Her face went pale.
Three dark SUVs sat outside.
Federal plates.
People wearing FBI windbreakers stood near the entrance.
“No.”
She stared.
“No, no, no.”
“Deputy Chief Walsh is probably calling the mayor’s office right now.”
Andrew leaned back.
“He’s about to learn the mayor isn’t answering because the mayor is here.”
Wilson backed against the door.
“This isn’t possible.”
Then she whispered the truth.
“We’ve been careful.”
“No.”
Andrew’s voice was almost gentle.
“You’ve been sloppy.”
He began listing it.
“Evidence-room logs with your signature on altered entries.”
Wilson’s face collapsed.
“Radio transcripts that don’t match official reports.”
“Financial records showing deposits into your account on days evidence disappeared.”
Andrew watched her.
“You left a trail, Sergeant Wilson.”
The fire alarm stopped.
The silence afterward felt heavier than the noise had.
Wilson’s radio crackled.
“False alarm. All units return to stations.”
“That was Brooks,” Andrew said.
Wilson looked at him.
“He pulled the alarm to create confusion.”
Andrew continued.
“To give Clara time to copy the files.”
“To give federal agents time to get into position.”
He glanced toward the door.
“You have maybe five minutes.”
Wilson’s voice cracked.
“What do you want?”
Andrew didn’t answer.
“What do I have to do?”
“Nothing.”
He looked at her steadily.
“It’s too late for deals.”
Wilson slid down the door and sat on the floor.
Her service weapon remained secured on her hip.
She didn’t reach for it.
She just stared into space.
“Brandon was scared,” she said suddenly.
Andrew’s expression changed.
“That night, three years ago.”
Her voice became quieter.
“He kept saying he couldn’t breathe.”
Andrew said nothing.
“He kept asking for help.”
Wilson’s face tightened.
“Mitchell wouldn’t stop.”
She swallowed.
“I told him to stop.”
Her voice broke.
“I said we needed medical assistance.”
Andrew watched her.
“He said he only needed five more minutes.”
Wilson stared at the floor.
“Brandon died minutes later.”
“I know.”
Andrew’s voice was soft.
“I watched the clock.”
Wilson wiped at her face.
“I watched your brother die.”
“And I did nothing.”
Andrew let the silence remain.
Then he asked one question.
“Why?”
Wilson breathed unsteadily.
“Because I was scared.”
She looked up.
“Because Mitchell said if I reported it, we would both go down.”
“Because Walsh said he would handle it.”
Her shoulders sagged.
“Because I have a daughter in college.”
“A mortgage.”
“A pension.”
Her voice became almost inaudible.
“Because I was weak.”