man in a gray overcoat stood near the elevator while someone worked beneath Darlene’s vehicle.
At the time, Blake assumed an emergency repair was underway.
He remembered the sharp smell of brake fluid and a silver tool case on the floor.
More importantly, he remembered the man in the overcoat using a white access card.
Executive badges were black.
Contractor badges were white.
“Can someone create a duplicate contractor badge?” Blake asked.
Darlene turned to the security officer, Marcus Reed.
Marcus admitted that temporary badges could be issued by three department heads.
The system stored each activation, but routine footage from the garage was automatically deleted after ninety days.
The accident had occurred four months earlier.
Victor smiled when he heard that.
Darlene noticed.
“You seem relieved.”
“I am tired of watching you turn an unfortunate crash into a conspiracy.”
Marcus left the office to examine the access archive.
Although the video was gone, badge records remained on a separate server used for billing contractors.
Two hours later, he found a white badge activated under the name of a plumbing company that had not worked in the tower for three years.
The authorization came from Victor’s executive account.
Victor claimed his credentials had been misused.
The board attorneys exchanged another look.
Darlene did not celebrate.
She knew an access record was not enough.
Victor had spent his life surviving scandals by placing distance between himself and the people who carried out his orders.
They needed Miguel Santos.
Marcus had already searched the addresses in Miguel’s employee file.
His apartment was empty, his phone disconnected, and his bank account untouched since the week of the crash.
Blake asked to see Miguel’s personnel photograph.
The moment it appeared, he recognized the mechanic who had been beneath Darlene’s car.
Miguel was not the man in the overcoat, but he had been holding the silver tool case.
“He looked frightened,” Blake said.
“He kept checking the elevator.”
“Can you identify the other man?” Rebecca asked.
Blake could not honestly say yes.
He had seen only a profile beneath the garage lights.
Victor spread his hands.
“There you have it.
A frightened mechanic, an unidentified man, and a janitor remembering smells from four months ago.”
Darlene’s jaw tightened, but Blake saw pain move through her shoulders.
She had been sitting too long.
The brace beneath her suit was pressing against injuries that had not fully healed.
“This meeting is over,” she said.
Victor stepped toward the door, then paused beside Blake.
“Take the money,” he murmured.
“Men in your position rarely receive a second chance to make the profitable choice.”
Blake met his eyes.
“My daughter needs medicine.
She doesn’t need a father who sells lies.”
Victor’s face changed only slightly, but the mask had slipped.
After he left, Darlene allowed Marcus to help her stand.
Her hand shook against the desk.
Blake turned away to give her privacy, just as he had the night before.
“You don’t have to pretend with me,” he said.
“Pretending is why I still have a company.”
“It may also be why your brother thinks no one will defend you.”
Darlene looked at him for a long moment.
Then she unbuttoned her jacket and adjusted the visible edge of the brace instead of hiding it.
That afternoon, Blake picked
