For the first time all morning, he seemed unsure what to do with it.
Price did not raise her voice.
She did not need to.
“Everyone scheduled for command briefing, room three. Captain Bennett is taking command of Harborside effective this morning.”
The announcement moved through the station without a sound. Chairs shifted. Someone closed a drawer too carefully.
Celeste lifted the folder and returned it to her bag.
Wade spoke before Price could continue.
“There was some confusion at the desk.”
Celeste looked at him.
“I asked you to check the briefing list.”
“We weren't told you'd be arriving like—”
He stopped.
Price waited.
“Like what?” Celeste asked.
His gaze moved over the plain uniform, the raincoat, the ordinary bag.
“Without an introduction.”
“I gave you my name.”
Grace lowered the clipboard to the desk. The appointment list had been there throughout the exchange.
Celeste could have opened her credentials earlier and ended the obstruction by making Wade afraid of the consequences.
She knew that.
It would not have answered why the list was unavailable to a woman he considered unimportant.
“We'll discuss the reception separately,” she said. “For now, the briefing has already been delayed.”
She walked toward room three without asking anyone to carry her bag.
Price followed, and the scheduled supervisors gathered behind them. Wade joined the group because he served as senior duty officer for the morning rotation.
Inside, Celeste placed the folder on the table.
Her appointment was not a secret test arranged to humiliate staff. The command transition had been circulated to supervisors through the normal process, with a formal introduction planned at the briefing. A changed overnight schedule meant Price had not reached the entrance when Celeste arrived.
The station had enough information to receive her professionally.
Even without it, the interaction should have been ordinary.
Celeste had driven herself because the appointment required a working arrival, not a parade. Her raincoat covered part of the uniform while she carried documents from the car. She had not altered her appearance to trick anyone.
She knew how quickly the station might retell the story as an undercover test once the embarrassment became uncomfortable.
At the table, she made the circumstances clear.
“I expected the receiving information to be available. It was.”
Price confirmed the circulation of the transition notice and asked the supervisors to check their own communications before blaming an unnamed administrative failure.
Wade stared at the agenda.
The practical explanation left him less room to convert his behavior into an entertaining mistake about a hidden identity. He had not failed because he lacked a photograph of the new captain.
He had refused a request that did not require one.
Celeste allowed the point to stand without extending the humiliation. A commander could establish a boundary and still avoid turning the first meeting into punishment delivered for an audience.
The work waiting in the folder deserved the room's attention now.
Celeste made that point in one sentence before moving on.
“A newcomer should not need a command appointment to get an accurate answer.”
She opened the folder.
The first documents confirmed the transfer of command from Captain Victor Drake, who had been reassigned pending the review of several management issues. The changes were not public findings of criminal conduct. They were enough to require independent attention and a commander willing to ask unwelcome questions.
Wade had hoped to become acting commander during the transition.
Now he watched Celeste arrange the agenda he expected someone else to hand him.
“We'll cover staffing, active incidents, and the outstanding risk-review list,” she said.
A lieutenant near the window frowned.
“Which list?”
Celeste turned one page.
“The eighteen cases marked closed while a safeguarding or follow-up request remained unresolved.”
Wade sat back.
“Administrative backlog.”
“Some may be. We'll examine them individually.”
Price watched without interrupting.
Celeste asked June to summarize the current missing-person reports with unresolved contact attempts. June hesitated, then identified a file that had been closed the previous week.
Leah Sinclair. Thirty-one. Reported missing by her older sister after failing to arrive at a planned meeting.
The closure description said voluntary adult absence.
“Was direct contact made?” Celeste asked.
“Not with Leah,” June answered.
“With whom?”
Wade moved a pen between his fingers.
“Her former partner said she does this.”
Celeste looked down at the summary.
“He was also the person she had recently complained about.”
The room grew quiet again.
The silence felt different from the one at the desk.