Twenty-six.
Recently hired.
He had spent most of the afternoon uneasy.
Finally he asked:
“Mrs. Crowley, do we actually have a court order?”
Marissa snapped toward him.
“We have legal authority.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
Trent glared.
“Evan.”
“I’m asking.”
Marissa said:
“Gareth is finalizing the filing.”
Duncan’s eyes shifted toward her.
There it was.
Finalizing.
Not finalized.
Not filed.
Not granted.
Finalizing.
Duncan said nothing.
Marissa noticed.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“Don’t look at me like that.”
“I’m sitting in my own warehouse with restraints on my wrists. I can look wherever I want.”
Trent began searching Duncan’s jacket.
Wallet.
Keys.
Pen.
Small notebook.
Then he found a slim black leather credential case.
He opened it.
Everything stopped.
Badge.
Identification.
UNITED STATES MARSHALS SERVICE.
SUPERVISORY DEPUTY U.S. MARSHAL.
DUNCAN VALE.
Trent stared.
Then laughed.
It was nervous laughter.
“What is this?”
Duncan’s expression changed for the first time.
“Put it down.”
Marissa took two steps closer.
“What?”
Trent held up the credential.
“He’s pretending to be federal.”
Duncan said again:
“Put it down.”
Marissa stared at the badge.
For a rational person, that would have been the moment to stop everything.
Release Duncan.
Return the credential.
Call counsel.
Call local police.
Preserve the scene.
Marissa was not thinking rationally anymore.
She had spent months constructing a story in which Duncan was the obstacle and she was the authority.
Accepting that his credential was real would invert the room.
So she rejected it.
“This is fake.”
Duncan looked at her.
“It isn’t.”
“You expect us to believe a warehouse owner is some kind of federal marshal?”
“I don’t particularly care what you believe.”
Trent flipped the case over.
A contact card sat behind the identification.
Regional U.S. Marshals office.
Direct operations number.
Trent smiled.
“I’ll verify it.”
Duncan sighed.
“That is an excellent idea.”
Trent dialed.
A duty officer answered.
“U.S. Marshals Service.”
Trent straightened.
“Yes, I’m with private security. We’ve detained a man who is claiming to be one of your officers.”
“Name?”
“Duncan Vale.”
Silence.
The duty officer said:
“Spell the last name.”
Trent did.
Another pause.
“Where are you?”
Trent gave the address.