Richard smiled faintly.
“Exactly.”
The answer made Ethan feel a little more in control. He could not change what had happened to him, but he could help ensure that the facts were preserved.
He returned to his desk and opened a blank document.
He began writing a detailed account of the encounter, recording the sequence of events as accurately as he could remember them. He included the officer's exact words where possible, noted the times he could establish from his phone, and listed the people he had seen nearby.
He did not exaggerate.
He did not speculate about the officer's motives.
He described what had happened.
When he finished, he read the account twice and saved a copy.
Then he sent a message to Marcus's office asking how he should submit it.
For the first time since the incident, he felt that he was doing something more useful than simply reliving it.
At Westbridge Police Headquarters, Captain Paul Harlan sat behind his desk and watched the minutes pass.
He had received the message about the Carter file the previous evening. Since then, he had made three telephone calls, none of which had given him the reassurance he wanted.
The first person he contacted had refused to discuss the matter.
The second had told him to remain calm and avoid making any unnecessary decisions.
The third had not answered at all.
Harlan disliked uncertainty.
During his twenty-seven years in law enforcement, he had built a reputation as a practical administrator. He knew which officers needed encouragement, which supervisors required close oversight, and which departmental problems could be solved with a quiet conversation.
He believed that most crises could be contained if people acted quickly and communicated carefully.
But the current situation was different.
Marcus Reed was not a local reporter who could be discouraged by a vague statement. He was not a junior investigator who could be overwhelmed by paperwork. He had the authority, resources, and patience to follow a trail wherever it led.
And Richard Miller was not a grieving family friend who had forgotten the details of an old case.
Harlan remembered Richard.
He remembered the questions Richard had asked after David's death, the meetings he had requested, and the letters he had sent to the department. He remembered the growing frustration in Richard's voice when the official explanations failed to answer basic questions.
Most of all, Harlan remembered how the case had finally gone quiet.
He had never expected it to return.
A knock sounded at the door.
“Come in,” he called.
Officer Brooks entered and closed the door behind him.
He looked tired. The confidence he had displayed on Ashford Street was gone, replaced by an anxious expression that made him appear younger.
“Captain, I need to know what's happening.”
Harlan gestured toward a chair.
“Sit down.”
Brooks remained standing.
“They've taken me off patrol. Lieutenant Collins says I'm supposed to remain available while the incident is reviewed.”
“That is a precaution.”
“They're treating me like I've committed a crime.”
“They're investigating your conduct.”
“I was doing my job.”
Harlan studied him.
“Then cooperate with the investigation and provide a complete account.”
Brooks shook his head.
“You know how these things work. Once a video gets out, nobody cares about the facts.”
“Then the facts need to be clear.”
“Captain, I've seen the way these investigations go. They find an old complaint, then another one, and suddenly every decision you've ever made becomes suspicious.”
Harlan's face remained impassive.
“Have you been involved in other incidents that you believe may become relevant?”
Brooks hesitated.
“There were complaints. Nothing was substantiated.”
“That's not what I asked.”
Brooks looked down.
“There was an incident with a man outside an apartment building. Another with a woman who refused to follow instructions. I don't remember every detail.”
“Did you document those incidents?”
“Yes.”
“Did you follow departmental policy?”
“As far as I remember.”
Harlan leaned back.
“Then your records should speak for themselves.”
Brooks finally sat down.
“Captain, people are saying this is connected to some old case. A man named David Carter. Do you know anything about that?”
The question struck Harlan harder than he expected.
He concealed his reaction, but not quickly enough.
Brooks noticed.
“You do know something.”
Harlan stood and walked to the window.
“David Carter's case occurred long before your time in this department.”
“But you knew about it?”
“Everyone who worked here knew about it.”
“Was there misconduct?”
Harlan turned.
“I'm not discussing an old case with an officer who is currently under review.”
Brooks's face tightened.
“I'm not asking because I'm curious. I'm asking because I don't want to become the person everyone blames for something that happened before I was even on the force.”
Harlan understood the fear behind the words.