My Little Girl Put a Balloon Under Her Shirt and Said, “Daddy, I’m Pregnant Too!”—Then She Revealed a Secret That Made My Pregnant Wife Turn Pale.

They had copied my signature well. Not perfectly. My capital E always ended in a short hook; the forgery ended in a loop. I showed Reed the difference while Vega called the county offices.

"Who approved this?" I asked.

"Deputy Director Martin Hale," Reed said.

Martin had supervised me for four years. He'd congratulated us when Claire got pregnant. He bought Ruby a stuffed rabbit for her birthday. I suddenly hated the thought of that toy in her bed.

"Call him," I said. "Right now."

Vega did. Martin didn't answer. His assistant said he'd left for an early inspection at Riverside.

The demolition firm, Blackridge Development, was a subsidiary of a holding company linked to one of the bank accounts on the microfilm. Reed had enough for a warrant request, but the judge was unreachable until morning. The machinery was already rolling.

"Someone wants that building gone before anyone can search it," I said.

"Agreed," Reed replied. "And we won't send you in."

"You need me to identify the sealed access."

"You can do that from the plans."

I pulled up the digitized floor layout on my laptop. The basement storage wing appeared as an empty rectangle. But I remembered a site walk the previous month, a damp corridor behind the old boiler room, a wall that sounded hollow when workers tapped it.

Reed studied the image. "We'll send a tactical team."

Claire came into the kitchen. She'd overheard enough. "If Daniel is alive, he's going to be there."

"Maybe," I said.

"He knows where the records are."

"And maybe he helped hide them."

We exchanged a look neither of us liked. For years, Claire had remembered Daniel as the man who saved her after her mother's death. Now that kindness had shadows.

My work phone rang. Martin's name filled the screen.

I answered without speaking.

"Evan," he said pleasantly, "I hear you're having a rough week."

"Where are you?"

"At the office. Why?"

Through the call, I heard an engine reversing and a familiar backup alarm. A demolition truck.