Chapter 5 - The Coin on the Table
I had never hated a piece of metal before.
But staring at Brant's command coin beside Daniel Mercer's hospital bed, I felt something close to hatred.
Not because of the coin itself.
Because of what it might represent.
A reward?
A warning?
An attempt to buy silence?
I couldn't know.
And I had already learned how dangerous it was to confuse suspicion with proof.
“Who took the photograph?” I asked.
Price locked his phone.
“I did.”
“Why?”
“Because something about that visit bothered me.”
“What visit?”
“Brant came to see Mercer the morning after the incident.”
“Was Mercer awake?”
“Yes.”
“Did they talk?”
“Privately.”
I folded my arms.
“Then what happened?”
“Mercer requested a transfer.”
I stared at him.
“A transfer?”
“Medical reassignment first. Then he asked to be moved away from the unit.”
“Where?”
“Erin, I can't give you his personal information.”
“I'm not asking you to violate his privacy. I'm asking whether he's safe.”
Price looked tired.
“I don't know.”
I took a breath.
“Will you give that photograph to investigators?”
He hesitated.
Then nodded.
“If it's requested through the proper process.”
“Will you tell them what you told me?”
His answer came more slowly.
“Yes.”
I studied him.
“Even if Brant finds out?”
Price stared at the parking lot.
“He's going to find out eventually.”
That was the first honest thing I'd heard him say without hesitation.
At 0900, I went to the installation legal assistance office.
The attorney I met, Captain Rebecca Shaw, listened without interrupting while I explained Nathan's phone, the conflicting times, the route change, and the existence of Daniel Mercer.
She was in her early thirties, with dark hair pulled into a neat bun and the steady expression of someone accustomed to hearing difficult things.
When I finished, she folded her hands.
“Corporal Walsh, I need to clarify something.”
“Yes, ma'am.”
“I'm not acting as your defense counsel, and I can't personally investigate a death. But I can explain your reporting options and help you identify the appropriate channels.”
“I understand.”
“Have you submitted a written complaint?”
“Yes.”
“To whom?”
“My immediate chain of command.”
“And Major Brant is part of that chain?”
“Yes.”
She wrote something down.
“Have you received a response?”
“They told me the incident was already reviewed.”
“Did they provide a written disposition?”
“No, ma'am.”
Shaw nodded.
“You may have grounds to request review outside the immediate command. You can also provide information to the Naval Criminal Investigative Service if you believe the death involved criminal misconduct.”
“Do you think it did?”
She looked at me carefully.
“I don't have enough information to answer that.”
I appreciated the honesty.
Then she asked a question that changed everything.
“Has anyone ordered you to surrender Nathan's phone?”
“Not yet.”
“Has anyone threatened adverse action because you requested a review?”
I thought about Brant's remarks at the funeral.
The warning.
The growing hostility.
The sudden accusation that I'd falsified records.
“Yes.”
Shaw stopped writing.
“Tell me exactly what happened.”
I did.
When I finished, she said, “Document every incident. Dates, witnesses, exact language when you remember it. Keep the original evidence intact.”
“Will that protect me?”
She didn't pretend.
“It may help establish what happened. It doesn't guarantee people will behave properly.”
I looked at my hands.
“I'm scared, ma'am.”
Shaw's expression softened.
“That doesn't make your concerns less legitimate.”
I swallowed.
“I don't want to destroy anyone's career because I'm grieving.”
“Then focus on what you can verify.”
I nodded.
She slid a sheet of paper across the desk.
It listed reporting channels and contact information.
“Use the facts,” she said. “Let the investigation determine what those facts mean.”
I folded the paper and placed it in my pocket.
For the first time since Nathan died, I felt like I had a direction.
Then my phone vibrated.
A message from an unfamiliar number.
Corporal Walsh, this is Daniel Mercer. Please stop looking for me.
A second message followed.
I watched your fiancé die.
May you like
And then a third.
The official report is wrong about what happened afterward.
