Before she left, Harris asked to speak with her briefly in the presence of his lawyer. His face was lined and tired, and he could barely look at the photograph of Thomas Maya had brought from the cabin. He described the day Thomas requested clarification about a missing evidence seal, then admitted he had declined to help because he was afraid of Reed. He also remembered being asked to support a version of Thomas's disciplinary record that omitted a crucial disagreement over access to evidence storage.
"I wasn't the one who put anything in his locker," Harris said. "I can't tell you who did. But I knew the explanation we gave his family didn't answer the questions he was asking."
Maya felt anger rise so abruptly that she had to sit on her hands. "You were a detective. You could have spoken."
"Yes," Harris said. "I could have."
She waited for him to explain why he had not, but he did not offer the pension or his family or fear as an excuse. For the first time Maya could remember, a man associated with the department admitted a failure without trying to turn it into an unfortunate misunderstanding. It was not enough to repair what had happened, but it was a beginning she had not expected.
Back in the jail, Olivia met with Price and learned that his renewed request for discovery had been resisted again. Judge Grant continued insisting that the existing schedule should move forward, even though the volume of digital evidence made meaningful preparation impossible. Price had filed a formal challenge to the bail amount and requested intervention from another court. He could not promise when either matter would be resolved.
"The state offered a reduced sentence if I plead guilty," Olivia said. "Five years."
"I know. I'm required to convey it, but I don't recommend you make a decision without reviewing the evidence and discussing the full consequences."
"I'm not pleading guilty to something I didn't do."
"Then we keep fighting," Price replied. He slid the property inventory across the table. "Your watch is where it was logged. I also have a request pending for controlled inspection, with a record of every person present."
Olivia ran her finger over the item number. She knew the small duplicate hidden with the watch could help direct Maya to the original recordings, but it would not be useful if someone handled it improperly or if defense counsel could not establish its source. She had already told Price enough to make the watch preservation a priority, and now she explained that some of her father's notes might have been retained in a protected copy associated with it. His expression grew serious.
"We'll do this carefully," he said. "No shortcuts."