Outside her apartment in Washington, D.C., the streets were almost deserted. A cold wind rattled the windows as Olivia sat at her kitchen table, reviewing photographs from an unrelated investigation.
Her phone vibrated.
UNKNOWN CALLER.
She considered ignoring it.
Then she answered.
"Bennett."
For several seconds, there was only breathing.
Finally, a woman's voice whispered.
"You don't know me, Agent Bennett. But I know what happened to you in Brookhaven."
Olivia straightened.
"Who is this?"
"My name is Rachel Whitmore. I work in the Brookhaven Police Department's records division."
Olivia reached for a pen.
"All right, Rachel. What do you need?"
"I found something. Something connected to Lieutenant Mercer."
"Then you should contact the federal investigators handling his case."
"I tried."
The woman's voice trembled.
"Two days later, my supervisor disappeared."
Olivia stopped writing.
"Disappeared?"
"His name is Thomas Keene. He was supposed to testify before a federal grand jury next week. Nobody has heard from him since Tuesday."
Olivia felt the familiar tightening in her chest.
"Have you reported this?"
"Yes. The department says he's on personal leave. But I saw his car outside the records building yesterday."
"That doesn't necessarily meanโ"
"There was blood on the driver's seat."
Silence.
Olivia stood.
"Rachel, where are you right now?"
"At home."
"Are you alone?"
"Yes."
"Lock your doors. Don't contact anyone else about the records until I can arrange for someone to speak with you."
Rachel began crying quietly.
"Agent Bennett, there's something else."
"What?"
"Mercer wasn't the person running the operation."
Olivia looked toward the dark window.
"Who was?"
Rachel hesitated.
"I don't know his real name. But I found a reference in the archived files."
"Tell me."
"They called him the Architect."
The line disconnected.
Olivia immediately tried calling back.
The number was no longer in service.
For a long moment, she stood motionless in her kitchen.
Then she dialed Special Agent Daniel Price.
He answered on the fourth ring.
"Olivia? It's two in the morning."
"We have a problem."
"What kind?"
"Mercer may have been taking orders from someone else."
Price said nothing.
Olivia continued.
"And I think a witness has disappeared."
By sunrise, Olivia and Daniel Price were aboard a government aircraft bound for Brookhaven.
Daniel sat across from her, studying the notes she had written during Rachel's call.
"Rachel Whitmore," he said. "Twenty-nine years old. Civilian records analyst. No disciplinary history."
"Has anyone located her?"
"Local agents went to her apartment an hour ago."
Olivia looked up.
"And?"
"Nobody answered."
"Did they enter?"
"Not yet. They're working on lawful access."
Olivia turned toward the window.
Daniel hesitated.
"There's more."
She looked back.
"Brookhaven police recovered a body from the Northbridge River at approximately five this morning."
"Identification?"
"Not confirmed."
"Male or female?"
"Male. Middle-aged."
Olivia closed her eyes briefly.
"Thomas Keene."
"We don't know that."
But Daniel's expression told her he feared the same thing.
At 8:42 a.m., they arrived at the Brookhaven medical examiner's office.
Captain Richard Dawson was waiting outside.
He looked older than Olivia remembered.
"Agent Bennett."
"Captain."
Dawson shook her hand.
"I was hoping we'd meet again under different circumstances."
"So was I."
He led them through a secured hallway.
Inside the examination room, a body lay beneath a white sheet.
The medical examiner pulled the sheet back.
Olivia studied the man's face.
Daniel checked the photograph on his phone.
It was Thomas Keene.
The medical examiner explained that the preliminary examination suggested the death was suspicious, but a final determination would require further testing.
Olivia stepped away from the table.
"Where was he found?"
"Near the old Northbridge pumping station," Dawson answered.
"Any personal belongings?"
"A wallet. A damaged wristwatch. And a small metal key."
"What kind of key?"
Dawson handed her a photograph.
The key was silver, with a blue plastic tag.
On the tag was a number.
317.
Olivia stared at it.
"Have you traced it?"
"Not yet."
Daniel leaned closer.
"Could be a locker."
"Or a storage unit," Olivia said.
Dawson folded his arms.
"We've requested records from several facilities."
Olivia handed back the photograph.
"Thomas Keene was supposed to testify next week. Whoever killed him may have been trying to prevent that."
Dawson's face hardened.
"Then we find out what he knew."
At 11:16 a.m., Olivia arrived at Rachel Whitmore's apartment building.
Two federal agents were stationed outside.
One approached.
"Agent Bennett, we obtained lawful access through the appropriate process. The apartment is empty."
"Signs of a struggle?"
"None."
"Personal belongings?"
"Most of them are still here."
Olivia entered.
The apartment was small but carefully organized.
A coffee mug stood beside an open laptop.
A pair of shoes rested near the front door.
On the kitchen counter was a grocery receipt dated the previous evening.
Rachel had not packed for a trip.
Olivia walked into the bedroom.
A framed photograph showed Rachel standing beside an older woman.
On the back, someone had written:
Mom and me. Northbridge, 2022.
Olivia returned to the living room.
Daniel was examining the laptop with a digital forensics specialist.
"Anything?" she asked.
"The machine is locked. We'll preserve it and examine it under the warrant."
Olivia looked around.
Something bothered her.