Chapter 4: The Report That Never Existed
The second report had never appeared in the official case file.
That was the first thing Special Agent Rachel Donovan told me when she arrived at the hospital two hours after General Monroe left my room.
The second thing she told me was that someone had accessed my mother's records the previous night.
And the third was the reason she had come in person.
"Captain Naomi, I need you to understand something before we proceed," Donovan said, setting a thin folder on my bedside table.
"Your mother's case wasn't merely closed. Someone actively maintained the appearance that no further investigation was necessary.""
I looked at the folder.
"Who?""
"We don't know yet.""
"Then why are you here?""
"Because the access request originated from an account associated with Lieutenant Commander Patrick Hales.""
I felt the familiar pull in my hip as I shifted against the pillows.
"Was the request approved?""
"Yes.""
"By whom?""
Donovan opened the folder and turned a page toward me.
The authorization field contained a familiar name.
LUCAS A. MONROE.
For several seconds, I couldn't hear the rain or the monitor beside my bed.
I saw only those letters.
The same name on the detention visitor log.
The same name on the authorization that had allowed Charles Grant to enter my commissioning ceremony.
And now, apparently, the same name attached to an attempt to access records connected to my mother's death.
"Tell me this is a coincidence," I whispered.
Donovan didn't offer me the comfort of a lie.
"I can't.""
"Did you confront him?""
"General Monroe has been notified that the records are under review. He has agreed to provide a statement.""
"Agreed?""
"That doesn't mean we consider him cleared.""
I looked away.
For nine years, I had wondered why Charles always seemed to escape consequences.
A protective order had kept him away from me, but it hadn't stopped him from appearing at my college graduation, sending threatening letters through relatives, or contacting people in my chain of command after I enlisted.
Every time I found a way to shut one door, another opened.
And somehow, someone was always there to hold it for him.
I had assumed Charles possessed money, influence, and friends in the right places.
I had never considered that one of the men protecting me might also have been protecting him.
"Agent Donovan," I said, "how did Charles enter the commissioning ceremony?""
"We're still reconstructing the access procedure.""
"His guest credential was legitimate.""
"That's what the preliminary report says.""
"Who sponsored it?""
She closed the folder.
"The authorization originated from the senior command liaison office. The account holder was General Monroe.""
I felt as if someone had struck me in the chest.
"He sponsored my stepfather?""
"That is what the credential system indicates. We haven't established whether he personally submitted or approved the request.""
"But his account did.""
"Yes.""
I stared at my hands.
The skin across my knuckles was pale where I had been gripping the blanket.
"Can you tell me why?""
"That's what we're trying to establish.""
It was the careful language of an investigator who knew the evidence was ugly but wasn't yet prepared to describe exactly how ugly.
Donovan stood and walked toward the door.
Before she reached it, I spoke again.
"If you find evidence that Monroe knowingly helped Charles get near me, I want to be interviewed as a witness.""
She turned.
"Captain, you are already a witness.""
"Then treat me like one. Not like a wounded subordinate whose feelings need protecting.""
For a moment, Donovan's expression softened.
"Understood.""
When she left, I asked the nurse to contact Sergeant Kim.
Ji-woo arrived twenty minutes later with damp hair, a paper bag of food, and the expression of a woman who had already heard something she didn't like.
"You look terrible," she said.
"I've been having a difficult morning.""
"You've been having a difficult decade.""
She placed the bag on the table.
Then she noticed the folder.
"What happened?""
I handed her the page showing the authorization.
Kim read it without sitting down.
When she finished, she looked at me.
"Tell me that isn't what I think it is.""
"I can't.""
She pulled a chair closer.
"We need to freeze the credential records, the detention entry, and every access request tied to your mother's case.""
"Donovan is handling the investigation.""
"Then we cooperate and preserve our own documentation. No speculation. No private confrontation.""
I raised an eyebrow.
"You're quoting me.""
"You're a bad influence.""
She took out her notebook.
"There's one more thing. Bell found a second irregularity in the detention system.""
"What kind?""
"The entry says Monroe visited Charles for nineteen minutes. But the facility's electronic door records show that someone using Hales's credential entered the interview corridor seven minutes before Monroe arrived.""
"Was Hales there?""
"According to the official record, no.""
"Then who used his credential?""
"That's the problem.""
I reached for the water on my bedside table.
"Can the system distinguish between Hales and someone using his badge?""
"Not from the old corridor logs alone. We're requesting camera footage and the original credential authentication records.""
"What does Bell think?""
Kim hesitated.
"He thinks the visit may have been arranged for two people, not one.""
My fingers tightened around the glass.
"Was there a second visitor?""
"There's no second visitor listed.""
"Then why would someone enter the corridor before Monroe?""
"Because they wanted to prepare the room. Or because Monroe wasn't the only person visiting Charles.""
The room fell silent.
A faint knock interrupted us.
A nurse entered carrying a small white envelope.
"This was left at the front desk for Captain Naomi," she said.
"The person said it was a family document.""
Kim stood immediately.
"Who brought it?""
"I wasn't at the desk when it arrived. Security has the delivery information.""
"Did you open it?""
"No.""
Kim put on a pair of gloves before accepting the envelope.
There was no return address.
My full name had been printed on the front in block letters.
Inside lay a single photograph.
It showed my mother standing beside a black sedan outside a building I recognized from the old case file: the county records annex.
She looked younger than she did in the memories I carried.
Her hair was pulled back. One hand rested on the car roof.
A man stood beside her, his face partly hidden by the photograph's damaged edge.
On the reverse, somebody had written a date.
Six months before her death.
Below it were seven words.
*Ask Monroe who drove her home that night.*
I looked at Kim.
She had gone very still.
"Don't touch the photograph again," she said.
"I'll notify Donovan.""
"That date. Does it match the meeting my mother had with Monroe?""
"I don't know.""
"Find out.""
Kim turned the photograph over again, careful not to disturb the evidence.
Then she examined the visible part of the man's sleeve.
A small insignia was stitched onto the fabric.
She leaned closer.
"Naomi.""
"What?""
"This could be a uniform.""
I looked at the insignia.
It was blurred, but the shape was familiar.
Not a civilian company logo.
Not a county department emblem.
Military.
Before either of us could say anything else, Kim's phone vibrated.
She read the incoming message.
All color disappeared from her face.
"What is it?"" I demanded.
She turned the screen toward me.
It was from Specialist Bell.
*Someone just requested permanent deletion of the detention visitor's original credential history. The request was approved five minutes ago.*
May you like
And the authorization attached to it belonged to the same office that had approved Charles Grant's access to my ceremony.
General Lucas Monroe's office.
