Chapter 5 - The Evidence That Disappeared
Daniel wanted to go home immediately.
Ortiz refused to let him.
Police entered first.
The house was empty.
Nothing appeared stolen.
But Rebecca's bedroom had been disturbed.
A photograph had been removed from the wall and placed on the bed.
Daniel picked it up.
It showed Rebecca at a hospital fundraiser.
Charles Mercer stood behind her.
Beside Mercer was Paul Danner.
And beside Danner stood Elaine Porter, the prosecutor who had handled Thomas's case.
Daniel stared.
“They all knew each other.”
Ortiz photographed everything.
Grace remained near the doorway.
Daniel noticed her trembling.
“You should leave town.”
“No.”
“Grace.”
“I spent seven years running from what happened.”
“This isn't about courage.”
“No. It's about finishing it.”
Daniel understood he would not change her mind.
The investigation expanded quietly.
Federal agents became involved.
The flash drive revealed payments to shell companies, but not enough to establish who controlled them.
Daniel voluntarily recused himself from every active matter connected to Mercer.
Rumors spread.
A judge meeting secretly with federal investigators did not stay secret long.
Then the newspaper published photographs of Daniel and Grace together.
JUDGE'S SECRET ROMANCE WITH COURTHOUSE CUSTODIAN.
Grace saw the headline before Daniel did.
By noon reporters surrounded the courthouse.
Questions changed quickly.
Had Grace manipulated him?
Was Daniel reopening an old case because of their relationship?
Had he abused his office?
Daniel made one public statement.
“Ms. Miller is not responsible for my judicial decisions. Any review of the Caldwell matter will be handled by independent authorities.”
Then he walked away.
Grace waited inside.
“You didn't have to defend me.”
“Yes, I did.”
“You could lose everything.”
“Stop saying that.”
“Why?”
“Because my job is not everything.”
She stared at him.
“A year ago, I thought it was,” Daniel said. “I was wrong.”
That evening the judicial conduct commission announced a preliminary inquiry.
Daniel surrendered his active docket voluntarily.
For the first time in thirteen years, he had no courtroom.
He sat alone in his chambers.
Grace entered with two coffees.
He smiled faintly.
“You remembered.”
“No sugar.”
She handed him one.
“Daniel?”
“Yes?”
“Thomas would have liked you.”
Daniel looked down.
“Don't say that because you feel sorry for me.”
“I don't.”
Grace sat beside him.
“He hated arrogant people.”
Daniel almost laughed.
“That doesn't sound promising.”
“But he respected people who admitted when they were wrong.”
Daniel looked at her.
“I'm not sure I've admitted enough yet.”
Grace reached for his hand.
Before she touched it, Ortiz entered.
“We found something.”
The missing evidence boxes from Thomas's case had been located.
They were inside a private records warehouse owned by Mercer Development.
“How did they get there?” Daniel asked.
“That's what we're determining.”
Box four contained forensic accounting reports.
One report explicitly stated that the electronic transfers attributed to Thomas could have been initiated remotely.
The report had never been disclosed to Daniel.
Grace whispered, “He was innocent.”
Ortiz nodded.
“There's more.”
A handwritten memo documented a meeting between Prosecutor Porter and Charles Mercer three days before Thomas's plea.
Daniel read it.
“Who wrote this?”
“Assistant prosecutor named Benjamin Shaw.”
“Where is he?”
Ortiz hesitated.
“He disappeared seven years ago.”
Grace stared.
“Everyone disappears.”
“Not this time,” Ortiz said.
Shaw had recently renewed a driver's license in Kentucky.
Federal agents located him the next morning.
He agreed to talk only after being promised protection.
Daniel was not permitted in the interview.
Grace was.
Shaw looked at her for a long time.
“I owe you an apology.”
“I don't need apologies.”
“No. You need the truth.”
He told her Porter had received instructions to bury the forensic report.
“From Mercer?”
Shaw shook his head.
“Mercer didn't have that authority.”
“Then who?”
Shaw became nervous.
“The order came from inside the courthouse.”
Grace felt cold.
“A judge?”
Shaw looked toward the camera.
“Yes.”
“Daniel?”
“No.”
Grace exhaled.
“Who?”
Before Shaw could answer, the building alarm screamed.
Lights flashed.
Agents rushed into the corridor.
Someone had triggered a fire alarm on another floor.
When they returned thirty seconds later, Shaw was gone.
His chair sat empty.
The emergency exit behind him stood open.
On the table, however, he had scratched something into a legal pad.
Grace leaned closer.
Two initials.
R.W.
Daniel knew immediately who they belonged to.
May you like
Raymond Whitaker.
His father.
