Chapter 5 - PATRICIA’S LAST FAVORWe did not chase Patricia ourselves.
That mattered.
Real life does not become more heroic when people ignore procedures and race into dangerous situations because emotion tells them they are the exception.
Daniel gave investigators the cabin address.
Local authorities were contacted.
Military investigators coordinated where appropriate.
Then we waited.
Waiting was unbearable.
At 3:40 p.m., Daniel sat across from me in a small interview room with his attorney beside him.
His hands shook.
He had finally begun talking.
Not to me.
To investigators.
Fully.
He told them about Victor Hale.
Warehouse 12.
The unauthorized equipment movement.
The loan.
His mother's involvement.
And another detail nobody expected.
Patricia had been paying Hale.
Not the other way around.
“She gave him almost twenty thousand dollars,” Daniel said.
The investigator frowned.
“Why?”
“To make the problem disappear.”
“How?”
“I don’t know.”
“Captain, this is the moment to stop protecting people.”
“I’m not.”
The investigator waited.
Daniel looked at me.
His lawyer immediately said, “Do not look at your wife for help.”
Daniel lowered his gaze.
“She wanted Hale to sign a statement saying I had acted on his instructions and believed the transfer was authorized.”
“Was that true?”
“No.”
“Did you know she was paying him?”
“Not at first.”
“And later?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“August.”
Three months ago.
I closed my eyes.
Three months of breakfasts.
Three months of sleeping beside him.
Three months of him asking about my day while knowing his mother was buying a false statement from a contractor.
The investigator continued.
“What happened when Hale refused?”
“He didn’t refuse.”
I looked up.
Daniel's attorney shifted.
“He agreed?”
“Yes.”
“For twenty thousand?”
“Yes.”
“So why didn't the matter disappear?”
“Because he wanted more.”
Blackmail again.
Daniel had not merely fallen into a hole.
He had kept digging whenever the exit required telling the truth.
“Hale realized Mom was terrified of me being investigated,” Daniel continued. “He started demanding money.”
“How much?”
“Eventually fifty thousand.”
“Did she pay?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“She didn’t have it.”
That surprised me.
Patricia lived extravagantly.
Country clubs.
Fundraisers.
Designer clothes.
Annual vacations.
Daniel’s father had died eight years earlier and left her what everyone believed was substantial wealth.
Apparently appearances had survived longer than the money.
“She borrowed against her house,” Daniel said.
The investigator leaned forward.
“To protect you?”
Daniel nodded.
Something inside me twisted.
Patricia had done terrible things.
But obsession often grows around something real.
She loved her son.
She had simply turned that love into permission.
Permission to interfere.
Permission to lie.
Permission to buy outcomes.
Permission to hurt anyone she imagined stood between Daniel and success.
Including me.
At 4:12, the investigator’s phone buzzed.
He looked at the screen.
Then stood.
“Excuse me.”
He left.
Daniel stared at the table.
“I never wanted this.”
I answered before his lawyer could object.
“You wanted every step before this.”
He looked up.
“What?”
“You wanted Vance exposed.”
“Yes.”
“You wanted the equipment transfer to help you.”
“I thought—”
“You wanted Hale quiet.”
He flinched.
“You wanted your mother to solve things.”
“That’s not fair.”
“It is exactly fair. You didn't want this ending. But you wanted every shortcut that created it.”
His eyes filled.
“I was supposed to make major.”
I stared at him.
He laughed bitterly.
“Stupid, isn’t it?”
“Yes.”
That answer seemed to surprise him.
I continued.
“You already had a career people would have been proud of. Soldiers trusted you. I trusted you. But major became proof that you mattered, and when you thought somebody might keep you from getting it, you started treating every boundary like an obstacle.”
Daniel looked away.
“My father died believing I’d make general someday.”
There it was.
Patricia had repeated that prophecy at every holiday.
Your father knew you were destined for stars.
Your father would be so proud.
Your father always said you were different.
Daniel had built a prison out of a dead man’s expectations.
“That wasn't an order,” I said.
He looked at me.
“Your father loving you did not obligate you to become him.”
Daniel’s face crumpled.
For several seconds he could not speak.
Then the investigator returned.
“They found Mrs. Brooks.”
Daniel stood.
“Is she alive?”
“Yes.”
The room exhaled.
“She was located near Raven Lake. Her vehicle slid off a service road.”
“Was she hurt?”
“Minor injuries.”
Daniel gripped the chair.
“Thank God.”
The investigator did not sit.
“Captain, there’s more.”
Daniel looked at him.
“Your mother had several storage drives in the vehicle.”
His face changed.
“Drives?”
“Records apparently taken from Hale’s office.”
Warehouse 12.
The fire.
She had gone there for evidence.
“Did she start the fire?” I asked.
“We don't know yet.”
Daniel sank into his chair.
The investigator continued.
“She says Hale started it.”
“Where is Hale?”
“Still missing.”
Daniel rubbed his face.
Then suddenly looked up.
“Check the old airfield.”
Everyone turned.
“What?” the investigator asked.
Daniel’s breathing quickened.
“Hale leases hangar space at Dalton Field.”
“Why?”
“He restores aircraft.”
“Why haven't you mentioned this?”
“I forgot.”
The investigator’s expression sharpened.
“You forgot a location connected to the man we're trying to find?”
“I haven't been there in a year.”
“Captain.”
Daniel shut his eyes.
“I met him there once.”
His attorney whispered something.
Daniel shook his head.
“No. I’m done.”
He looked at the investigator.
“I met Hale at Dalton Field eleven months ago. He showed me two communications units.”
My stomach dropped.
Two.
“There were three,” I said.
Daniel looked at me.
“Yes.”
“What happened to the third?”
“I never knew.”
The investigator asked, “What did Hale tell you?”
“That he had a buyer.”
“For government equipment?”
“Yes.”
“And you did not report that?”
Daniel’s voice broke.
“No.”
The room became very still.
The original case had been about fraudulent invoices.
Then unauthorized transfers.
Now potentially diverted government equipment.
Daniel looked like he finally understood that the word career no longer belonged anywhere near the center of the problem.
His attorney placed a hand flat on the table.
“We need a private consultation.”
The investigator nodded.
Before leaving, he turned back.
“Captain, one question.”
Daniel looked up.
“Does Mrs. Brooks know about Dalton Field?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“She drove me there.”
The investigator left immediately.
I stood.
Daniel’s attorney looked at me.
“Colonel, I need privacy with my client.”
“Of course.”
Daniel stood too.
“Evelyn.”
I paused at the door.
“I’m sorry.”
I had imagined hearing those words.
Last night, I would have given almost anything for them.
Now they seemed very small.
“I believe you.”
His eyes searched mine.
“But sorry is where accountability starts, Daniel.”
I opened the door.
“It isn’t where it ends.”
Outside, General Mercer waited.
His expression told me there was another problem.
“What?”
“Hale has been found.”
“Dalton Field?”
He nodded.
“Trying to leave.”
“Did they get him?”
“Yes.”
I exhaled.
Mercer did not.
“What else?”
“Hale made an allegation.”
“Against Daniel?”
“Against you.”
That stopped me.
“What allegation?”
“He claims Colonel Evelyn Carter orchestrated the unauthorized transfer as part of a covert procurement operation.”
For one second, I could only stare.
Then I laughed.
Mercer did not.
“He has documents.”
My laughter stopped.
“What documents?”
“Orders.”
“That’s impossible.”
“I know.”
“They're forged.”
“Probably.”
“Probably?”
“He has emails bearing your name, memoranda with your signature, and copies of your travel schedule.”
The personnel access.
Suddenly it made sense.
Someone had not merely wanted to know where I worked.
They had been building paperwork around me.
A shield.
Or a scapegoat.
“Hale knew who I was.”
“Yes.”
“Before Patricia?”
“We don't know.”
I looked through the glass at Daniel.
His head was lowered while his lawyer spoke urgently beside him.
“Does Daniel know about the documents?”
“We haven't asked him yet.”
I looked at Mercer.
For the first time since the ball, genuine fear settled into my chest.
My rank had shocked the room.
My ID had stopped Patricia’s humiliation attempt.
But rank does not make anyone untouchable.
It shouldn’t.
If evidence pointed at me, I would be examined like anyone else.
“Sir.”
“Yes?”
“I want every rule followed.”
“They will be.”
“No favors.”
“None.”
“Even if this destroys me.”
Mercer studied me.
“That is why it probably won’t.”
I wished I shared his confidence.
Then the conference-room door opened.
Daniel stepped out.
He looked at me, then Mercer.
“What happened?”
Neither of us answered immediately.
And Daniel knew.
Not the details.
But enough.
He walked toward me.
“What did Hale say?”
I held his gaze.
“He says I ordered the whole thing.”
Daniel's face went completely blank.
May you like
Then he whispered something I would remember for the rest of my life.
“My mother asked me for a copy of your signature last spring.”
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