Page 38 of Pursuit of Her

"Which files you accessed, whether you removed anything. She seemed particularly interested in old cases from a decade ago."

Eve nodded, absorbing this new information. Martinez wasn't just monitoring her current investigation; she was backtracking through Eve's history, perhaps looking for connections to Reagan Shaw.

"Thank you for the heads up," Eve said. "Maintain your regular duties. If Martinez approaches you directly?—"

"I know nothing beyond standard procedural details," Bennett finished. "I've got your back, Captain."

As Bennett departed, Eve's secure phone vibrated with a text from Ingrid Westfield:Evidence confirmed. R.S. DNA partial found on Judge H scene. Not in system. I removed from official record. Destroy this message.

Eve deleted the text immediately. Ingrid had just committed a felony—tampering with evidence to protect Reagan. The medical examiner had made her choice, aligning herself with Eve's covert investigation despite the risks.

Through the observation window, Eve watched Martinez answer a call, her expression shifting from confident to frustrated. The decoy operation had been discovered.

Time to move.

Eve slipped from the observation room and made her way to the evidence lockup. Using her captain's access code—soon to be revoked, undoubtedly—she entered the secure area and approached the technician on duty.

"I need to review the Harmon evidence," Eve said, presenting her badge. "Specifically, the documents found in his desk drawer."

The technician checked the system. "That evidence is under restricted access, Captain. Commissioner Brooks's direct order."

"I'm aware," Eve replied smoothly. "The restriction's been temporarily lifted for my review. You can verify with Detective Martinez."

A calculated risk. Martinez was currently occupied with the collapsed surveillance operation, and by the time she could verify, Eve would be gone.

The technician hesitated, then nodded. "Sign here, please. I'll retrieve the evidence box."

Eve signed and waited as the technician disappeared into the storage area. Minutes later, she returned with a sealed evidence container.

"Standard protocols apply," the technician reminded her. "Nothing leaves the room without proper documentation."

"Of course," Eve agreed, moving to the examination table.

Once alone, Eve worked quickly. The evidence box contained everything recovered from Judge Harmon's home office: documents, financial records, and the contents of his desk. Reagan had directed her to the bottom right drawer, and now Eve understood why.

Beneath a false bottom lay a second compartment containing a USB drive and a leather-bound ledger. Eve photographed both items with her secure phone, then carefully examined the ledger without removing it from the box.

Page after page of encoded entries—names replaced with initials, transactions listed with dates and amounts but no purposes. Eve recognized the pattern from her financial crimes training: a classic black book recording bribes, payoffs, and blackmail operations.

And there, on the final page, a list of six names with “cleanup” notations and substantial payment amounts beside each: Reginald Sinclaire, Nathaniel Peterson, Richard Davenport, Arthur Pembroke, Sebastian Harrington, and Jonathan Brooks. The first four had checkmarks beside them, as if marking completed transactions. Harmon had been documenting the network’s activities, perhaps as insurance or leverage against his co-conspirators.

As Eve photographed the final page, her phone buzzed with an urgent message from Bennett:Martinez returning to headquarters. ETA 5 min. Get out now.

Eve quickly restored the evidence box to its original condition and sealed it. She handed it back to the technician with a polite thanks, then made her way through the corridors, timing her departure to coincide with ashift change that would provide maximum coverage.

As she reached the door, her official phone rang—Martinez, undoubtedly, having discovered the deception. Eve silenced it without answering and slipped outside into the afternoon sun.

The evidence she'd gathered confirmed everything Reagan had claimed about the Phoenix Network. The corruption reached to the highest levels of Phoenix Ridge's power structure, with Commissioner Brooks's husband at its center.

Now Eve needed to warn Reagan before she executed Arthur Pembroke. But first, she needed to evade Martinez's inevitable pursuit—and the department-wide hunt that would follow once Brooks realized what Eve had discovered.

But first, she needed to evade Martinez's inevitable pursuit—and the department-wide hunt that would follow once Brooks realized what Eve had discovered.

As she drove away from headquarters, Eve watched the rearview mirror. No immediate tail, but Martinez wouldn't be far behind once she discovered the evidence Eve had accessed.

The city sprawled around her, afternoon traffic providing both cover and obstacles. Eve took three unnecessary turns, a route that would reveal any pursuit while appearing random to casual observation. When satisfied she wasn't being followed, she headed northwest toward the cliffs—a location significant not just for its tactical advantages but for the clarity it had always brought her in moments of crisis.

She abandoned the department car in a tourist parking lot, walking the last half-mile to ensure she arrived alone. The path wound upward through scrub pine and weather-worn stone, the physicality of the climb matching her internal struggle: upward, difficult, necessary.

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