Chapter 4: Morning Whispers (Lauren POV)

The walk to the parking garage felt like a perp walk. Every step echoed off the concrete walls, each sound a reminder that I was leaving this building as damaged goods. My badge and weapon were gone, tucked away in Rodriguez's desk drawer like evidence from a crime scene.

The elevator hummed as it carried me down to the basement level where I'd parked. When the doors opened, I heard voices echoing from the shift change area near the garage entrance.

"...heard James finally cracked..."

"...seeing things that aren't there..."

"...always knew she was wound too tight..."

I pressed my back against the elevator wall, my finger hovering over the door close button. But running away wouldn't change anything. In seven days, I'd either vindicate myself or confirm every whispered doubt they'd ever had about me.

The voices grew clearer as I stepped out.

"Martinez, you hear about James?" Detective Thompson's nasal tone carried easily in the enclosed space.

"Yeah, Rodriguez called me in early to cover her cases. Something about psychiatric evaluation." Detective Martinez sounded tired, probably pulling a double shift. "What happened exactly?"

"She was in the evidence room last night, claiming she saw invisible thieves stealing her evidence. Henderson found her waving her gun around, talking to empty air."

My hands clenched into fists. That wasn't what happened. Alex knew that wasn't what happened.

"Jesus. Poor woman's been working herself to death on that Valdez case."

"Five years of chasing one perp will do that to you. I heard she hasn't taken a vacation day in eighteen months."

Their conversation faded as they moved toward the stairwell. I waited in the shadows by my car, keys trembling in my hand. Eighteen months without vacation. When had I become that person?

Footsteps approached from the direction of the stairwell. I ducked behind a support pillar, feeling ridiculous but unable to face another pitying look or whispered comment.

"Lauren?"

Alex's voice made me freeze. Of course he'd come looking for me.

"I saw your car was still here." His footsteps stopped on the other side of the pillar. "Are you okay?"

"Define okay." I stepped out, meeting his concerned gaze. In the harsh fluorescent lighting, he looked younger than his thirty-two years, almost vulnerable. "My career just imploded, everyone thinks I'm crazy, and my five-year case is about to walk free. So no, Alex, I'm not okay."

He moved closer, his hands shoved deep in his pockets. "Look, I know how this looks, but Rodriguez is right about one thing. You've been under enormous pressure. Maybe taking some time off..."

"You think I'm losing my mind too."

"I think you're exhausted. I think you've been carrying the weight of this case for so long that you're seeing patterns that might not be there."

The words stung because part of me wondered if he was right. What if I was having a breakdown? What if the stress had finally gotten to me?

But I remembered the dark figure on the security footage, the way it moved through the evidence room like smoke. That wasn't stress or exhaustion. That was real.

"Alex, when you found me in the evidence room, did you really not see anything? Not even movement in your peripheral vision?"

He was quiet for a long moment, studying my face. "Lauren, I wish I could tell you what you want to hear. But there was nothing there except you."

"And my evidence just vanished into thin air?"

"Evidence goes missing sometimes. Corrupt cops, administrative errors, chain of custody problems. It happens more than we like to admit."

"Not like this. Not from a locked room with no signs of forced entry."

Alex stepped closer until I could smell his cologne, something expensive and subtle. "What if I help you?"

I blinked. "What?"

"Your week of investigation. What if I help you during my off hours? Two people can cover more ground than one."

"Why would you do that? Everyone else thinks I'm having a breakdown."

"Because..." He paused, running a hand through his dark hair. "Because I've seen some strange things in my career too. Things that don't make sense in the normal world. Maybe there's more to this than stress-induced hallucinations."

Hope flared in my chest, dangerous and desperate. "You believe me?"

"I believe you saw something that night. Whether it was what you think it was, I don't know. But I've learned not to dismiss things just because they don't fit into neat categories."

I studied his face, looking for any sign of deception. Alex had been nothing but professional and supportive since his assignment to our unit. If he was lying, he was the best actor I'd ever met.

"What kind of strange things?"

"My family has some... old-world beliefs. Stories passed down through generations about things that exist just outside normal perception. I used to think they were just folklore, but after some of the cases I've worked..."

He trailed off, shaking his head.

"Tell me."

"Not here. Too many ears." He glanced toward the stairwell where more voices were echoing down. "Meet me tonight. Millennium Park, by the Bean. Nine o'clock."

"Alex..."

"Lauren, if you're right about this, if there really are things happening that operate outside normal investigation, then you're going to need someone who understands that world. Someone who can help you navigate it."

The shift change crowd was getting louder, more voices joining the morning gossip session. Soon they'd migrate to the parking garage, and I'd have to endure more stares and whispered comments.

"Okay," I said. "Nine o'clock."

"Good." Alex smiled, and for the first time since this nightmare began, I felt like I wasn't completely alone. "Go home. Get some sleep. Tonight we start figuring out what really happened to your evidence."