“We understand that, but Jeannie saved the lives of ten people, Captain. That’s the headline here.”

“No, Lieutenant,” he said with unusual fury, “that is not the headline here. The headline is actually going to be ‘Ten people rescued when MPD decides to give a fuck about missing Black girl.’ That’s gonna be the goddamned headline.”

Sam had never seen him so pissed. “I’d like to remind you that we’re not the ones who didn’t give a fuck about the missing Black girl. We’re the ones who decided to give a fuck.”

“Try telling that to the mayor and the city council and everyone calling for my head and the chief’s head on a silver platter. How, they want to know, could we have let a case like this go unsolved for eleven years and then closed it in a matter of days, like we did the Worthington case? This has happened on our watch, and we’re responsible.”

“What’s more important?” Sam asked, her stomach cramping with anxiety as she went toe to toe with her beloved captain. “To save lives or protect our careers?”

Jeannie gasped.

“I guess we’re going to find out which is more important to the people who matter,” Malone said.

“I have to believe it’ll matter more to them that we solved these cases than it does how long it took. Nine little kids were rescued, along with Carisma. Surely that counts for something.”

“You’d better hope so,” Malone said as he stormed out, slamming the door behind him.

“Whoa,” Jeannie said. “I’ve never seen him like that.”

“Me either,” Sam said.

“What’s our plan?” Gonzo asked Sam.

“I want the reports Stahl filed on these cases when they first happened.”

“I’m way ahead of you, LT,” Gonzo said. “I pulled them first thing, and they’re some of the best fiction you’ll ever read.” He handed printouts to her and Jeannie detailing the many steps Stahl claimed he had taken to investigate the Worthington and Deasly cases. “This is what your dad and others were seeing. This is why they didn’t press him about what was being done, because to read his reports, everything was being done.”

“LaToya Deasly told me she only saw him once and then never heard from him again,” Jeannie said, scanning the report. “But he details multiple lengthy meetings with her. Where was this? I never saw anything about this in the files I had.”

“There was nothing in the Worthington files either,” Sam said.

“The reports were archived,” Gonzo said.

Sam felt a zing of electricity that went straight down her backbone. “Only captain or above can archive files.”

“Which means someone intentionally archived these reports—someone at the captain level or above,” Gonzo said.

“Is it possible to see who did it?” Sam asked, recalling when this had come up before, but fairly certain it wasn’t possible to tell.