“This is bigger than Deerfield.”

Troy nodded.

“Much bigger.”

CHAPTER 5 — THE OFFICER WHO FINALLY SPOKE

Jason Morrison had spent twelve years believing that fear was power.

Now he was discovering the opposite.

Fear could also make people talk.

Especially when the person doing the threatening realized he was no longer protected.

Morrison was charged federally.

His badge was confiscated.

His gun was removed.

His access to department systems was terminated.

But he still refused to cooperate.

For three days, he said nothing.

Then his lawyer received a call.

“I want immunity.”

The prosecutor laughed.

“You're not in a position to negotiate immunity.”

“Then I want protection.”

“From whom?”

Morrison looked toward the window.

“Everyone.”

That afternoon, he finally agreed to talk.

Troy sat across from him.

Morrison wouldn't look at him.

“You knew who I was,” Troy said.

“No.”

“You knew enough to be afraid.”

“I didn't.”

“You smashed my window because you thought I was powerless.”

Morrison's jaw tightened.

Troy continued.

“That is the problem with people like you.”

Morrison finally looked up.

“You think you're better than me?”

“No.”

Troy leaned forward.

“I think you made a choice.”

Silence.

“You chose to use your badge as a weapon.”

Morrison looked down.

Then he spoke.

“Hale started it.”

Troy didn't react.

“He paid Reeves.”

“How much?”

“I don't know.”

“You do.”

“Thousands.”

“Monthly?”

“Yes.”

“What did Reeves do?”

“Everything.”

Morrison began naming names.

Officers.

Detectives.

Tow companies.

Judges.

Business owners.

People who had helped bury complaints.

People who had accepted money.

People who had threatened witnesses.

And then Morrison said something Troy hadn't expected.

“Reeves ordered me to stop you.”

“Before the traffic stop?”

“Yes.”

“How did he know you were investigating?”

Morrison hesitated.

“Someone at the federal office.”

Troy's expression changed.

“What?”

Morrison shook his head.

“I don't know the name.”

“You better find it.”

“He was called Gray.”

“Gray?”

“That's all I know.”

Troy stood.

“Who communicated with him?”

“Reeves.”

“Through what?”

“A secure phone.”

“Where is it?”

Morrison gave an address.

An abandoned house outside town.

Agents searched it that night.

They found a phone.

Encrypted.

A laptop.

And photographs.

Photographs of Troy.

Photographs of Keller.

Photographs of federal vehicles.

Someone had been watching the FBI.

The investigation had been compromised from the inside.

Keller stared at the photographs.

“How long?”

Troy shook his head.

“We don't know.”

Then an agent rushed into the room.

“We found something.”

He handed Troy a laptop.

On the screen was a document.

PROJECT SILENCE

Troy opened it.

The first page listed federal investigators.

The second page listed journalists.

The third listed witnesses.

The fourth contained one sentence:

If investigation continues, neutralize pressure points.

Troy's face hardened.

“Who wrote this?”

The metadata revealed a username.

LGRANT

Lydia Grant.

The missing records supervisor.

Troy immediately issued an alert.

“Find her.”

Six hours later, agents found her at a motel two states away.

She was arrested without resistance.

During interrogation, she admitted deleting complaints.

But she denied creating Project Silence.

“Who did?”

She began crying.