PART 3 — THE NAME ON THE PAPER
Briggs turned the document so the people nearest the table could see the official seal.
Derek stared at it.
His confidence was gone.
“What does that mean?” he asked.
I didn’t answer immediately.
My mother was looking at me now.
Not Briggs.
Not Derek.
Me.
“Claire?”
I took a slow breath.
“Eight years ago, I worked with a federal emergency-response training unit.”
Derek blinked.
“What?”
“You heard me.”
“You?”
There was disbelief in his voice.
Not pride.
Not surprise.
Disbelief.
I almost smiled.
Because suddenly I was back at that birthday dinner.
I know you.
No.
He didn’t.
Briggs placed the folder flat on the table.
“You were part of the evaluation team during the Redstone facility incident.”
Derek frowned.
“What incident?”
Briggs looked at him.
“The one that never made the news.”
That sentence changed the atmosphere.
Aunt Linda lowered herself slowly into her chair.
My mother whispered my name.
Derek looked from Briggs to me.
“You never told us.”
“I wasn’t supposed to.”
“Why?”
“Because people were hurt.”
“And?”
“And because I signed an agreement.”
Derek shook his head.
“You worked with the military?”
“Not exactly.”
Briggs interrupted gently.
“She worked alongside military personnel.”
I looked at him.
“You don’t have to explain everything.”
“I know.”
His eyes dropped to the document.
“But your name came up again.”
My pulse quickened.
“Where?”
He turned the paper around.
There was a handwritten notation beneath my signature.
A date.
A location.
And three words.
REQUEST HER IMMEDIATELY.
Derek leaned over the table.
“Why would anyone request her?”
Briggs looked directly at him.
“Because of what happened this morning.”
The crowd behind us murmured.
I turned toward the finish line.
Only then did I notice the timing equipment.
One of the metal support poles had shifted.
A cable was stretched across the grass near the barricade.
And beside it was a damaged electrical box.
My eyes narrowed.
“Who set that up?”
Derek’s face changed.
“What?”
I pointed.
“That equipment wasn’t installed correctly.”
He looked offended.
“It’s an event setup.”
“No.”
I walked toward it.
Briggs followed.
“Claire?”
I crouched beside the box.
The casing had a fresh scrape along one corner.
The grounding cable was loose.
And there was mud beneath the latch.
Someone had opened it recently.
I looked back toward the tent.
Forty people were watching us.
My mother.
Aunt Linda.
Rachel.
Derek’s employees.
And Derek himself.
He looked more confused than afraid now.
I stood.
“This isn’t an accident.”
Derek swallowed.
“What are you saying?”
I didn’t answer.
Briggs reached into the folder and removed a second photograph.
He handed it to me.
It showed the same electrical box.
Taken two hours earlier.
Except in the photograph, the grounding cable was intact.
I stared at it.
Then at the damaged box.
Someone had tampered with it after the inspection.
Briggs lowered his voice.
“That’s why I came here.”
I looked at him.
“You weren’t here for the race.”
“No.”
“Then why?”
He glanced toward Derek.
“Because someone used your brother’s event to get close to you.”
Derek went completely still.
“What?”
Briggs folded the photograph.
“We don’t know who yet.”
A gust of wind lifted the corner of the manila folder.
For a moment, nobody moved.
Then Briggs looked at me.
“Claire, there’s one more page.”
He opened the folder.
I saw the photograph before he pulled it free.
It showed a man standing behind the sponsor tent.
Black cap.
Dark sunglasses.
Face turned away from the camera.
But I recognized the posture immediately.
My blood ran cold.
Because I had seen that man before.
Eight years ago.
At Redstone.
And the last time he appeared in my life, three people never made it home.