The name 17 Birch moved through the command post like an electrical current.
A records officer at headquarters pulled the address while Dana kept Brian talking inside. The house at 17 Birch had been searched eleven months earlier during a narcotics warrant. Detective Brian Keene had been listed as the lead investigator. The official return showed no cash seized, no jewelry collected, no safe recovered, and no property damage beyond the front door.
But the homeowner had filed a private insurance claim three days later.
Missing safe.
Damaged basement panel.
Cash not recovered.
Complaint withdrawn after an officer told her the claim might interfere with an active investigation.
Dana did not know those details yet, but she knew enough from Brian’s reaction to keep pressing.
“Brian,” she said, “Frank is not your problem anymore.”
“He was my problem the second he started digging.”
“Digging into what?”
“Ask your captain.”
That landed differently.
Not chief. Not Internal Affairs. Not command.
Captain.
Dana knew which captain he meant before she wanted to.
Captain Lyle Morris.
Head of the property crimes division. Brian’s direct supervisor. A polished man with a clean desk, clean suits, and the kind of reputation city leaders liked because he made ugly numbers look manageable. Morris had vouched for Brian more than once during informal complaints. Dana had heard him call Brian “old-school but effective.”
Now Brian had brought his title into a hostage room.
Dana kept her face blank.
“What does Captain Morris have to do with Frank?”
Brian smiled again, but it was weaker now. “You really don’t know.”
“No.”
“That’s why they sent you in first.”
“Who is they?”
He shook his head. “Still playing.”
Dana glanced at Frank. “Frank, did Captain Morris know about your file?”
Brian shouted, “He doesn’t know Morris.”
Frank gasped as the arm tightened across him.
Dana stepped half a pace forward before stopping herself.
“Loosen your arm.”
“Back up.”
“Frank’s going to pass out.”
“Then he should stop talking.”
“You need him conscious.”
Brian’s eyes narrowed.
Dana had guessed right.
Frank was not just a shield. He was leverage. Brian needed him alive long enough to find the file or force him to reveal where the backup was.
Outside, Captain Morris arrived at the command post.
The moment his car pulled up, the radio traffic shifted. Dana did not hear all of it, but she heard enough: Morris was asking to take command, asking whether Brian had said anything, asking whether body cameras were active.
Sergeant Wells’s earpiece clicked.
A low voice from dispatch said, “Captain Morris on scene.”
Brian watched Dana’s face.
He saw the smallest change.
Then he smiled.
“There he is,” Brian whispered.
And Dana realized the man outside might be more dangerous than the one holding the grenade.