Lincoln stopped breathing.
The Chicago coordinates. The address that had shown as an empty lot, a nothing, a gap in the map. Specter’s database identified it as a federal evidence storage facility, its existence scrubbed from every public record, known only to those with the highest clearances.
He ran the next coordinate. Phoenix. The empty address that had frustrated him for days suddenly had a name: another federal evidence storage facility. Same classification.
Houston. Washington DC. Seattle. Denver.
One by one, the blank spots on the map resolved into meaning. Federal evidence storage facilities scattered across the country, their locations so classified that they’d been invisible until Specter’s data gave him the key.
His pulse hammered against his ribs. Finally. After days of dead ends and mounting pressure, he was looking at a pattern. One he had never expected.
“You found something.”
Morgan’s voice came from the doorway. He turned to find her standing there in one of his T-shirts, her hair tangled from sleep, her arms wrapped around herself against the chill of the house.
Lincoln stared at her for a moment, his mind still catching up to what his screens were telling him.
“Yes. Or at least have figured out why we couldn’t find anything before.” He shook his head, still unable to believe what was in front of him. “The coordinates. Every single one pointed to a real, specific location. But when I searched for what was at those locations?—”
“They were empty lots,” Morgan said, moving toward him. “Addresses that don’t exist. We’ve been through this.”
“But they do exist. They just don’t look like it through normal channels because they’re classified.” Lincoln pushed back from the desk, making room for her. “Federal evidence storage facilities. The addresses are scrubbed from every public database—digital maps, municipal records, property registries. They don’t exist as far as the normal world is concerned.”
“But how did you access this info if it’s so hidden?”
“An old contact sent me a leaked classified federal employee database. Personnel records, security clearances—and classified facility addresses. The kind of information that isn’t supposed to exist outside the most secure government servers.”
“How did he get it, then?” she asked.
Lincoln shook his head. “I didn’t ask, and I don’t want to know. Specter is not a normal contact. I’ve been using dark web databases to see if we could get anything, but where Specter resides…that’s not somewhere I let myself go.”
Mostly because he was afraid he would never come back.
“But the important thing is…this database is the key we’ve been missing.” He gestured at his screen, at the matches still displayed there. “I cross-referenced your coordinates against those classified addresses. Chicago. Phoenix. Houston. DC. Seattle. Denver. Every single one corresponds to a classified federal evidence storage facility.”
She leaned over his shoulder, close enough that he could feel her warmth against his back. Her eyes moved across his screens—the coordinate matches, the facility classifications, the pattern that had finally emerged from days of chaos.
“That’s why nothing showed up?” she asked slowly. “We were looking in public records for locations that have been deliberately erased from public records?”
“Exactly. The facilities exist. They’re real, physical buildings. But officially, on paper, in any legit database—they’re not there.”
They both stared at the screen.
“Evidence storage,” Morgan said, and he could hear her working through it too. “Is that what it sounds like? Physical evidence. The kind that puts people in prison.”
“Yes. Or keeps them there. Chain of custody documentation. Original forensic samples.” Lincoln pulled up the facility classifications, scanning the details. “Case files that can’t exist only in digital form because the physical artifact matters for prosecution.”
“So why does Randall care where evidence is stored?”
The question hung between them. Lincoln turned it over, looking for the angle, the motivation, the thing that would make a criminal operation invest this much effort into mapping classified federal facilities.
“What if he’s planning to do something to that evidence?” He spun to look at her, the shape of something starting to form in his mind. “Steal it. Destroy it.”
“Make it disappear,” she continued for him. “If you could make evidence vanish from a federal facility?—”
“Cases collapse. Prosecutions fail.” It locked into place. “Guilty people walk free.”
They looked at each other, the same realization landing at the same moment.
