Chapter 2 - The Man Inside My Office
I did not call Miles back.
I called the police.
Then my bureau’s internal-affairs duty officer.
Then my director.
In that order.
I had investigated financial fraud for twelve years.
The worst mistake investigators make is assuming expertise makes them immune to shock.
It doesn’t.
It only gives you vocabulary while your hands shake.
At 12:02 a.m., two detectives arrived.
I gave them the phone.
The screenshots.
The threatening call log.
I did not search Elena’s folder further.
That mattered.
Once a criminal threat existed, I stopped playing investigator inside my own family.
Detective Caroline Hayes, forty-four, asked:
“Do you know Miles Grant?”
“He’s my deputy director.”
“Does he have access to your workstation?”
“Not normally.”
“Your office?”
“Yes.”
“After hours?”
“With building credentials.”
Then internal affairs sent Special Investigator Thomas Reed.
No one let me touch agency systems.
Correct.
“You are removed from all active investigations involving Grant until further notice.”
I hated hearing it.
“Understood.”
Then:
“And Adrian, do not access case-management databases from home.”
“Understood.”
Elena sat wrapped in blanket.
Detective Hayes asked permission to interview separately.
I left room.
When she finished, Elena looked exhausted.
“What did you tell them?”
“The truth.”
Good.
Then Hayes interviewed me.
“Why would Grant threaten your wife?”
“I don’t know.”
“Any sensitive case involving him?”
“No.”
Then I remembered.
Harbor Crest Capital.
An eighteen-month investigation into investment fraud targeting municipal retirement systems and small pension funds.
Advertised low-risk bridge lending.
In reality, funds moved through related shell companies and distressed real estate.
Estimated investor losses:
Initially $22 million.
We had traced about $8 million.
One confidential source recently suggested somebody inside enforcement was warning targets before subpoenas arrived.
Miles had dismissed it.
“Source is protecting himself,” he said.
I believed him.
Now I wasn’t sure.
Detective Hayes asked:
“Does Grant know your wife personally?”
“Met her twice.”
“When?”
“Office holiday party. My promotion reception.”
Elena spoke from sofa:
“Three times.”
I turned.
“When?”
“Your mother introduced him to me at the charity dinner last month.”
My mother.
“What?”
“You were talking to the commissioner. Margaret came over with him.”
I remembered vaguely.
Miles smiling.
Margaret calling him “Adrian’s sensible colleague.”
I had assumed they had just met.
Elena continued:
“She said he understood how stressful your job was.”
Then Detective Hayes:
“Did Margaret communicate with him?”
“I don't know.”
Elena whispered:
“Yes.”
All of us turned.
“How do you know?”
“Entry 233.”
She knew the number.
Of course.
Four hundred twelve.
She unlocked phone.
Detective took.
Entry 233:
Margaret left phone on kitchen island. A message preview appeared: “Don’t confront her yet. Keep documenting.” Sender saved as MG.
Photograph attached.
No full number visible.
Then another entry.
Margaret told someone on phone: “He’ll believe official paperwork.”
I felt sick.
Official paperwork.
Forged affidavit.
My mother was not merely insulting Elena.
She was coordinating.
Question was whether she knew with whom.
Then Detective Hayes asked:
“Where is Margaret now?”
Hotel near airport, according card charge? We didn't know. I called no one. Police located through normal means.
They instructed no contact.
Then Director Nora Bennett called me at 1:20 a.m.
Her voice was clipped.
“Adrian, Miles is not answering his phone.”
“Where is he?”
“We don’t know.”
“Building?”
“His badge was used at 10:47 tonight.”
My stomach dropped.
“After I came home.”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“Fourth floor.”
FIN-OPS-4B.
Then:
“Someone accessed your office suite.”
I looked at Elena.
The forged files traced to my office.
Miles had returned there tonight.
Internal security locked the building.
State police responded.
At 2:11 a.m., they found my office door open.
No Miles.
My desk looked normal.
But one locked evidence cabinet had been forced.
Inside should have been duplicate working files from Harbor Crest.
Three binders were missing.
And on my computer screen someone had left a single document open.
A psychiatric evaluation.
Patient:
Elena Walker.
Diagnosis:
Severe delusional disorder with paranoid fixation.
Doctor:
A physician who had never treated my wife.
The signature was forged.
May you like
The document was dated three weeks in the future.
After our baby’s expected birth.
