It was bait for him.
And he had taken it.
But what happened next would prove something even more dangerous.
Daniel Crowe wasn't the only person inside the department who knew about the sealed case.
The federal agents had been waiting for him.
They had been waiting for him to reveal that someone inside the Mercer Ridge Police Department had leaked information that only a handful of people should have known.
And they had chosen Arthur Bell because nobody in the department considered a seventy-three-year-old retired soldier with an old pickup truck to be part of an investigation.
That assumption would become the first mistake in a case that would eventually reach the office of the state's attorney general.
But that night, it started with a toolbox.
And one number.
Crowe raised both hands.
"Agent, I can explain."
The woman approaching him didn't slow down.
"You're going to explain everything."
"I don't know what you're talking about."
She stopped six feet away.
Her badge was visible beneath the beam of a flashlight.
Special Agent Elena Ruiz.
Arthur recognized the name.
Not personally.
He had seen it on the instructions.
He had wondered whether she was real.
Now he knew.
Ruiz glanced toward the toolbox.
Then toward Arthur.
"Mr. Bell, are you hurt?"
"No."
"Did Officer Crowe touch you?"
Arthur hesitated.
"He grabbed my wrist."
Crowe immediately spoke.
"I was conducting a lawful traffic stop."
Ruiz looked at him.
"Nobody asked why you stopped him."
Crowe stopped talking.
Two federal agents moved behind him.
Another approached the driver's side of his patrol vehicle.
Ruiz looked at Arthur.
"Mr. Bell, please step away from the truck."
Arthur did.
"Leave the toolbox open."
Arthur obeyed.
Ruiz approached.
She didn't touch the envelope.
Instead, she crouched beside it and examined the printed number.
Her expression remained neutral.
"Did you open this?"
"No."
"Did you know what was inside?"
"No."
"Did you know the case number?"
Arthur shook his head.
"No."
Ruiz stood.
"Then why did you open the toolbox?"
Arthur looked at Crowe.
"Because he said the phrase."
Ruiz's eyes moved toward Crowe.
"What phrase?"
Arthur repeated it.
"Don't make this into one of those federal fishing trips."
The silence that followed was immediate.
Ruiz turned toward Crowe.
"Who told you to say that?"
Crowe frowned.
"I didn't say anything special."
"You used a phrase identified in a sealed preservation protocol."
Crowe's face changed.
Ruiz noticed.
"How did you know it?"
Crowe said nothing.
Ruiz nodded to the agent behind him.
"Take his weapon."
Crowe's hand moved instinctively toward his holster.
Three agents raised their weapons.
"Don't."
Crowe stopped.
The agent removed his service weapon.
Then his spare magazine.
Then his badge.
Crowe stared at the badge as if seeing it for the first time.
Ruiz spoke quietly.
"Officer Crowe, you are not under arrest."
Crowe looked at her.
"Then why are you taking my badge?"
"Because right now, we don't know whether you're a witness, a participant, or the person we're looking for."
"I haven't done anything."
Ruiz nodded.
"Then you should have no problem helping us establish that."
She turned to Arthur.
"Mr. Bell, when did you receive the envelope?"
Arthur looked at the agents.
"Six weeks ago."
"From whom?"
Arthur hesitated.
Ruiz didn't pressure him.
She simply waited.
Finally Arthur said:
"Someone who told me not to ask questions."
"Who?"
"A former federal investigator."
Ruiz's expression tightened.
"Name."
"Thomas Avery."
Nobody spoke.
Ruiz looked at one of the agents.
The agent immediately pulled out a phone.
Arthur watched.
He knew something had changed.
"Do you know him?" Arthur asked.
Ruiz didn't answer immediately.
Then she said:
"Thomas Avery died three months ago."
Arthur stared at her.
"No."
"Yes."
Arthur looked toward the toolbox.
"Then someone gave me the envelope using his name."
Ruiz nodded.
"That's what we were afraid of."
Crowe looked between them.
"What is this?"
Ruiz turned toward him.
"Avery was the original lead investigator in a sealed federal inquiry into corruption involving the Mercer Ridge Police Department."
Crowe laughed nervously.
"You're kidding."
Ruiz didn't smile.
"No."
Crowe looked at Arthur.
"You expect me to believe that?"
Arthur finally spoke.
"You don't have to believe me."
He closed the toolbox.
"You only have to explain why you knew the case number."
At 1:18 in the morning, the Mercer Ridge Police Department was still operating normally.
Dispatchers answered calls.
Patrol officers drove through neighborhoods.
A sergeant signed off on an arrest report.
A detective typed an interview summary.
Nobody knew that one of their officers had been stopped by federal agents less than twenty miles away.
Nobody knew that the federal government had been monitoring the department for six weeks.
And nobody knew that the small brown envelope sitting inside Arthur Bell's toolbox had been deliberately placed there as a test.
Except several people.
And one of those people was sitting behind a desk inside the police department.
Detective Marcus Hale looked at the clock.
1:18.
He closed the case file on his computer.