Chapter 1 — The Briar Case

But she could not remember conducting that photo array.She could remember the rest of the Briar investigation with the crisp specificity of a case that had been well-worked. She could remember the garage, the car, the smell of the parking structure in October. She could remember Morrow's face when they arrested him — not surprised, which had struck her at the time as telling.She could not remember sitting with Derek Chu and showing him photographs.She picked up her phone. She nearly called Marcus's number, the number she'd called a hundred times in nine years for exactly this kind of 2 AM case question, and then remembered why she couldn't.She put the phone down.She went back to the file.She was looking for Calloway.— ◆ —The name Calloway did not appear in the Briar file.She had searched it twice — every page, every attached document, the evidence log, the interview transcripts. Nothing.She pulled up the digital version on her laptop and ran a text search. Nothing.She searched the broader case database, linked files, the prosecutor's submission. Nothing.Not a suspect, Marcus had said. A key.She closed her laptop. She looked at the kitchen ceiling.Don't talk to Whitmore about this. Don't talk to anyone at the department.Lieutenant David Whitmore had been her commanding officer for six years. He'd supervised the Briar investigation. He'd signed off on the case closure. He was, by every available measure, a good cop and a fair supervisor.The fact that Marcus had specifically named him was the most alarming thing in the voicemail.Not more alarming than the voicemail existing at all.But alarming.She made coffee. She sat at the kitchen table until dawn. She did not sleep.At 7:15 AM, her phone rang. The screen said: Unknown Number.She answered.Marcus Hale's voice said: "Good. You're awake. We don't have much time."