“I don't know.”
“You're lying.”
Cole's eyes flashed.
“No. I'm afraid.”
That stopped Marcus.
Cole had never admitted fear before.
Not in raids.
Not during arrests.
Not even when a suspect once pulled a gun on them.
Marcus lowered his voice.
“Who are you afraid of?”
Cole looked at him.
“People who don't wear uniforms.”
Then he walked away.
Marcus remained alone.
He looked down at the notebook.
The old note about Ranger seemed suddenly heavier.
Ranger hadn't been reacting randomly.
The dog had sensed a hollow space.
A concealed compartment.
Something hidden inside HS-17.
Marcus returned to his truck and called Captain Porter.
She answered on the third ring.
“Marcus?”
“I found something.”
A pause.
“What?”
“Daniel Reese's training notes.”
Another pause.
“What do they say?”
“That Ranger alerted to HS-17 before the seizure.”
Porter exhaled slowly.
“Where are you?”
“Outside the warehouse.”
“Listen carefully.”
Her voice had changed.
“Destroy nothing. Move nothing. And don't tell anyone you found it.”
“Why?”
“Because Daniel Reese never retired voluntarily.”
Marcus stopped breathing for a moment.
“What?”
Porter continued.
“He resigned after discovering irregularities in the Harbor Street operation.”
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“Because I was told the matter was closed.”
“By who?”
Porter hesitated.
Then said quietly:
“Deputy Chief Warren.”
Marcus knew the name.
Warren controlled the department's operations division.
And suddenly the case had a face.
Deputy Chief Warren summoned Marcus Friday morning.
His office was on the top floor, surrounded by glass walls overlooking the city.
Warren didn't ask Marcus to sit.
“You've been suspended from K9 operations.”
“I know.”
“You've also been warned not to interfere with an internal investigation.”
“I know that too.”
Warren folded his hands.
“Then why are you still digging?”
“Because my dog was injured.”
“Accidents happen.”
“Not like this.”
Warren's eyes narrowed.
“Be careful.”
Marcus remembered Cole saying the same words.
“You people keep telling me to be careful.”
Warren smiled without warmth.
“Because you're beginning to mistake suspicion for evidence.”
Marcus stepped toward the door.
“Then give me the evidence.”
Warren said nothing.
Marcus left.
When he returned to his desk, his computer password no longer worked.
His files were gone.
The Harbor Street case folder had disappeared.
Even his personal training records had been locked.
Someone had erased his access.
He went directly to Tom Alvarez.
“Tell me everything you know.”
Tom closed his office door.
“You shouldn't be here.”
“Neither should you.”
Tom looked exhausted.
He reached beneath his desk and removed a small memory card.
“I copied something before they changed the archive.”
Marcus took it.
“What is it?”
“Original Harbor Street inventory.”
“How did you get it?”
“I keep backups.”
Tom gave a nervous laugh.
“Evidence clerks survive by remembering that computers lie.”
Marcus inserted the card into his laptop.
The original manifest appeared.
Twelve containers.
HS-17 was listed.
Cargo description: industrial equipment.
Weight: 4,860 pounds.
Marcus frowned.
“That container wasn't empty.”
“No.”
“Where is it?”
Tom looked at him.
“That's what I've been trying to determine.”
The record showed HS-17 had been transferred after seizure.
Destination: County Evidence Annex.
But the annex had no record of receiving it.