A narrow slit ran along the inner seam.
Marcus turned the notebook upside down.
A tiny rectangular object fell onto the table.
A black electronic tracking device.
Ramirez stared.
“Was that there before?”
“No.”
Marcus looked at Evelyn.
“They weren't just trying to arrest me.”
He lifted the device carefully by its edges.
“They wanted to know where I went after they let me out.”
The room went silent.
Then a forensic specialist examined the device without activating it.
His expression tightened.
“This isn't an ordinary location tracker.”
Marcus frowned.
“What is it?”
The specialist turned it beneath the overhead light.
“It's capable of transmitting audio.”
Evelyn immediately signaled for all personal devices to be set aside.
Marcus looked at the notebook.
He had carried it through the station, into the command office, and into this very building.
If the device had been transmitting, the people hunting Daniel Mercer's secrets might already know what the investigators had discovered.
And somewhere in Riverside, three corrupt officers could be preparing their next move.
The Woman Who Had Been Hiding in Plain Sight
Grace Brooks lived in a small yellow house at the edge of Riverside's oldest residential neighborhood.
The paint was peeling around the front porch, and flowerpots lined the wooden steps. A faded American flag hung beside the door.
At first glance, it was an ordinary home belonging to an ordinary retired woman.
Marcus knew better than to trust appearances.
He arrived shortly after sunset in an unmarked state vehicle with Evelyn Shaw and Lieutenant Ramirez.
Two state investigators had already checked the surrounding streets.
There were no suspicious vehicles parked nearby.
No obvious surveillance teams.
But Marcus remained cautious.
The tracking device discovered in his notebook had forced the investigators to move their temporary command post to another location.
It had also revealed an uncomfortable truth.
Someone had gained physical access to Marcus's belongings while he was detained.
That person had been close enough to plant the device without attracting attention.
Marcus suspected Caldwell.
But he hadn't ruled out Mullen, the unidentified transport officers, or anyone else who had handled the scattered documents.
Grace opened her front door only after Evelyn identified herself through the intercom.
The woman was sixty-three, with tired eyes and silver hair pulled loosely behind her head.
She looked at Marcus's credentials.
Then her gaze settled on his face.
“You're the new police chief.”
“Yes, ma'am.”
“The one they arrested.”
Marcus nodded.
“That's me.”
Grace gave a sad, humorless smile.
“Then perhaps you finally understand what kind of department you're running.”
She stepped aside.
“Come in.”
The living room was warm and filled with photographs.
Most showed Natalie at different ages.
Natalie as a child riding a bicycle.
Natalie wearing a graduation gown.
Natalie laughing beside a Christmas tree.
Natalie holding a certificate from a university business program.
Marcus stopped beside a photograph of the young woman standing in front of the Riverside municipal building.
“She was proud of her job,” Grace said.
Marcus turned.
“Working for Civic Shield?”
“At first.”
Grace led them to a small dining table.
“She thought she'd found a way to help the city. She believed the company was developing programs to improve emergency services.”
“What changed?”
Grace sat.
“About a year before she disappeared, Natalie started coming home late. She stopped talking about work. She began checking the locks twice before bed.”
Marcus listened.
“One evening, I found her crying in the kitchen.”
Grace's voice trembled.
“She told me she'd discovered payments that didn't make sense. She said officers were receiving money through accounts that weren't supposed to exist.”
“Did she tell you which officers?”
“No. She said knowing the names would put me in danger.”
Evelyn leaned forward.
“Did she mention Daniel Mercer?”
Grace nodded.
“He was helping her.”
“How did they meet?”
“Through a church volunteer program. Daniel used to help organize food deliveries for elderly residents. Natalie volunteered there on weekends.”
Grace reached for a tissue.
“She trusted him. She said he was the first officer who listened without making her feel foolish.”
Marcus looked at the photographs.
“When did you last see Natalie?”
“Nine months and twelve days ago.”
She answered without checking a calendar.
Marcus had heard that precision before.
Parents of missing children counted days differently from everyone else.
“Tell me about that day.”
Grace folded her hands.
“Natalie came home around six. She looked exhausted. She said she needed to leave town for a little while.”
“Did she explain why?”
“She told me not to ask.”
“What happened next?”
“She packed a small suitcase. Then her phone rang.”
Grace closed her eyes.
“She answered, listened, and turned white.”
“Did you hear the caller?”
“No.”
“What did Natalie say?”
Grace opened her eyes.
“She said, ‘You promised Daniel wouldn't get hurt.’”
Marcus felt the room grow colder.
Evelyn exchanged a glance with Ramirez.
Grace continued.
“Then Natalie started crying. She asked the caller to leave me alone.”
“What happened after the call?”
“She told me she loved me. She hugged me and walked out.”
“Did you see a vehicle?”
“A dark SUV.”
“Driver?”
“The windows were tinted.”
“License plate?”
Grace shook her head.
“I tried to remember. I really did.”
Marcus leaned forward.
“Mrs. Brooks, you've remembered more than most people could after nine months.”
Grace looked at him.
“Then why hasn't anybody found her?”
The question hung in the air.
Marcus did not offer an easy promise.
Because he knew the truth.
Some missing persons were found.
Some were not.
And no investigator had the right to guarantee an outcome simply to make a grieving family feel better.
“Because the people assigned to investigate may have been protecting whoever took her,” he said.
Grace stared.
“You really believe that?”
“Yes.”
Her hands began trembling.
“I told them. I told the detectives something was wrong. Captain Hale said Natalie was an adult and could leave whenever she wanted.”
Ramirez looked down.
Grace turned toward her.
“You were there.”
Ramirez lifted her eyes.
“Yes, Mrs. Brooks.”
“You stood beside him.”
“I did.”
“And you didn't say anything.”
Ramirez's face flushed.
“No.”
Grace's expression hardened.
“Why should I trust you now?”
Ramirez took a breath.
“You shouldn't trust me just because I'm wearing a badge. I failed to challenge what was happening. I can't undo that. But I can tell the truth now, and I can help find your daughter.”
Grace stared at her for a long time.
Finally, she rose from the table.
“There's something I never gave the police.”
Marcus stood.
“What is it?”
Grace walked into a bedroom.
She returned carrying an old sewing box.
Inside were buttons, thread, needles, and a small velvet pouch.
She opened the pouch.
A silver necklace fell into her palm.
It was shaped like a bird.
Marcus recognized it from Natalie's photograph.
“She left this behind.”
Grace turned the pendant over.
On the back was a narrow seam.
“Natalie wore this every day. She told me if she ever disappeared, I should keep it somewhere safe.”