Her name was Evelyn Carter.

She was seventy-two.

Retired school secretary.

Widowed.

Three grandchildren.

She had been walking to the park café when Briggs stopped Marcus.

Evelyn recorded nearly two minutes on her phone.

More importantly, she had started recording before Briggs pulled out the bag.

Her video clearly showed his hand entering Marcus’s pocket.

Afterward, Marcus thanked her personally.

“Keep the original file.”

Evelyn smiled.

“My granddaughter tells me I never delete anything.”

“Today that’s a good habit.”

Because the case was attracting national attention, state investigators moved Evelyn temporarily to a hotel outside the city.

At 11:40 p.m., an investigator knocked on Marcus’s door.

Evelyn’s room was empty.

Her suitcase remained.

Her medication remained.

Her phone was on the bed.

No sign of a struggle.

The security camera outside the room had been turned away from the hallway.

Marcus was dressed and downstairs within three minutes.

“Who knew she was here?”

The investigator checked his notes.

“Our team.”

“Who else?”

“Colonel Ross.”

Marcus looked at him.

“Why Ross?”

“He arranged the hotel.”

That made sense.

Ross was Marcus’s liaison with state law enforcement.

He routinely coordinated security.

Marcus called him.

Ross answered on the second ring.

“Marcus?”

“Evelyn Carter is missing.”

Silence.

Then:

“What?”

“How many people knew the hotel?”

“Three on my end.”

“Names.”

Ross gave them.

Marcus knew all three.

Two had worked for him for years.

Ross sounded furious.

“I’ll get people moving.”

“Don’t.”

“What?”

“Keep the circle small.”

Ross paused.

“Marcus, a witness has disappeared.”

“Exactly.”

After the call, Marcus stood alone in the hotel lobby.

Rain had begun outside.

Something was wrong.

He thought about Leonard Price’s photograph.

Someone had known Leonard visited Marcus.

Now someone knew where Evelyn was hidden.

Information was moving faster than the investigation.

Marcus looked through Evelyn’s recovered phone.

The original park video was there.

So whoever took her had not come for the recording.

Why take the witness but leave the evidence?

Then Marcus found a new photograph in her phone.

Taken that evening.

Evelyn had photographed a black SUV parked across from the hotel.

The license plate was visible.

Marcus sent it to a state database.

The answer came back within minutes.

The vehicle belonged to a private security company.

Northstar Protective Services.

Marcus knew the name.

Northstar had received a multimillion-dollar state contract the previous year.

Its job was to protect emergency government facilities during natural disasters.

The contract had been approved by the Public Safety Integrity Commission.

Marcus’s own commission.

And the recommendation had come from Colonel Nathan Ross.

Marcus stared at the screen.

He still did not believe Ross was involved.

But for the first time, he allowed himself to ask the question.