Chapter 6 - Morgan's Perfect SmileMorgan arrived at the hospital shortly after noon.
She came alone, carrying a bouquet of white lilies and wearing a pale blue dress that made her look almost angelic. Two cameras followed her from the entrance to the lobby, operated by a man who introduced himself as a freelance photographer.
I learned about the visit from hospital security.
By the time I reached the corridor, Morgan was standing outside Elise's room, speaking softly to a nurse.
“I only want to tell her I'm sorry,” she said. “She's family to me.”
“No visitors without authorization.”
“But I'm practically her sister.”
I stepped into view.
Morgan turned.
For a fraction of a second, fear crossed her face.
Then she smiled.
“Nia. You've finally come home.”
I studied her carefully.
She was younger than Ryan, perhaps thirty-four, with immaculate hair and expensive jewelry. Everything about her appearance had been selected to communicate control.
“You need to leave,” I said.
“I brought flowers for Elise.”
“She doesn't want to see you.”
“You haven't asked her.”
“I don't need to.”
Her smile tightened.
“I understand you're upset, but Ryan didn't intend for things to go this far.”
“You were there.”
Morgan glanced toward the cameras.
“I won't discuss private family matters in a hospital corridor.”
“Then you should have kept your hands out of my daughter's marriage.”
For a moment, the pleasant mask slipped.
“You think you're very important, don't you?”
“No.”
“You fly home with your uniform and your mysterious colleagues, and suddenly everyone is supposed to be terrified of you.”
“I haven't asked anyone to be terrified.”
“Ryan says you're an administrative clerk. He says you spend your days sorting paper while pretending you're some kind of hero.”
I said nothing.
Morgan leaned closer.
“Whatever you think you can do, understand this. Ryan has friends. Powerful friends. People who won't appreciate an ordinary soldier interfering in business she doesn't understand.”
“That sounds like a threat.”
“It's advice.”
She placed the lilies on a nearby table.
Then she lowered her voice.
“You should go back overseas while you still can. Elise might recover, or she might not. Either way, making enemies won't help her.”
I watched her turn to leave.
At the elevator, she glanced back and said, “Tell your daughter to stop lying about the drive.”
Then the doors closed.
I immediately informed Torres about the exchange.
By midafternoon, security footage had confirmed that Morgan's photographer had filmed the hospital entrance, the elevators, and the corridor outside Elise's room.
He had also photographed the officers guarding her.
It was not journalism.
It was reconnaissance.
Torres found the man's identity within hours. He had been paid by a company called Vale Consulting, registered to a residential address that belonged to Morgan's cousin.
Grant examined the payment trail.
“The company is almost certainly a front,” he said. “It's received transfers from two of the same shell entities connected to Cole Strategic.”
“Can we establish who authorized the payments?”
“We're working on it.”
A few hours later, Torres called.
“There's another development. Ryan's attorney contacted the district attorney's office. He says his client has evidence that Elise was stealing company property and suffered an accidental injury during a domestic dispute.”
I stared at her.
“An accidental injury?”
“He's preparing to argue that the recording was edited and that your daughter has a financial motive to frame him.”
The audacity was almost impressive.
“He hit her eleven times?”
“The medical findings will speak for themselves. But we need to anticipate the defense.”
Then Torres placed a printed photograph on the table.
It showed Elise standing beside Ryan at a company event. They were smiling. His hand rested on her shoulder.
At first, I thought it was an ordinary photograph.
Then I noticed the date.
Six weeks before the assault.
In the background, beside a banner for Voss Meridian, stood Morgan and Adrian Voss.
And behind them was a man wearing a dark suit.
I recognized him from our investigation.
He was a former intelligence contractor suspected of selling sensitive information.
“What was he doing there?” I asked.
Torres shook her head.
“We don't know yet.”
Grant enlarged the photograph.
“Look at Voss's hand.”
A tiny silver object was visible between his fingers.
A key.
Not a car key. Not a normal office key.
A small metal key attached to a black tag.
Elise had described the tag on the drive.
I called the hospital and asked to speak to my daughter.
“Sweetheart, do you remember seeing a key attached to the drive?”
“Yes.”
“Was it silver?”
“Yes. Why?”
I looked at the photograph.
“Because I think Ryan wasn't just searching for a file.”
“What was he searching for?”
I stared at the men standing behind my daughter's smiling face.
“A way to open something.”
At that exact moment, Grant's computer chimed.
An alert appeared.
Someone had just attempted to access a secured storage unit registered under Daniel Carter's name.
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The storage facility was located twenty minutes from Elise's home.
And the attempted access had occurred using an electronic key assigned to Morgan.
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