Chapter 4 - FORTY-SEVEN MINUTES.
The missing footage changed the way Detective Ortiz treated the case.
Not publicly.
Not yet.
Publicly, Chloe Sterling was still the victim of an assault under investigation.
Privately, Ortiz stopped using the phrase possible robbery.
Alexander noticed.
He also noticed that Hawthorne University hired an outside crisis-management firm before lunch.
That interested him more.
Most people did not hire reputation specialists when they believed nothing complicated had happened.
At 1:20 P.M., Hawthorne released a short statement.
The university expressed concern.
It wished Chloe a full recovery.
It emphasized cooperation with local authorities.
It asked the public not to engage in speculation.
Alexander read it twice.
The statement did not mention Founders’ Night.
It did not mention the missing surveillance footage.
It did not mention that Chloe had been working the event.
It certainly did not mention Bryce Vale.
Julian Vance called while Alexander was reading it.
“I have preliminary information.”
“Talk.”
“Conrad Vale. Fifty-eight. Founder of Vale Meridian Holdings. Commercial real estate, private equity, hospital systems, education investments.”
“Education investments.”
“He’s contributed approximately forty-one million dollars to Hawthorne over fifteen years.”
Alexander looked toward the university from the hospital parking garage.
“Approximately?”
“I stopped counting.”
“Family?”
“Wife deceased. One son, Bryce.”
“Problems?”
“A few.”
“Criminal?”
“Nothing proven.”
Alexander appreciated the wording.
“What kind of problems?”
“Civil disputes. Employee complaints. Aggressive acquisitions. Two discrimination suits settled without admission of wrongdoing.”
“Against Conrad?”
“Companies he controlled.”
“Anything about Bryce?”
Julian paused.
“Campus incidents.”
“How many?”
“At least three reports that went nowhere.”
“What kind?”
“Alcohol. Property damage. One confrontation with another student.”
“Assault?”
“Not formally.”
“Why not?”
“The complainant withdrew.”
Alexander leaned against his truck.
“Money?”
“Unknown.”
“Pressure?”
“Unknown.”
“Then don’t guess.”
There was a short silence.
Julian almost sounded amused.
“You haven’t changed.”
“I have.”
“Yes, sir.”
Alexander looked at the hospital entrance.
“What about the challenge coin?”
Julian hesitated.
“What about it?”
“I pulled it out last night.”
Another pause.
“You haven’t carried that in years.”
“I know.”
“Why now?”
Alexander turned the black coin over.
Silver eagle.
Vanguard Force.
“I wanted to remember who I was before I became somebody’s father.”
“And?”
Alexander looked toward Chloe’s window.
“I remembered being her father matters more.”
Julian did not answer for a moment.
Then he said, “Good.”
It was the first time anyone had spoken to Alexander that way in a long time.
Not as Commander.
Not as a grieving parent.
As a man being reminded not to become the thing he had once been trained to become.
“Keep looking,” Alexander said.
“I will.”
“Information only.”
“Understood.”
Alexander returned to Chloe’s room.
She had not awakened, but the doctors were cautiously encouraged.
Swelling remained serious.
Her breathing was more stable.
Alexander sat.
He told her about ordinary things.
The dog at home had refused breakfast.
The neighbor had finally removed the broken Christmas lights from his porch even though it was February.
Her Subaru needed an oil change.
He avoided Bryce Vale.
He avoided the photograph.
He avoided saying he was scared because he had a feeling Chloe already knew.
At 3:42, Ortiz entered.
She carried coffee and looked tired enough to qualify as hospital furniture.
“Traffic cameras,” she said.
Alexander stood.
“Got something?”
“Maybe.”
She opened a tablet.
A city camera two blocks from campus had captured part of the service road.
The image quality was poor.
Time stamp: 11:26 P.M.
Chloe appeared walking alone.
Alexander’s throat tightened.
She wore a dark coat.
Her pace was quick.
She looked over her shoulder once.
Then a black SUV entered the frame.
It slowed.
The camera angle did not show what happened next.
At 11:27, both Chloe and the SUV moved beyond view.
At 11:31, the SUV reappeared.
Alexander stared at the screen.
“Plate?”
“Partial.”
“Registered?”
“Vehicle is owned by Vale Meridian Foundation.”
Alexander looked at Ortiz.
“That proves something.”
“It proves the foundation owns an SUV matching the one on camera.”
“Don’t.”
“What?”
“Give me the lecture.”
“I’m going to.”
“I know what it proves.”
“Say it.”
Alexander exhaled.
“It proves the vehicle was there.”
“Good.”
“Not who was inside.”
“Good.”
“Not who attacked Chloe.”
“Exactly.”
Alexander hated how much he respected her.
“Driver?”
“Not visible.”
“GPS?”
“Requested.”
“Foundation cooperating?”
Ortiz looked at him.
“What do you think?”
Alexander gave her a look.
“Right. No speculation.”
She almost smiled.
Then her expression changed.
“There’s more.”
She advanced the video.
At 11:33, another figure entered frame from the direction of campus.
Male.
Dark jacket.
Face unclear.
The figure stopped near the curb and appeared to look toward where Chloe had disappeared.
Then he turned around.
Alexander leaned closer.
“Can you enhance it?”
“Not enough to create details that aren’t there.”
“Height?”
“Maybe six feet.”
“Age?”
“No.”
“Campus security?”
“Could be.”
“Could be anybody.”
“Correct.”
Ortiz closed the tablet.
Alexander sat again.
“Why erase the university footage?”
“That’s what I’m trying to answer.”
“Who had access?”
“Facilities. Campus security. IT administrators. Several senior staff accounts.”
“Vale?”
“Not directly.”
“Directly.”
Ortiz noticed the emphasis.
“Yes. Directly.”
Alexander nodded.
Before she left, she handed him a business card.
“Call me before you do anything you think I’m going to hate.”
“That’s a broad category.”
“I’m serious.”
“So am I.”
She walked toward the door.
Then stopped.
“Mr. Sterling.”
He looked at her.
“Somebody from Hawthorne contacted the chief.”
Alexander waited.
“They’re concerned about your background.”
There it was.
Not Chloe’s injuries.
Not deleted footage.
Not the SUV.
His background.
“What about it?”
“They know you served.”
“So do you.”
“They know more than that.”
Alexander looked at the challenge coin sitting beside Chloe’s bed.
“How much more?”
“Enough to use the word commander.”
Alexander did not move.
Very few people outside an old circle had ever called him that.
Ortiz watched him.
“You told the university?”
“No.”
“Chloe?”
“She knows I served. She doesn’t know everything.”
“Then how would Hawthorne know?”
Alexander looked toward his unconscious daughter.
He remembered the missing phone.
The erased footage.
The black SUV.
And the nurse saying university security cared about Chloe’s phone before they seemed to care about Chloe.
Then his own phone vibrated.
Unknown number.
A text.
STOP DIGGING, COMMANDER.
Alexander read it twice.
Ortiz saw his face.
“What?”
He turned the screen toward her.
May you like
For the first time since meeting him, Detective Lena Ortiz stopped looking skeptical.
Somebody at Hawthorne knew exactly who Chloe Sterling’s father had been.
