Chapter 4 - SERGEANT MAJOR REED
Douglas Reed was sixty two.
Retired.
Living outside Temple.
Military investigators contacted him before I ever did.
I was not allowed to turn into my own detective just because cybersecurity was my profession.
But Reed asked to speak with me.
With investigators present.
He arrived using a cane.
Old knee injury.
Straight posture.
He looked at my bruised face and said:
“I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“That baton should never have ended up in your house.”
“Did you give it to Ryan?”
“No.”
Ryan lied.
Again.
Reed explained.
Fourteen months earlier, he discovered irregular exports from a logistics modernization server.
The system tracked equipment movement and civilian supplier transactions.
Most data was unclassified.
Some was sensitive procurement information.
He suspected someone was extracting:
Vendor IDs.
Bid timing.
Maintenance needs.
Contact lists.
Why valuable?
A broker who knew which supplier needed a replacement contract before announcement could position a company.
A scammer could target vendors.
A corrupt consultant could sell access.
Reed reported internally.
A review started.
Then a copy of the export log disappeared from the network.
Reed had already saved one version to hardened storage.
Why hide it inside a baton?
“Because everyone knew my office had challenge coins and ceremonial junk. Nobody looked twice.”
It was not an official evidence procedure.
He admitted that.
He intended to deliver the device to investigators the next morning.
That night, baton disappeared.
Who had access?
Several people.
Including Ryan.
Including Gavin Cole.
Including command staff.
Cameras?
Maintenance outage.
Convenient.
But real maintenance tickets existed.
No proof intentional.
Ryan was interviewed.
Denied.
Gavin denied.
No device recovered.
Reed retired months later.
The inquiry remained unresolved.
“What was Ryan doing on the project?”
“Inventory liaison.”
“He could access export logs?”
“Some.”
“Could he understand the data?”
“Enough.”
“Did you suspect him?”
Reed took time.
“I suspected everyone with access.”
Good answer.
Then:
“Ryan was having money trouble.”
I stared.
“When?”
“Before his discharge.”
Ryan never told me.
Gambling?
No.
Medical bills?
No.
A failed investment.
He and Gavin had invested in a small veteran owned logistics company called Sentinel Supply Partners.
The company expected government subcontracting work.
It lost bids.
Collapsed.
Ryan lost almost ninety thousand dollars.
I knew nothing.
Our finances were separate partly because of my business exposure.
He had hidden debt.
Then his injury.
Medical discharge.
Employment problems.
Resentment.
Reed said:
“He became angry at the system.”
“That does not make him a thief.”
“No.”
Again, precise.
Then Reed asked me:
“Has anyone tried to access your company through Ryan?”
My body went cold.
“Why?”
“Because one export list included cybersecurity contacts for approved suppliers.”
My firm?
“Your company’s old name was on it.”
Before rebranding, my consulting firm operated as Grant Cyber Defense.
We had worked as subcontractor for a defense supplier.
The list could have identified me as a vendor security contact years before Ryan’s current behavior.
“Did Ryan know?”
“He saw the list during legitimate work.”
So my husband knew my company sat somewhere inside the same data he later allegedly concealed.
Then Reed said something worse.
“Gavin asked about you.”
“When?”
“About sixteen months ago.”
Before the baton disappeared.
“What did he ask?”
“Whether Lisa Grant was Ryan’s wife.”
Reed answered yes.
Gavin smiled.
Then:
“That could solve our problem.”
“What problem?”
Reed said he asked.
Gavin changed subject.
At the time it meant nothing.
Now it meant everything.
Then investigators brought Reed a still image from the recovered storage module’s header.
The device had not been fully decrypted.
But an unencrypted index contained filenames.
SUPPLIER_ACCESS.
EXPORT_LOG.
GCOLE.
RWALKER.
LGRANT.
My name.
Not only my company.
Me.
Reed looked genuinely surprised.
“That was not on my original file list.”
“What does that mean?”
“Someone added files after the baton disappeared.”
The storage device did not remain untouched.
Ryan or somebody else opened the baton after stealing it.
Added new information.
May you like
Then hid it in my living room for more than a year.
Continue to the next part: Forensic indexing shows someone modified the baton’s hidden storage after it disappeared, adding a file named specifically for Lisa.
