Hayes stared at him for several seconds before pushing him into the hallway.
The door slammed shut.
Elena remained standing in the middle of the room.
Her phone vibrated again.
This time, there was a text message.
No number.
No name.
Just one sentence:
"IF YOU WANT TO KNOW WHO KILLED WHITMORE, STOP TRUSTING YOUR CAPTAIN."
Elena read it twice.
Then she looked through the observation window.
The room behind the glass was empty.
But someone had left a photograph on the chair.
She walked over and picked it up.
It showed a younger version of Captain Hayes standing outside an old courthouse.
Beside him stood a woman Elena recognized immediately.
Sarah Whitmore.
The prosecutor's missing daughter.
On the back of the photograph, someone had written a date.
Twenty years earlier.
And beneath it were four words:
ROOM 07 WAS NEVER EMPTY.
Elena felt a chill run down her spine.
The investigation had barely begun.
And already, someone inside the police department was trying to bury the truth.
Elena Cross had investigated thirty-seven homicide cases during her career.
She had seen bodies dumped in abandoned warehouses, victims buried beneath concrete floors, and suspects who smiled while describing how they had murdered innocent people.
But nothing had ever made her feel as uncomfortable as the photograph she was holding.
Captain Richard Hayes stood beside Sarah Whitmore.
The photograph was old, its edges yellowed with age. Sarah looked barely twenty years old, wearing a white dress and smiling at the camera. Hayes stood beside her with one hand resting on her shoulder.
On the back, someone had written:
Twenty years ago. The night everything disappeared.
Elena placed the photograph inside her jacket.
She needed answers, but she knew better than to ask Hayes directly. If the captain was involved in whatever had happened to Sarah, confronting him would only give him time to destroy the evidence.
She glanced at the clock.
12:08 a.m.
The police station was unusually quiet. Most officers had gone home, leaving only a handful of night-shift personnel working at their desks.
Elena walked into the corridor and approached the security desk.
"Where did Captain Hayes take Officer Reeves?"
The young officer behind the counter looked up.
"Temporary holding, ma'am."
"Which room?"
"Basement level. Room three."
Elena frowned.
"Why is a homicide suspect being held in the basement?"
The officer shrugged.
"Orders from the captain."
She stared at him.
"Who authorized the transfer?"
"Captain Hayes."
Elena turned away.
Something was wrong.
The basement was supposed to be used for archived records, old equipment, and temporary storage. Suspects were normally kept in the main detention area.
She headed toward the elevator.
Just before pressing the button, her phone vibrated.
Another message.
"DO NOT GO TO THE BASEMENT ALONE."
Elena stopped.
She looked around the corridor.
Nobody was nearby.
A second message appeared.
"THE CAMERAS HAVE BEEN DISABLED."
Her hand moved toward the weapon beneath her jacket.
"Whoever you are," she whispered, "you'd better have a good reason."
The phone rang.
Same unknown number.
She answered.
"Tell me who you are."
A woman's voice responded.
"You shouldn't be asking that question."
"Then what should I be asking?"
"Why Captain Hayes is so desperate to keep Daniel Reeves alive."
Elena narrowed her eyes.
"Alive?"
There was a brief silence.
"Yes. You think Hayes wants him dead. That's what he wants you to believe."
"Who is Sarah Whitmore?"
The caller breathed deeply.
"Sarah was never supposed to become a witness."
Elena felt her stomach tighten.
"Witness to what?"
"Ask Daniel about the night of October seventeenth."
"Twenty years ago?"
"Exactly."
"Where is Sarah now?"
The caller hesitated.
Then she said something that made Elena grip the phone tighter.
"She's closer than you think."
The call ended.
Elena stared at the screen.
She had no idea who was calling, but the voice sounded strangely familiar.
She entered the elevator and pressed the basement button.
When the doors opened, the smell of damp concrete filled her nostrils.
The basement corridor was almost completely dark.
A single fluorescent light flickered near the storage rooms.
Elena drew her weapon.
"Police. Anybody here?"
No response.
She moved slowly past several locked doors until she reached Room Three.
The door was slightly open.
Inside, a metal chair sat in the middle of the room.
Daniel Reeves was gone.
Elena rushed inside.
His handcuffs lay on the floor, broken.
A dark stain marked the wall beside the chair.
Blood.
She touched it with two fingers.
Still wet.
"Daniel?"
A noise came from behind the storage shelves.
She turned sharply.
"Come out!"
A shadow moved.
Elena raised her weapon.
"Now!"
A young man stepped into the light.
It was Daniel.
His uniform was torn, and a cut ran across his forehead.
"Detective," he whispered.
"What happened?"
Daniel looked toward the door.
"He came back."
"Who?"
"The man who killed Whitmore."
Elena lowered her weapon slightly.
"Where is he?"
Daniel shook his head.
"You don't understand. He wasn't trying to kill me."
"Then what was he doing?"
Daniel looked directly into her eyes.
"He was trying to give me something."
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small black flash drive.