“I shouldn't have cuffed you.”
Better.
“I shouldn't have used my badge in a family argument.”
There.
I nodded.
“Correct.”
He looked almost offended by the lack of immediate forgiveness.
Then caught himself.
“I’m sorry.”
“I believe you.”
“You forgive me?”
“Not yet.”
His jaw tightened automatically.
Then relaxed.
“That’s fair.”
It was the first truly mature sentence I had heard from Derek all day.
Sheriff Mercer placed Thomas’s papers on the table.
We examined them.
Most were electrical diagrams.
Gate wiring.
Emergency bypasses.
Maintenance codes long retired.
Then one page contained names.
Four.
Thomas Carter.
Patrick Shaw.
Martin Keene.
Daniel Mercer.
I looked at the sheriff.
He stared at his own name.
“You worked there?”
“No.”
He looked genuinely stunned.
“I was a patrol deputy eighteen years ago.”
Derek pointed.
“Why would Dad write your name?”
Mercer shook his head.
“I don't know.”
Another name, Patrick Shaw, belonged to the former sheriff.
Mercer’s predecessor.
The same man who oversaw Thomas’s crash investigation.
Martin Keene had been county emergency-management director.
Dead now.
Heart attack seven years earlier.
I looked at Mercer.
“You knew them both.”
“Yes.”
“Professionally?”
“Of course.”
“Personally?”
He hesitated.
“Shaw mentored me.”
Derek looked at him.
“You said his handling of Dad’s case may have been a conflict.”
“Yes.”
“You never suspected him before?”
“No.”
The answer was immediate.
Too immediate?
Maybe.
But suspicion without foundation was cheap.
I returned to the notebook.
One sentence was written beneath the four names.
BACKUP LINE DOESN’T FAIL BY ACCIDENT. SOMEONE WANTS AN UNLOGGED DOOR.
Marcus leaned closer.
“That’s interesting.”
Derek looked at me.
“What does it mean?”
“Your father suspected someone was manipulating the backup access system.”
“For what?”
“Unknown.”
I turned the page.
Another sentence.
SHAW SAYS DROP IT.
Mercer closed his eyes.
Derek swore.
Todd, who had been excluded from the site, called Derek repeatedly.
Derek silenced his phone.
I kept reading.
M.K. says county emergency plan needs private bypass. No paperwork. Refused.
Martin Keene.
Emergency-management director.
P.S. says I don't understand bigger picture.
Patrick Shaw.
Former sheriff.
Then:
D.M. asked questions. He may not know why.
Daniel Mercer.
The current sheriff read it twice.
“I asked Thomas about after-hours vehicles near the site.”
Everybody looked at him.
Memory returned slowly.
“I was a young deputy.”
He rubbed his forehead.
“There had been reports of trucks using County Route 18 late at night.”
“What kind?”
“County trucks. Utility vehicles.”
“Related?”
“I don't know.”
“What did Thomas tell you?”
“He said maintenance.”
“Did you believe him?”
“I think so.”