Daniel did not love people.
He acquired them.
He displayed them.
And when they became inconvenient, he denied they had ever existed.
Investigator Haines placed a tablet on the table. “Do you recognize this account?”
Daniel glanced down.
“No.”
“Strange,” Haines said. “It was opened using your Social Security number and a military identification scan.”
“I said I don’t recognize it.”
Marlowe’s tone remained calm. “Funds from the Veterans Relief Foundation were transferred into that account in twelve separate payments, then moved through businesses registered under names connected to your former aide, Lieutenant Patrick Sloane.”
At the mention of that name, Daniel’s jaw tightened.
It was small.
Almost invisible.
But I saw it.
So did Marlowe.
“Patrick Sloane?” Daniel’s father repeated. “The young man who used to come here for Thanksgiving?”
No one answered.
Daniel’s uncle stood up next. “This has to be some kind of mistake. Daniel is decorated. He served three tours.”
