Chapter 8 - Uncle Greg
Gregory Sloane had never been invited into my home.
I was certain of that before the forensic team checked a single frame.
Sophia was equally certain she had seen him.
The child interviewer arrived that afternoon and spoke with her without me or Claire in the room.
We watched through approved observation glass while a trained specialist used open-ended questions instead of feeding her details.
Sophia drew the patio first.
Then the kitchen.
Then a tall man with square glasses standing near my study.
"Who is that?" the interviewer asked.
"Uncle Greg."
"How do you know his name?"
"Aunt Sarah called him that."
"What did Uncle Greg do?"
Sophia colored the man's shirt blue.
"He got mad because the door beeped."
"What door?"
"Daddy's work door."
"What happened when it beeped?"
"Aunt Sarah put a towel over the little light."
I felt Marcus shift beside me in the observation room.
The system's status LED would flash amber after a tamper event.
A towel would hide it from casual view but not stop the alert.
"What did Uncle Greg say?"
Sophia frowned.
"He said she was supposed to know the code."
"What did Aunt Sarah say?"
"She said Daddy changed it."
My code had been rotated after the first irregular access alert.
Sophia continued drawing.
"Then Uncle Greg said she better fix it because he already paid her."
Claire covered her mouth.
The interviewer did not react.
"Paid her for what?"
"I don't know."
"Did they see you?"
Sophia nodded.
"Aunt Sarah did."
"What happened?"
"She told me to go play outside."
"Did you?"
"No, it was raining."
"Then what?"
"She squeezed my arm and said I was nosy."
The interviewer asked whether that was the same day as the birthday.
Sophia shook her head.
"Before."
"How many sleeps before?"
Sophia thought hard.
"A lot."
That was enough.
The exact date could come from security logs.
When the interview ended, Claire walked into the hallway and pressed both hands to the wall.
"She knew Sophia had seen him."
"Yes."
"For how long?"
"At least days, maybe weeks."
"And we kept leaving them together."
I did not tell Claire not to blame herself this time.
I felt the same guilt.
Instead, I said, "We fix what we can now."
Marcus approached with a tablet.
"We found Sloane on exterior footage."
"When?"
"Nine days ago."
He showed me a camera angle from the side gate.
Sloane wore a baseball cap and carried a courier bag.
Sarah opened the gate before he reached it.
She had been waiting.
He stayed inside for nineteen minutes.
"My schedule that day?"
"Range qualification."
"Claire?"
"At work."
"Sophia?"
"Home from preschool with Sarah."
My hand tightened around the tablet.
Marcus lowered his voice.
"Sir, you need to let the investigators carry this now."
"I am."
"You are analyzing faster than they can document."
"That is not interfering."
"No, but you are going to burn yourself out before your daughter leaves the hospital."
I looked through the window at Sophia.
"I can sleep later."
"That is what you said in Kandahar."
"And you ignored me then too."
"Correct."
Claire glanced between us.
"Is this the part where one of you orders the other to eat?"
Marcus handed me a wrapped sandwich from his bag.
"Already covered."
For the first time in twenty-four hours, Claire smiled.
It lasted maybe two seconds.
Then her phone rang.
The caller ID showed Paul Bennett.
Sarah's ex-husband.
Claire looked at me.
"Answer it."
She put the call on speaker after telling him I was present.
Paul sounded exhausted.
"Is Lucas safe?"
"He's with Mom and Dad."
"Thank God."
"Paul, Sarah told us you were abusive and there was a restraining order."
A long silence followed.
"Of course she did."
"Was there?"
"No."
"Did you ever hurt her?"
"No."
"Did she ever accuse you formally?"
"She threatened to if I kept pushing for financial records in the custody case."
Claire sat down slowly.
"What financial records?"
"She emptied a joint account last year and blamed identity theft."
"How much?"
"Thirty-two thousand."
Claire closed her eyes.
"Did you report it?"
"Yes."
"What happened?"
"The bank reimbursed part of it, but the investigator said the login came from a device in our home."
"Sarah?"
"I could never prove it."
Paul paused.
"Then she started telling people I was controlling because I wanted separate finances."
Claire looked at me.
The pattern was becoming painfully clear.
Isolate the person who questions the story.
Make skepticism look like abuse.
Use sympathy as access.
Paul continued.
"She moved out before the court could order a forensic accounting."
"She told us you kicked her out."
"She left while I was at work."
"Why didn't you call us?"
"She said you both hated me."
Claire stared at the floor.
"I didn't hate you."
"You stopped answering my messages."
"Sarah told me they were harassment."
"I know."
Paul's voice broke slightly.
"I have been trying to get a normal weekend with my son for four months."
I asked one question.
"Mr. Bennett, did Sarah ever mention Gregory Sloane?"
Paul went silent.
"Who is asking?"
"Ethan Ward."
"Claire's husband?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Please answer only if you are comfortable, and do not discuss anything you believe is subject to privilege."
Paul breathed out.
"Greg was the guy she said ruined her career."
"How?"
"She claimed he pressured her to manipulate purchase records."
Claire leaned toward the phone.
"She told me her boss sexually harassed her."
"That was a different version."
"Did she know Greg outside work?"
"I think so."
"Why?"
"Because I saw them together at a hotel bar six months before she was fired."
Claire looked stunned.
"Were they having an affair?"
"I don't know."
Paul hesitated.
"But I found a second phone in her car afterward."
"What happened to it?"
"She smashed it in the driveway when I asked."
The pattern kept repeating.
Destroy the device.
Rewrite the event.
Attack the witness.
Before the call ended, Paul said something that made me sit straighter.
"Ethan, there is one more thing."
"Go ahead."
"Sarah used to make jokes about your Army pension."
"She still does."
"No."
His voice lowered.
"She knew you were active."
Claire stared at the phone.
"What?"
"Last winter she asked me if I knew what intelligence unit Ethan worked for."
I felt cold spread through my chest.
"Exactly when?"
"Around Christmas."
That was nine months before she moved into our house.
"What did you tell her?"
"Nothing."
"Why did she ask?"
"She said she was checking whether you had lied about being a veteran."
Paul paused.
"But she already had a printed photograph of you in uniform."
Claire whispered, "The one she texted me?"
"Maybe."
I looked at Marcus.
He was already typing.
Sarah had not discovered my rank after being arrested.
She had known before she ever asked Claire for a room.
The entire broke-veteran routine had been theater.
A performance designed to make me underestimate how much she knew.
At 4:55 p.m., Marcus received the result of the image trace.
The photograph Sarah had sent Claire came from a restricted professional association page not indexed by public search engines.
The access log showed it had been downloaded from a Halcyon Dynamics executive account.
The account belonged to Gregory Sloane.
Then a new alert appeared.
Sloane had just used a cloned credential at Fort Halden's east service gate.
May you like
The credential displayed my name.
