The storage facility stood behind an abandoned shopping center on the western edge of Westbridge.
It was a large industrial building surrounded by a chain-link fence. Several security lights illuminated the parking lot, but half of them were broken.
Samuel arrived at 12:17 a.m.
Agent Olivia Grant was already waiting near the entrance.
She wore a black jacket over a dark shirt and carried a small equipment case.
"You're late," she said.
"Traffic."
"At midnight?"
Samuel smiled faintly.
"Old people drive carefully."
Olivia shook her head.
"Still making jokes."
They entered the building together.
The facility manager had received instructions from Leonard Hayes to allow them access to locker 214.
The manager handed Samuel a key.
"Your friend said this was important."
"It is."
Samuel opened the locker.
Inside were several cardboard boxes, an old laptop, and a small black recording device.
Olivia carefully examined the contents.
"Looks like someone prepared this."
Samuel picked up the recording device.
"Leonard doesn't trust cloud storage."
"Probably wise."
They connected the device to a secure laptop.
The first recording contained a conversation between Bell and Crowe.
Bell's voice was unmistakable.
"...we take the money, enter what we need, and move on. Nobody checks the difference unless somebody complains."
Crowe responded.
"And if they complain?"
"They get a report. We make it look like they were involved in something."
Another voice entered the conversation.
Older.
Calm.
Authoritative.
Samuel recognized it immediately.
Raymond Harlan.
"You two need to stop discussing details in unsecured locations."
Bell laughed.
"Relax. Nobody's listening."
Harlan's voice became sharper.
"That's what people said before Hayes started asking questions."
The recording continued.
Crowe asked about the complaints.
Harlan explained that the department's administrative system allowed certain reports to be classified as preliminary, meaning they could be removed before entering the permanent record.
The process required authorization from a senior administrator.
Harlan had been using his credentials to manipulate the complaint system.
But there was more.
A second recording revealed that the stolen money was being transferred through a private security company registered under Crowe's name.
The company had received multiple contracts from Westbridge.
Some of those contracts had been paid using money allocated for neighborhood safety programs.
Olivia stopped the recording.
"This is bigger than internal corruption."
Samuel nodded.
"Financial crimes. Evidence tampering. Possible conspiracy."
She examined the files.
"Do you have copies?"
"Not yet."
"We'll make them."
A noise came from outside.
Both investigators turned.
Footsteps.
Olivia immediately closed the laptop.
Samuel switched off the small light above the locker.
They stood in darkness.
The footsteps moved closer.
Then a voice called out.
"Detective Whitaker?"
Samuel recognized it.
Marcus Bell.
Olivia slowly reached for her phone.
Samuel shook his head.
The footsteps stopped outside locker 214.
A shadow appeared beneath the door.
"Come on, Detective. I know you're in there."
Samuel remained silent.
Bell laughed.
"Funny thing about old buildings. They have terrible security."
A metallic sound followed.
Someone was trying to open the locker.
Olivia whispered, "We need to move."
Samuel nodded.
He reached for the recording device and slipped it inside his coat.
The lock suddenly rattled.
Then the door opened several inches.
Bell's face appeared in the narrow gap.
For a moment, he looked directly at Samuel.
His expression shifted from confidence to surprise.
"Well, look at that."
Samuel stood still.
"Officer Bell."
Bell pushed the door wider.
"What are you doing here?"
"Looking for something."
"Something belonging to the department?"
"Something belonging to the truth."
Bell stepped inside.
Olivia moved behind Samuel.
Bell noticed her.
"Who's she?"
"Someone you don't need to worry about."
Bell laughed.
"That's what everyone says right before things get complicated."
He reached toward Samuel's coat.
Olivia immediately stepped forward.
"Don't touch him."
Bell turned.
"Who are you?"
She displayed her federal credentials.
"Special Agent Olivia Grant. Federal Bureau of Investigation."
Bell froze.
For several seconds, nobody moved.
Then he slowly lowered his hand.
"Well," he said. "This is unexpected."
Olivia stared at him.
"Step away from the detective."
Bell complied.
But as he moved backward, Samuel noticed something in his right hand.
A small black object.
A recording device.
Bell had been filming them.
Samuel's expression hardened.
"Who sent you here?"
Bell smiled.
"Nobody."
"Then how did you know where to find us?"
Bell looked toward the exit.
"Maybe you should ask your friends at the station."
Olivia moved to block the doorway.
"You're not leaving until we understand why you came here."
Bell's smile returned.
"Agent, I think you misunderstand the situation."
He raised his phone.
On its screen was a photograph of Daniel Price sitting inside the Westbridge Police Department.
Below the photograph was a message.
TELL WHITAKER TO STOP.
Samuel's face became completely still.
Bell lowered the phone.
"Now, Detective. Are we going to have a problem?"
Samuel looked directly at him.
"Yes, Marcus."
He paused.
"Now we are."