Chapter 5 - The Judge in the Hallway
We were back at the courthouse in twenty-two minutes.
Federal security had already locked down the evidence floor.
Judge Harrison wasn't there.
Neither was Ethan.
The photograph had shown them together at 8:17 p.m.
At 8:21, the evidence alarm triggered.
At 8:24, cameras on the west corridor went offline.
At 8:29, both men disappeared from surveillance.
Rebecca called the clerk.
No answer.
She called the U.S. marshal assigned to the courthouse.
That got attention.
By nine o'clock, an assistant U.S. attorney named Caleb Morris was questioning all of us in a conference room.
"You understand how this looks?" he asked.
I almost smiled.
"I've spent two days learning how everything looks."
Morris was young enough to seem too young for his job and tired enough to prove he wasn't.
He looked at Hale.
"Why were you monitoring Ethan Bennett?"
"I wasn't."
"You received a call immediately informing you he'd entered the courthouse."
"Corporate security notified me."
"Why?"
"Because Ethan accessed a restricted server from inside the courthouse network."
Rebecca leaned forward.
"Which server?"
Hale looked at her.
"Our federal contract identity gateway."
There it was again.
The same system tied to my missing records.
Morris asked, "What did he access?"
"I don't know."
"Can you find out?"
"Yes."
"Do it."
Hale opened his laptop.
For several minutes, nobody spoke.
Mom sat near the wall.
She hadn't looked at me since we left the diner.
David stood by the door.
I watched everyone.
Too many secrets.
Too many people who knew partial truths.
That had been Dad's problem.
He had distributed information because he didn't trust any single person.
Now we were all pieces of his puzzle.
Hale finally turned the laptop around.
A list of access events.
One username appeared repeatedly.
EBENNETT.
Ethan.
Timestamped over the last four months.
"What is he doing?" Morris asked.
"Searching identity-verification logs."
"Claire's?"
"Some."
"Others?"
"Yes."
"How many?"
Hale scrolled.
"Twenty-seven."
David stepped closer.
"That's more than Arthur found."
Hale looked at him.
"Arthur's list was incomplete."
"You knew?"
"I discovered anomalies before he did."
"Then why didn't you report them?"
"I did."
"To whom?"
Hale hesitated.
Morris noticed.
"Mr. Hale."
"I reported them to our government program liaison."
"Name."
"Colonel Nathan Ward."
David went still.
I saw it.
"Nathan Ward?" I asked.
David didn't answer.
"David."
He looked at me.
"Ward oversaw one of our classified communications programs."
"When?"
"2018."
The year of the explosion.
The year Dad's photograph had been taken.
I turned to Hale.
"What happened after you reported it?"
"Ward told me to stop investigating."
"Why?"
"He said the activity was part of an authorized counterintelligence review."
"Was it?"
"I don't know."
"Did Dad know about Ward?"
"Eventually."
Mom whispered, "That's the name."
Everyone turned.
"What?" I asked.
She gripped her purse.
"Arthur said that name the week before he died."
"What did he say?"
"He was on the phone in his study. I heard him say, 'Ward has been inside this from the beginning.'"
David's face hardened.
Morris began taking notes faster.
Rebecca asked, "Where is Colonel Ward now?"
David said, "Retired."
"Can we reach him?"
"Probably."
Hale shook his head.
"No."
"Why?"
He rotated the laptop again.
A corporate travel-security bulletin had loaded.
COLONEL NATHAN WARD — DECEASED.
Date of death: three months ago.
Cause: vehicle accident.
The room fell silent.
Dad dead.
Ward dead.
My records altered.
Ethan digging through identity systems.
Mom coerced with a fake threat.
Judge Harrison appearing outside an evidence room.
This wasn't an inheritance case anymore.
Morris received a call.
He listened.
Then his eyes moved toward Rebecca.
"Judge Harrison has been located."
"Where?"
"His chambers."
"Then why wasn't he answering?"
"He collapsed."
Mom gasped.
"Is he alive?"
"Yes. Paramedics are taking him to the hospital."
"What happened?" I asked.
"They don't know."
"And Ethan?"
"Still missing."
My brother could be guilty.
My brother could also be in danger.
I hated that both possibilities could be true.
Morris looked at me.
"Ms. Bennett, tomorrow's proceedings are suspended."
"No."
Everyone turned.
"No?" he repeated.
"Dad created the will clause so whoever falsified my record would have to defend the fraud under oath."
"That's an interesting theory."
"It's more than theory."
Rebecca said, "We have Arthur Bennett's video."
Morris watched it.
When it finished, he sat quietly.
Then he said, "You believe someone wanted this case to happen."
"Yes."
"And now?"
"Now they know we're close."
Hale's laptop chimed.
New access event.
EBENNETT.
Ethan's credentials.
Live.
"Where?" Morris asked.
Hale traced the network.
His face changed.
"Bennett Aeronautics."
"Building?"
"Manufacturing annex."
I stood.
"What's there?"
Hale looked at me.
"Secure government production."
David moved toward the door.
Morris blocked him.
"No civilians are going anywhere."
"I'm former military."
"That makes you a civilian."
Morris called federal security.
Within minutes, agents were dispatched.
We waited.
Eleven minutes.
Fifteen.
Twenty.
Then Hale's screen changed.
All twenty-seven altered identity files began deleting.
One after another.
"Stop it," Rebecca said.
"I'm trying."
"Can you preserve them?"
"Not from here."
My record disappeared.
Then David's.
Then names I didn't recognize.
The final file appeared.
ARTHUR BENNETT.
I stared.
My father had an identity file in the same system.
"Why would Dad be there?"
Hale looked confused.
"He shouldn't."
Before the file vanished, he clicked it.
One line displayed.
STATUS: DECEASED.
IDENTITY OVERRIDE: PENDING.
"What does that mean?" I asked.
Hale whispered, "I don't know."
The screen refreshed.
File deleted.
Then my phone rang.
Ethan.
I answered immediately.
"Ethan?"
Static.
Breathing.
"Where are you?"
His voice came through faintly.
"Claire..."
"Tell me where you are."
"I'm sorry."
"About what?"
"I thought it was only the company."
My blood went cold.
"What did you do?"
"I gave them access."
"Who?"
"I didn't know what they were doing."
"Ethan, where are you?"
A metallic crash sounded.
He inhaled sharply.
"Manufacturing annex. Lower level."
"We're sending help."
"No."
"What?"
"They're already here."
"Who is?"
Silence.
"Ethan."
His voice dropped to a whisper.
"Dad wasn't investigating your records."
"What was he investigating?"
A door opened on his end.
Someone spoke.
Ethan stopped breathing.
Then whispered:
May you like
"He was investigating his own death."
The line went dead.
