search warrant on Lieutenant Harlan’s locker and his personal vehicle parked in staff lot B,” Alvarez said.
Harlan went chalk-white. “Captain, this is a violation of protocol—”
”Quiet,” Captain Miller snapped.
Alvarez opened the file. “Inside the spare tire compartment of Harlan’s truck, we recovered four more packages of the identical narcotics seized from cell 114, three prepaid burner phones, and five thousand dollars in banded cash. We also ran the serial number on the phone recovered from Mercer’s cell.”
She looked directly at Voss.
”The device was registered to an account paid for by a woman named Clara Voss—your sister, Curtis. The call logs show twelve incoming calls from Lieutenant Harlan’s personal mobile over the past ten days, including one placed forty-five minutes before Mercer was raided.”
Voss’s smug slouch vanished. His hands dropped to the table. “That doesn’t prove anything. My sister sends money to half the yard—”
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