Chapter 3 - A Door That Locked from the Outside
The latch clicked behind me.
Price kept his finger on the desk phone. "This doesn't need to become unpleasant."
I lifted one crutch. "Then unlock the door."
He leaned back, studying me. "You always were stubborn. Your brother too. That's what put him in danger."
"The explosion put him in danger. What killed him?"
His silence lasted one second too long.
"You're confusing grief with evidence," he said. "That piece of paper has no chain of custody. It proves nothing."
"Then why do you want it?"
A knock interrupted him. Major Alicia Bell stepped in, wearing the gold-and-black insignia of the military criminal investigative office. I knew her reputation: quiet, relentless, and not impressed by powerful men.
"Sir," she said, "I was asked to document an allegation involving Sergeant Voss. Staff Sergeant Whitcomb is my witness."
Price's jaw tightened. "This is a command matter."
"A possible assault in a public dining facility is an investigative matter."
He told her to wait outside. She didn't move. For the first time since I entered, I could breathe.
I tucked the note into my sleeve and stood. "My statement will include what happened here."
Price smiled without warmth. "Be careful which battles you pick."
Outside, Bell walked me to an empty conference room. "Do you have something I should know about?" she asked.
I almost told her everything. Then I remembered the text: DO NOT TAKE THAT PAPER TO PRICE. It hadn't said anything about Bell, but someone inside this building was watching.
"Not yet," I said. "I need to make sure a witness is safe."
Bell nodded once. "Then make sure you don't go alone."
At seven that evening, I went to my mother's house. She still kept Liam's high school baseball glove by the coat rack. When I showed her a photo of the note, she put a hand over her mouth.
"Those are his letters," she whispered. "Nobody ever believed me when I said his handwriting was on the last postcard."
"What postcard?"
She opened the cedar box where she kept his medals and laid out a stained card I'd never seen. It had arrived six months after his death without a return address.
On the back Liam had written: "If the trucks stop, follow the blue seal."
My mother gripped my wrist. "I didn't tell you because I thought somebody was being cruel."
My phone rang. Addie was calling from the base. I answered and heard her breathing too fast.
"Nora, somebody just wiped the dining hall security footage," she said. "Every camera except one. And on that one, the man who sent you the message is standing right behind Voss."
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"Who is it?"
"Your brother's old medic. Owen Finch. He's supposed to be dead too."
