Victoria, he quietly slipped a folded piece of paper into her hand.
Then he followed the sheriff.
Victoria closed the door.
She unfolded the paper.
There were only six words written on it.
Check the old evidence room.
Sarah read the message over her shoulder.
"Do you think he's trying to help us?"
"I don't know," Victoria answered. "But I think we're about to find out."
The old evidence room was located in the basement.
Unlike the newer storage area, it had not been renovated in years. Its walls were painted a dull gray, and several shelves were filled with boxes bearing handwritten labels.
An investigator named Michael Grant accompanied Victoria and Sarah downstairs.
They had obtained the necessary authorization to examine the room.
The building's security officer unlocked the entrance.
Inside, the air smelled of dust, paper, and old metal.
"According to the inventory," Michael said, examining his tablet, "the evidence from the Thomas Reed incident should be in Section C."
They walked between the shelves.
The first box contained photographs.
The second contained copies of patrol reports.
The third was empty.
Michael frowned.
"That's strange."
"What?" Victoria asked.
"The inventory says this box should contain the original body-camera storage device."
"Is there a record showing when it was removed?"
Michael checked the system.
"According to the database, it was transferred to another department fourteen months ago."
"Which department?"
He looked closer.
"There's no destination listed."
Victoria turned toward Sarah.
"That isn't a normal transfer."
"No," Sarah agreed. "It isn't."
Michael continued searching.
Behind several larger boxes, he noticed a narrow metal cabinet.
Unlike the others, it had a modern digital lock.
"That wasn't included in the inventory."
Sarah approached it.
"Can you open it?"
Michael examined the lock.
"I'll need the technician."
Before they could make another request, Victoria noticed something unusual.
A small white label had been attached to the cabinet.
It contained a case number.
She recognized the number immediately.
It belonged to David Carter.
The missing witness.
"Michael," she said quietly. "This cabinet is connected to the case Margaret mentioned."
He photographed the label.
Sarah contacted the forensic technician.
Twenty minutes later, the cabinet was opened under controlled conditions.
Inside were several sealed envelopes, a portable hard drive, and a thick brown folder.
The folder was marked:
DAVID CARTER — CONFIDENTIAL INVESTIGATION.
Victoria carefully opened it.
The first page contained a photograph of a middle-aged man with dark hair and a tired expression.
His name was David Carter.
He had worked as a financial administrator for Donovan Development Group, the company owned by Charles Donovan.
According to the documents, Carter had discovered irregular payments involving county contracts.
Millions of dollars had apparently been transferred through several shell companies.
Some payments had been approved by county officials.
Others had been connected to the sheriff's department.
The records suggested that public money intended for road construction, emergency equipment, and community programs had been diverted.
Victoria turned another page.
There was a handwritten statement.
It was dated three days before David disappeared.
The statement read:
"I have copies of the original financial records. I have been threatened twice. Sheriff Whitmore knows about the transfers. If anything happens to me, the evidence must be given to someone outside this county."
Victoria felt a chill run down her spine.
Sarah examined the following pages.
"There's more."
She held up a document containing a list of bank transactions.
At the bottom was a signature.
Daniel Whitmore.
Victoria stared at it.
The sheriff had repeatedly denied having any financial relationship with Donovan Development Group.
Yet here was a document bearing his signature.