Celeste placed her pen beside the file.
“Let's begin there.”
Celeste did not reopen eighteen cases by announcing that every previous decision was wrong.
She assigned a documented review, identified who would assess each matter, and distinguished clerical gaps from unresolved risks needing immediate action.
Some files were poorly labeled but substantively complete.
Others were not.
One reviewed file concerned an older man whose family reported an unexpected absence. A hospital contact and a direct conversation established where he was and what he wanted shared. The work was complete, but a transfer between systems left an unanswered task marker behind.
Celeste directed staff to correct the record without describing the original officers as negligent merely because their case appeared on the list.
Another involved an adult who had deliberately left a difficult household and confirmed safety through an appropriate channel while declining family contact. That person's choice required respect, not an attempt to produce a reunion for the dashboard.
Those examples mattered.
The review was not a contest to find as many failures as possible. It had to distinguish an unanswered question from an answer somebody disliked.
June watched Celeste make those distinctions and began supplying details more freely. Accuracy would not automatically be treated as resistance to the new commander's preferred story.
The difference mattered to the people whose names had become entries on a performance dashboard.
Harborside's closure figures had improved sharply during Drake's last year in command. City reports praised faster decisions and fewer outstanding incidents. Staff received messages celebrating efficiency.
The numbers did not explain how a case became finished.
Celeste had reviewed enough records before accepting the assignment to know that question deserved more than a reassuring summary.
She had worked serious-crime investigations, supervised a safeguarding team, and spent three years reviewing failures that occurred between departments rather than inside a single dramatic decision.
Most did not begin with a villain announcing an intention to ignore somebody.
They began with an unanswered call, an assumption repeated twice, and a label that made further effort look unnecessary.
Leah's file contained all three.
Her sister, Tess, reported that Leah left a shared apartment after repeated unwanted contact from former partner Adam Orton. Leah arranged to meet Tess near the ferry terminal with documents and a bag of clothing.
She did not arrive.
Tess called Leah, then local hospitals, then the police.
The first report documented concern.
The second entry described Leah as likely choosing not to engage.
The third closed the incident after Orton said she sometimes disappeared to make him worry.
No investigator had spoken with Leah.
Celeste asked for the original call recordings and the full contact history through the proper internal process. She also directed the team to establish current risk without waiting for the administrative review to finish.
June brought the printed summary to her new office.
“I asked for another contact attempt,” she said.
“I saw your note.”
“It wasn't carried into the closure.”
“Tell me the sequence.”
June explained which decisions she made, which she questioned, and where supervision intervened. Celeste wrote down names and dates rather than inviting a general complaint about the former commander.
“I don't need everyone to agree the old process was terrible,” she said. “I need to know what happened to this report.”
June nodded, visibly relieved by the distinction.
Outside the office, Wade told a colleague the new captain was reopening every old argument to establish authority.
The colleague, Sergeant Ben Harlow, did not answer immediately.
Harlow was fifty-two, had worked nights for years, and knew how often people called the station because every other door had already closed.
“Did anybody speak with the missing woman?” he asked.
“Her partner gave us context.”
“Former partner.”
Wade looked at him.
“You choosing a side already?”
Harlow put down the report he was carrying.
“I'm asking about the contact.”
That question was beginning to irritate Wade more than Celeste's appointment.
At eleven, Grace supplied the audio of Tess's first call and a note about an additional message received overnight.
Tess said somebody had asked about Leah at her workplace.
She recognized the man from Orton's company.
The overnight message had been routed to the closed incident without a new assessment.
Celeste listened to it once.
Then she called Tess herself, with June present and the contact documented.
“My name is Captain Bennett,” she said. “I want to hear what happened after your last conversation with your sister.”
At the other end, Tess began crying before she answered.