On the flight, he wrote down every word he remembered from their telephone conversation. He sent Diana a factual summary and copied the neighbor videos Mrs. Martinez had already forwarded to a family group, making sure the originals remained available. He also contacted Sarah Maxwell, a military legal assistance officer who knew their family, to ask about support available to Angela as a veteran and spouse. Sarah told him exactly what she could and could not do: military legal assistance could refer him to resources, help preserve service-related records, and coordinate with their command, but a civilian attorney would need to handle the arrest and any local court proceedings.
"Understood," Marcus said. "I don't need someone to outrank the police. I need someone to make them explain themselves."
"Then start with the records," Sarah replied. "And don't let anyone tell you your wife's rights depend on what uniform you wear."
His plane landed at Reynolds Regional shortly before midnight. Marcus collected his rental car, set his bag on the back seat, and drove through quiet industrial districts toward the central precinct while speaking to Diana on a hands-free connection. She had reached the department's overnight supervisor and confirmed Angela was being held, but the arrest report had not yet been made available to her. Diana was heading toward the station herself, though she warned Marcus not to enter demanding immediate release as if he could order it.
"Ask to see her, give me the names, and let me do the arguing about the law," Diana said. "They've already shown us what happens when someone challenges Holt in public. We don't need to help him manufacture another story."
Marcus pulled into the station lot at 11:58 and stayed in the car for a full minute. He looked at the photograph of Angela on his lock screen, taken the morning they finished painting their front room, with a blue smear across her cheek and an expression of delighted exhaustion. Then he stepped into the building, introduced himself, and asked whether she was injured and when counsel could speak with her. His bearing caught the desk sergeant's attention, but it was the written request from Diana that finally persuaded the supervisor to authorize a brief conversation under ordinary visitation procedures.
Angela was standing when he reached the holding area. Her braids had loosened, the sleeve of her shirt was dirty, and a shallow scrape marked one cheek. She looked less startled than he had feared, which made the bruises around her wrists stand out more starkly. Marcus kept his hand steady as he touched hers through the bars, aware that the guard beside them was watching for any excuse to end the visit.
"Are you okay?" he asked.
"I'm not hurt badly enough to stop asking questions," Angela said. "But they're trying to turn this into something it isn't. They went into the house, Marcus. They broke the front lock."