“Did you go into my office?”
“Yes.”
“What did you see?”
She looked toward the sheriff.
Then toward Marcus.
“I shouldn't talk about this here.”
Mercer nodded.
“For once, I agree.”
He looked toward Derek.
“Deputy Nolan, surrender your duty weapon.”
Everyone froze.
Derek stared.
“What?”
“This isn't an arrest.”
“Then no.”
“It is an administrative order pending review.”
“You think I’m involved?”
“I think your credential was used to access a restricted site and recovered from a relative’s vehicle.”
“My mother.”
“Yes.”
“You just said cameras put me across town.”
“I also said this is an administrative order.”
Derek looked at the faces around him.
The same family members he had spent years impressing with authority were now watching him receive orders.
The irony was impossible to miss.
His pride fought his training.
Training won.
Barely.
He removed his sidearm carefully.
Cleared it.
Handed it to Mercer grip-first.
Then removed his department badge.
Mercer shook his head.
“Keep the badge.”
Derek held it.
The metal suddenly looked much smaller than it had an hour earlier.
Mercer continued.
“You’re relieved from field duty until this is resolved.”
Derek nodded once.
The movement cost him something.
Marcus looked toward me.
“We still need to go.”
I nodded.
Dad stood.
“Rachel.”
I looked at him.
His eyes were wet.
“Thomas.”
“I know.”
“You're going to look into this?”
“I’ll make sure the right people do.”
He grabbed my hand.
Not the cuffed one.
The other.
“He was my little brother.”
“I know.”
“If I missed something…”
“Dad.”
He stopped.
“We don't know yet.”
That was one of the hardest disciplines in any investigation.
Not allowing emotion to become evidence.
My father wanted guilt.
Derek wanted innocence.
Rebecca wanted the past to remain past.
I wanted truth.
Truth had no obligation to satisfy any of us.
I climbed into the government SUV beside Marcus.
Before the door closed, Grandma Evelyn called my name.
I turned.
She stood near the picnic table.
“Rachel.”
“Yes?”
She looked toward my shoulder.
Then at me.
“I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“For not asking enough questions.”
That hurt more than Derek’s handcuff.
I nodded.
Then got into the SUV.
The communications site on County Route 18 sat behind two layers of fencing and a stand of pine trees that made it nearly invisible from the road.
By the time we arrived, federal investigators had already secured the perimeter.
I changed mental gears before the SUV stopped.
Family disappeared.
Profession took over.
At least temporarily.
The attempted access had been simple.
Too simple.
Someone used Derek’s credential at the outer county-integrated gate.
The card was valid.
The system opened the first barrier.
The individual approached the inner perimeter.
That required a second authentication they did not possess.
The alarm activated.
The intruder fled.
No breach.
No stolen material.
No sabotage.
On paper, unsuccessful.
But the method mattered.
The person knew the outer gate recognized county credentials.
That information was not widely publicized.