Nathan didn’t bother with greetings. He stepped to the desk and dropped an old, cracked plastic badge onto the polished wood. It was Mike Darden’s shop ID—the mechanic’s badge they’d found near the factory in a pile of moldy papers and the remains of another torn note.
“Does this name sound familiar?” Nathan asked.
Victor adjusted his glasses and leaned closer.
“Mike Darden,” he said slowly. “Your wife’s mechanic, if I’m not mistaken.”
“Correct,” Nathan replied. “I found his ID in the same place I found Lauren’s necklace. And her note. She’s alive, Victor.”
For a split second—barely the length of a blink—Victor’s face lost its color. Then he quickly recovered and forced a sympathetic smile.
“You’ve been grieving for years,” he said. “It’s natural to want to believe—”
Nathan slammed his fist on the desk so hard the pen holder jumped.
“I found evidence,” he snapped. “I found the dog. And I know you closed the case and paid off the mechanic. Why?”
A bead of sweat formed at Victor’s temple.
“I followed orders,” he muttered. “It was… safer for everyone. There was a lot on the line.”
“Whose orders?” Nathan pushed.
Victor said nothing. The silence stretched, thick with tension.