He also had friends in positions of authority.
According to preliminary reports, certain officers had been accepting payments in exchange for providing confidential information, interfering with investigations, and helping selected individuals avoid prosecution.
At first, the allegations had seemed relatively minor.
A missing report here.
An improperly handled evidence package there.
A traffic stop that mysteriously disappeared from the department's records.
But as Emily examined the documents, she discovered something much larger.
There was a pattern.
Vehicles seized during arrests were being redirected to Voss's towing company. Valuable items were disappearing from evidence inventories. Witnesses who had agreed to cooperate suddenly changed their statements or withdrew their complaints.
And every time investigators attempted to identify the officers involved, someone seemed to know what they were doing.
The investigation had already suffered two serious setbacks.
One confidential source had disappeared.
Another had been threatened.
Emily had therefore been instructed to work carefully, limiting the number of people who knew her identity and avoiding unnecessary contact with the local department.
Her supervisor, Deputy Inspector General Marcus Reed, had given her one clear instruction before she left the federal office.
"Don't announce who you are unless you absolutely have to. We don't know how far this thing goes."
Emily had nodded.
"I understand."
"And Emily?"
"Yes?"
"If something feels wrong, leave. We can investigate misconduct. We cannot afford to lose you because someone wants to protect a towing contract."
She had smiled faintly.
"I'll be careful."
Now, sitting in her sedan, she watched the storage facility.
At 2:13 p.m., a black SUV entered the parking lot.
The driver was a man named Thomas Bell, a former evidence technician who had worked for the Westbridge Police Department for almost nine years before resigning unexpectedly.
Bell had contacted Emily three weeks earlier.
His first message had been short.
I have something you need to see. It concerns evidence from three closed cases. I don't trust anyone at the department.
They had arranged to meet twice.
Both times, Bell had canceled at the last minute.
Today, however, he had finally agreed to provide the original documents.
Emily checked her watch.
2:14 p.m.
The black SUV stopped near the side entrance.
A man stepped out.
He looked around before opening the rear door and retrieving a small cardboard box.
Emily recognized him immediately.
Thomas Bell.
He was forty-three, slightly overweight, with thinning brown hair and a nervous expression. He wore a gray jacket despite the warm weather.
He walked toward the building.
Emily waited several seconds before getting out of her car.
She was deliberately dressed casually. Her badge and identification were secured in a leather holder inside her back pocket. She had no reason to display them unless necessary.
The meeting was supposed to be brief.
Bell had agreed to hand over the original records, answer a few questions, and leave.
But when Emily reached the side entrance, she noticed something unusual.
A dark blue pickup truck was parked behind the building.
Its windows were tinted.
The engine was running.
She stopped.
There was no reason for a vehicle to be waiting there.
She looked toward the entrance.
Bell was standing inside, visible through a narrow window. He appeared to be arguing with someone.
Emily couldn't hear the conversation.
Then the man inside grabbed Bell's jacket.
Bell stumbled backward.
Emily immediately reached for her phone.
Before she could make a call, the man released Bell and pointed toward the parking lot.
Bell looked through the window.
Their eyes met.
He shook his head.
Once.
Twice.
Then he mouthed a single word.
Leave.
Emily's instincts told her something was wrong.
She stepped away from the entrance and returned toward her sedan.
She didn't run.
Running would attract attention.
She had almost reached the vehicle when she heard tires screeching behind her.
A police cruiser pulled into the parking lot.
Its lights were not activated.
Two uniformed officers stepped out.
One was Daniel Brooks.
The other was Ryan Miller.
Emily immediately recognized Brooks from the departmental personnel photographs she had reviewed during her investigation.
He was one of the officers whose name appeared repeatedly in the financial records.
His overtime payments had increased dramatically over the previous year, despite no corresponding change in his official duties.
Several vehicle impound reports he had signed contained discrepancies.
And one confidential witness had specifically mentioned his name.
Emily had not expected to encounter him in person.
Brooks approached her.
"Ma'am."
She turned.
"Can I help you?"
"Where are you going?"
"To my car."
"Your car?"
He gestured toward the silver sedan.
"That one?"
"Yes."
"What are you doing here?"
"Meeting someone."
"Who?"
"Someone I know."
Brooks looked toward the building.
"What's your business with Thomas Bell?"
Emily's expression didn't change.
"You know him?"
"Answer the question."
"I was meeting him."
"Why?"
"That's a private matter."
Brooks exchanged a glance with Miller.
It was brief, but Emily noticed it.
"What did he give you?" Brooks asked.
"Nothing."
"Don't lie to me."
"I'm not."
Brooks stepped closer.
"We received a report about suspicious activity at this property. A man was seen transferring stolen materials. You happen to be standing right here, and you're telling me you know nothing?"
Emily looked directly at him.
"Did you receive that report before or after you arrived?"
His eyebrows tightened.
"What?"
"Just asking."
"Turn around."
"Officer, I haven't committed a crime."
"I didn't ask you to explain the law. I told you to turn around."
Emily remained still.
"Am I being detained?"
Brooks looked irritated.
"You're being investigated."
"That's not an answer."
Miller shifted uncomfortably.
"Daniel, maybe we should establish what actually happened."
Brooks ignored him.