Simone examined the hallway cameras.
Three cameras.
Two had been disabled.
The third had recorded nothing but static.
Daniel stared at the monitor.
"Professional."
"Too professional," Simone said.
Brent crossed his arms.
"Could be someone inside the department."
Simone didn't answer.
She had already considered that possibility.
The evidence pointed toward someone with access to municipal records, knowledge of the archive, and familiarity with security systems.
Then Daniel noticed something.
"Wait."
He rewound the footage.
At 2:14 a.m., a shadow appeared briefly at the far end of the hallway.
The figure stopped.
Looked directly at the camera.
Then walked away.
"Can you enhance it?"
"Already trying."
The image sharpened.
A jacket.
A shoulder.
A small metallic object clipped near the waist.
Simone stared.
"What is that?"
Brent leaned closer.
"Access badge."
They enlarged the frame.
The badge number was barely visible.
Daniel entered it into the municipal access database.
The result appeared.
Simone's expression hardened.
"That's impossible."
"What?"
"That badge was deactivated eight years ago."
"Whose was it?"
Simone looked at the screen.
"Marcus Vale's father."
Brent shook his head.
"He's dead."
"I know."
"Then someone is using his old credentials."
Simone nodded.
"And they want us to find them."
The next morning, Simone met Elaine again.
But this time, Elaine brought a box.
Inside were letters, receipts, old photographs, and handwritten notes.
"I kept everything," she said.
Simone smiled.
"That's going to help."
Among the papers was a letter from Marcus Vale's father.
It contained a single sentence that changed the investigation.
The land is not the prize. The access road is.
Simone read it twice.
The green space was only a distraction.
The real value was an access road connecting the neighborhood to a planned commercial development.
If the road could be transferred into private control, millions of dollars would change hands.
Daniel looked up.
"So they're not stealing the park."
"No," Simone said.
"They're stealing the road."
Elaine whispered:
"What happens now?"
Simone closed the box.
"Now we stop them."
The public hearing was scheduled for Friday morning.
Hundreds of residents arrived.
Some supported the development.
Others opposed it.
Most simply wanted to understand what was happening.
Marcus Vale stood at the front of the room wearing an expensive dark suit.
He looked calm.
Too calm.
When Simone entered, his eyes met hers.
He smiled.
"You've been busy."
"So have you."
Marcus laughed.
"I hope you understand that property disputes are not criminal matters."
"Forgery is."