Chapter 2 - THE SALUTE
Police Chief Marcus Reed walked through the crowd in full dress uniform.
Behind him came six detectives.
Two were from Major Crimes.
Three were from Financial Crimes.
And one was Special Agent Rachel Monroe from the FBI.
The room went dead silent.
Vanessa stared at me.
Then at them.
Then back at me.
Chief Reed stopped three feet away.
I had not seen him in almost a year.
His hair was grayer.
The scar along his jaw had faded.
But his eyes were the same.
Steady.
Sharp.
Alive.
He looked at my torn dress.
Then the bullet scar.
His expression hardened.
Chief Reed raised his hand.
And saluted me.
In front of everyone.
“Elena.”
I swallowed.
“Chief.”
For a second, the beach club disappeared.
I was twenty-eight again.
Rain.
Gunfire.
A flipped patrol car.
Marcus bleeding beside me.
My hand pressed against his neck while another shooter came through the smoke.
Vanessa’s voice cracked through the silence.
“What is this?”
Chief Reed slowly lowered his hand.
“This woman didn’t run with criminals.”
He turned toward the crowd.
“She spent six years putting them in prison.”
Whispers became gasps.
Daniel stared at me.
He knew pieces of my past.
Not all of it.
Almost no one did.
Chief Reed continued.
“Elena Cross served as a confidential field investigator attached to a joint anti-corruption task force.”
Vanessa laughed too loudly.
“That’s ridiculous.”
Special Agent Monroe stepped forward.
“No, Ms. Vale. What’s ridiculous is forging federal banking records and displaying them publicly.”
Vanessa’s face drained.
“My records are real.”
“No,” I said.
“They aren’t.”
I nodded toward the screen.
“Transfer seven.”
Vanessa glanced behind her.
I continued.
“The routing number ends in 4428.”
“So?”
“That bank closed the account carrying that routing sequence eighteen months before the transfer date.”
She said nothing.
I pointed again.
“Transfer eleven.”
Her breathing changed.
“Your people used my maiden name.”
“So?”
“I stopped using Elena Cross professionally eight years ago.”
Daniel turned sharply toward me.
I ignored him.
“There was no legal database connecting that name to the task force.”
Chief Reed added quietly, “Meaning whoever created those documents had access to sealed personnel files.”
Now the room was no longer laughing.
Vanessa backed toward the stage.
“This is insane.”
Special Agent Monroe held up a warrant.
“No, this is an investigation.”
A detective moved toward Vanessa.
Then something crashed behind the bar.
Everyone turned.
The undercover bartender I had noticed earlier was wrestling with a man in a tuxedo.
The man smashed a bottle, shoved him away, and ran toward the service hall.
I recognized him immediately.
Peter Sloan.
Vanessa’s foundation accountant.
And the man who had supposedly died six months ago.
I pointed.
“Stop him!”
Sloan reached the service door.
Before disappearing through it, he looked straight at Vanessa and shouted:
May you like
“You said Elena would take the fall!”
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