Chapter 5 - the officer's crest
A heavy silence hung over the radio frequency before Vance's voice answered again, carrying a bitter, raspy edge.
"You always were too quick on the draw, Daniel. Even with a retired dog."
"Why are you targeting my sister's family, Thomas?" Daniel asked, his eyes scanning the dark treeline behind the patio fence. "We were partners for eight years. You know Claire has nothing to do with what happened at the precinct."
"She has the box, Daniel!" Vance snapped over the speaker, his voice tight with desperation. "The wooden memory box you left in her attic five years ago! The state commissioner gave me twenty-four hours to produce the master drive, or my daughter doesn't leave the federal holding facility in Chicago!"
Daniel's jaw tightened as the pieces of the puzzle suddenly fell into place. "Harrison... Chief Commissioner Harrison is blackmailing you."
"Harrison ran the offshore accounts from day one!" Vance spat. "He used the grand jury investigation to sweep the precinct clean! He thinks you kept the backup drive inside that old officer's crest box you gave Claire!"
Daniel let out a slow, deliberate breath. Five years ago, when he retired after the precinct ambush, he had packed up his old academy awards, certificates, and personal police mementos into a small carved cedar box, leaving it with Claire for safekeeping while he relocated to his farm upstate. He had believed it contained nothing more than yellowed newspaper clippings and silver badges.
"Vance," Daniel said into the radio. "Harrison lied to you. There is no backup drive in that box."
"Search the attic, Daniel!" Vance pleaded, his voice cracking. "Search it before Harrison's tactical squad gets to this block! They aren't coming to negotiate!"
The radio went dead.
Daniel turned back into the house, locking the patio door behind him. He walked quickly up the grand staircase to the master suite, knocking three times on the walk-in closet door—their private childhood signal.
The heavy door opened, and Michael stepped out, holding a heavy golf club, with Claire hugging Noah tightly behind him.
"Is it safe?" Claire asked.
"For now," Daniel said, looking at his sister. "Claire, where is the cedar memory box I gave you five years ago?"
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Claire blinked, her brows knitting together. "It's in the attic... in the corner behind Noah's old baby crib. Dan, what is in that box?"
"Answers," Daniel said, turning toward the attic pull-down stairs in the hallway ceiling.
