But it wasn't.
The preservation order had exposed a problem that could affect years of criminal cases.
If the records were unreliable, prosecutors would need to review them. Defense attorneys could challenge evidence. Officers could be called to testify about transactions they barely remembered.
And if narcotics had been diverted, the department might have a criminal investigation inside its own evidence unit.
Mercer returned to his desk.
He opened the old correspondence concerning Hayes.
There were several emails.
One from Hayes requesting access to the archive.
One from Pike explaining that the archive contained restricted administrative material.
One from Mercer asking Pike whether the request could be narrowed.
And one from Pike replying:
The review can be closed without further archive access. The remaining items have been reconciled.
Mercer read the sentence again.
He had accepted it.
He had not asked for proof.
He had not checked the records.
He had signed off on the administrative closure.
Now he wondered whether that decision had allowed something serious to remain hidden.
At 4:50 p.m., Claire received a call from Olivia.
“There's been movement at the department.”
“What kind?”
“Someone attempted to access the old evidence database from a workstation assigned to the evidence unit.”
“When?”
“About twenty minutes ago.”
“Was the access successful?”
“The system blocked the login because the account was suspended under the preservation protocol.”
“Do we know who tried?”
“Not yet. The authentication log identifies the account, not the person at the keyboard.”
“Preserve the log.”
“Already done.”
Claire stood.
“Did anyone access the physical evidence room?”
“We're checking the badge records.”
“Any movement at B-4?”
“Not yet.”
Claire looked at the wall clock.
“Who was the account assigned to?”
“Raymond Pike.”
Claire was silent.
“Could it have been someone else using his credentials?” Olivia asked.
“Yes. We cannot attribute the attempt to Pike without more evidence.”
“Agreed.”
“Get the workstation access logs and the camera footage. We also need to know whether the login originated from inside the building or through a remote connection.”
Olivia paused.
“Claire, I think someone knows we're getting close.”
“Maybe. But the preservation order is doing exactly what it was designed to do. It's preventing changes from disappearing without a trace.”
Claire ended the call.
She returned to the conference room and opened the case timeline.
The new entry was added:
Unauthorized access attempt — evidence database — account assigned to R. Pike — identity of user not established.
She stared at the words.
The investigation was no longer just about what had happened months earlier.
It was also about what people might be trying to do now.
That evening, Claire received a message from Patricia.
It was brief.
Someone came to my office and asked whether I had spoken to the federal team. I said I was doing my regular work. I don't know if they believed me.
Claire immediately called her.
“Are you safe?”
“Yes.”
“Who came?”
“An officer from the evidence unit. I don't want to put his name in a text.”
“That's fine. Don't confront him. Don't discuss the investigation with anyone outside the approved channel.”
“He asked whether I still had my notebook.”
“What did you say?”
“I told him it was mine.”
“Did he ask to see it?”
“No.”
“Good. Keep it secure. Don't bring it to the office tomorrow unless we've arranged the collection.”
Patricia was quiet.
“Agent Bennett?”
“Yes?”
“Do you think they know about the six packages?”
Claire looked at the notes on her desk.
“I think the records suggest there was a six-package inventory. We still need to verify what happened to each package.”
“I remember the day I wrote that note.”
“What do you remember?”
“Pike came into the office and asked me to print the temporary storage sheet. He said it was only for reconciliation.”
“Did you see the packages?”
“No. I only saw the paperwork.”
“Did he tell you where they were?”
“He said they were in temporary storage.”
“Did he identify the location?”
“No.”
“Did you ask?”
“I did. He said it wasn't my responsibility.”
Claire made a note.
“Patricia, that's useful information. But don't try to remember more than you actually do. If you aren't sure, say so.”
“I understand.”
“And if anyone pressures you again, contact us.”
After the call, Claire sat quietly.
The evidence was accumulating.
A hidden worksheet.
A private storage destination.
An old inspector denied access.
An attempted database login.
A witness who was beginning to feel unsafe.
The next step would require legal process and careful coordination.
They would need to establish whether Meridian had received the property, who controlled the facility, and whether the transfer was genuine.
They would also need to inspect the lockbox in basement room B-4.
But they could not simply walk into a private warehouse or force open a secured box because a spreadsheet contained suspicious entries.
Every action had to be legally supported.
Every item had to be documented.
And every person involved had to be treated according to the evidence, not suspicion.
Claire closed her notebook.
Tomorrow, she would speak with the prosecutor again.
Then she would request the records necessary to trace Meridian's involvement.
For now, the most important discovery was not the missing narcotics.
It was the fact that someone had created a system in which the official records could be changed, the original information could disappear from ordinary view, and an inspection could be closed without anyone verifying the underlying evidence.
And Claire now had the original records.
The next question was whether those records could lead her to the truth before someone tried to erase the trail again.