Chapter 1 - The Hidden Drive
The fluorescent lights of the police station buzzed above me as I stared at the plastic evidence bag.
Inside was the shattered lens of my mother's reading glasses.
Sergeant Christopher stood with his arms crossed, waiting for me to process the information.
I handed the bag back to him, my military training forcing my heart rate to remain steady.
I thanked him for his time and told him I needed to go home to speak with my husband.
I walked out to my car and drove through the empty streets of Baltimore.
My mind raced through the fifteen years I had spent married to Ryan.
He was a youth counselor, a man who baked pies for neighbors and never raised his voice.
When I opened the front door of our house, the hallway was completely dark.
I heard the faint sound of a zipper coming from our master bedroom.
I unholstered my service weapon, keeping it hidden behind my leg as I walked down the hall.
Ryan was tossing folded shirts into a large leather duffel bag on the bed.
He froze when he saw me standing in the doorway.
He immediately put on his best performance, his eyes welling up with fake tears.
He told me my mother had suffered a psychotic break and attacked him with a fireplace poker.
I nodded slowly, pretending to believe his ridiculous story.
I told him I needed to take a shower to wash the hospital smell off my uniform.
I locked the bathroom door and turned on the water, but I did not step inside.
Instead, I quietly opened the adjoining closet door and found the heavy leather boots he had worn that night.
I ran my fingers along the thick rubber sole where the glass shard had been embedded.
My thumb caught on a hollow groove near the heel.
I pulled out my tactical knife and pried the rubber section away from the leather.
Inside the hollowed-out heel was a small, waterproof titanium flash drive.
I plugged it into my encrypted military phone and bypassed the basic security firewall.
The screen illuminated with a series of massive offshore banking transfers.
The total amount was thirty-five million dollars stolen directly from Fort Meade's defense budget.
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But it was the name on the accounts that made my blood run cold.
Every single penny was registered under my mother's legal name.
