Chapter 2 - My Father's Warning
The door opened only three inches before Deputy Cole slammed his shoulder against it.
"Back!"
A voice answered from outside.
"It's Richard."
My mother screamed my father's name.
Cole looked at Judge Mercer.
The judge nodded once.
"Bring him in."
Two officers entered with my father between them.
Richard Bennett had always seemed larger than the rooms he entered.
At sixty-four, he still had broad shoulders and the stiff posture of the homicide detective he had once been.
That day he looked suddenly old.
Blood ran from a cut above his eyebrow.
His gray shirt had been torn at one shoulder.
Lily started toward him.
I caught her.
"Dad?"
Richard looked at me.
"I'm sorry."
Those weren't the words I expected.
I wanted explanations.
I wanted to know why he had refused to help me.
Why he had secretly contacted Lily.
Why he had placed stolen medical documents in the hands of a five-year-old.
Instead, he said it again.
"I'm sorry, Carrie."
Only family called me Carrie.
Judge Mercer directed a deputy to bring a chair.
Richard refused it.
"I'm fine."
"You are not fine," my mother snapped.
He almost smiled.
For a second, they looked like the couple they had been before divorce turned twenty-seven years of marriage into Christmas schedules and careful phone calls.
Then Richard glanced at Daniel.
His face hardened.
"You."
Daniel stood.
"I don't know what you're accusing me of."
"I wasn't talking to you."
Richard looked past him.
At Victor Lang.
Victor's expression did not change.
That scared me more than anger would have.
Richard pointed toward the envelope.
"You opened it?"
"Yes," I said.
"Then you understand."
"No. I understand someone sold my medical records."
"Not just yours."
He looked at Judge Mercer.
"You need federal investigators."
The judge's eyes narrowed.
"Why?"
"Because this isn't a leak."
Richard lowered his voice.
"It's a business."
Nobody spoke.
Richard explained that six weeks earlier, an old friend from the police department had contacted him.
The friend, Detective Sam Ortega, had been investigating an unrelated identity-theft complaint involving a woman going through divorce proceedings.
The woman's sealed medical records had appeared in her husband's attorney's possession.
When Ortega traced the documents, he found a court case number embedded in an encrypted sales log recovered during a separate financial-crimes investigation.
Then a second case appeared.
Then a third.
Every one passed through Cook County family court.
"Why didn't you tell me?" I asked.
"Because Ortega told me not to."
"That's not an answer."
"He thought someone was monitoring employees."
I stared at him.
"You let me believe you didn't care."
His face broke slightly.
"I needed you to believe I wasn't involved."
That hurt more than I wanted it to.
My mother turned away.
Richard continued.
"I started asking questions quietly. Someone noticed."
He pointed to the injury above his eyebrow.
"This happened in the parking garage ten minutes ago."
Deputy Cole straightened.
"Did you see who attacked you?"
"No."
"Male? Female?"
"Male. Hood. Gloves."
"Weapon?"
"Metal baton."
The judge told Cole to notify courthouse security and Chicago police.
Richard stopped him.
"Don't use the internal line."
Every officer looked at him.
"Why?"
"Because someone on courthouse security is part of it."
Deputy Cole went still.
So did I.
I had known Aaron Cole for six years.
He had walked me to my car during late hearings.
He had brought Lily hot chocolate when she visited my office.
Now he looked personally insulted.
Richard noticed.
"I'm not saying it's you."
Cole replied, "But you're saying it's one of us."
"Yes."
The courtroom suddenly felt much smaller.
Judge Mercer ordered all communication routed through his personal cell phone.
Victor protested again.
"This hearing has become completely improper."
Richard laughed once.
"You're worried about procedure now?"
Victor stared at him.
Richard reached into his pocket.
Two deputies immediately moved.
He raised both hands.
"Relax."
He removed a small silver key.
No label.
No tag.
He placed it on the counsel table.
"This belongs to a storage locker."
"Where?" I asked.
"Union Station."
"What's inside?"
"Ortega's backup."
My father swallowed.
"He disappeared yesterday."
I felt cold.
"Disappeared?"
"No one has heard from him in eighteen hours."
Judge Mercer said, "Have you reported this?"
"His captain has."
"Then why bring the key here?"
"Because I was supposed to give it to Caroline if anything happened."
I looked at him.
"Why me?"
"Because Ortega believed the person behind this didn't just have access to records."
Richard pointed toward the judge's bench.
"They had access to case assignments, judicial calendars, sealed motions, witness lists, everything."
Judge Mercer stopped moving.
That was the first moment I saw actual fear in him.
He said, "How high does this go?"
Richard shook his head.
"We don't know."
Marcus examined the sales sheet again.
"What is J-17?"
Richard looked at him.
"That's what Ortega was trying to identify."
Daniel stood again.
"I want my daughter removed from this courtroom."
I turned.
"My daughter?"
"Our daughter."
"You filed a petition using stolen medical records."
"That's an accusation."
"Your initials are beside my name."
"I didn't make that sheet."
Victor placed a hand on Daniel's arm.
"Stop talking."
That told me plenty.
Judge Mercer saw it too.
"Mr. Cross, you will remain seated."
Daniel sat.
His face had changed from polished concern to anger.
Not fear.
Anger.
As if the day wasn't going according to plan.
I wondered how much he knew.
Maybe he had paid someone to obtain records without asking questions.
Maybe Victor handled everything.
Or maybe Daniel had been part of something larger.
I hated that I couldn't tell.
I hated more that I once knew every expression on his face.
We had married at twenty-five.
We had Lily two years later.
For a long time, Daniel had been funny and ambitious and attentive.
Then his real-estate business began failing.
Money became arguments.
Arguments became accusations.
By the time we divorced, he had learned to turn every weakness into leverage.
Cancer gave him the biggest weakness of all.
At least, he thought it did.
Judge Mercer announced the custody proceeding was suspended pending investigation.
Victor objected.
The judge ignored him.
"No child will be transferred based on evidence that may have been illegally obtained."
I almost collapsed with relief.
Not victory.
Just relief.
Lily stayed beside me.
Daniel looked furious.
Richard whispered, "It's not over."
"I know."
"No, Carrie. You don't."
He looked toward the judge's private hallway.
"They know the envelope made it here."
The implication landed.
Whoever had attacked him might have followed him.
"Where's the locker key supposed to go?" I asked.
"Locker 318."
"Do you have the code?"
"Ortega did."
"So how do we open it?"
Richard looked at Lily.
My stomach tightened.
"What?"
"When I gave her the phone, Ortega's code was saved as a contact."
I took the phone from Lily.
The screen required a four-digit passcode.
"What's the passcode?"
Richard hesitated.
"Lily chose it."
Everyone looked at her.
She blinked.
"It's Mommy's birthday."
I entered the numbers.
The phone opened.
There was only one contact.
SAM.
No number visible.
Instead, the notes field contained four digits.
Locker 318.
Code 3817.
Marcus said, "We need police."
Richard shook his head.
"We need someone outside the courthouse network."
Judge Mercer called a federal prosecutor he knew personally.
While we waited, Daniel whispered something to Victor.
Richard noticed.
"So did I."
Victor's phone vibrated.
He looked at it.
Then immediately placed it face down.
Judge Mercer said, "Hand me the phone."
Victor's expression tightened.
"Attorney-client privilege."
"You are not being asked for privileged communications. You are being ordered to preserve potential evidence."
Victor refused.
Deputy Cole stepped closer.
Victor finally surrendered it.
The screen lit before the judge could place it into an evidence bag.
A message appeared.
No contact name.
Only a number.
THE LOCKER HAS BEEN COMPROMISED.
Richard stood so fast the chair fell backward.
"How do they know?"
Another message arrived.
Victor stared at the screen.
So did I.
This one contained only five words.
SHE HAS THE WRONG KEY.
My father looked at the silver key on the table.
Then at me.
His face drained of color.
"Caroline."
"What?"
"Don't touch that key."
Everyone froze.
Richard pointed toward it with a trembling hand.
"That's not the key I gave Lily."
Someone had switched it.
Deputy Cole turned toward the locked courtroom.
Nobody had entered.
Nobody had left.
Which meant the person who changed it was already inside.
May you like
Then one of the spectators stood.
And slowly reached into her coat.
