Until I knew who we could trust, falsifying a report was the safest course of action for everyone involved.
Gibson and I would follow up on the rest of our to-do list after we’d left the office. Too many opportunities for prying eyes and listening ears.
The CIA didn’t bug their offices, but corrupt personnel might have bugged ours.
It sucked knowing someone in our agency had traded their patriotism for greed, but no agency was without its fair share of bad agents. People who abused their knowledge and power for personal gain.No matter the cost.
The biggest mystery was the supposed treasure the Singers had hidden away. There had to be proof of the treasure somewhere if people were still ready to kill for it twenty years later.We just have to find it.
The people after Nina weren’t interested in her. She was just a means to an end. They wanted the treasure mentioned in the video transcripts and files, and they wouldn’t hesitate to kill her after they got what they wanted.
They had to know it was a long shot. Nina was an infant the last time she saw her parents, and according to the medical examiner’s report I’d just finished reading, they’d been dead approximately twenty-two years.
They died after the Foster’s home burned down.
Shit, did they die thinking their daughter burned to death?
Maybe the two cases were connected. I made a mental note to access the police and fire reports.
What a clusterfuck. We had seemingly non-related events tied together with the flimsiest of connections and next to no evidence.
My path so far was a collection of random, unconnected circumstances that lined up perfectly if you looked at them in relation to each other.
My current investigation led me to a cold case. The cold case led me to two bodies. I’d received the lab report today confirming my suspicions; the DNA tests positively identified the bodies as Travis and Melissa Singer.
I added asking Nina for a DNA swab to my list. I had zero doubts she was the Singer’s missing child, but I’d need hard evidence for my final report.
The old CIA reports listed several theories explaining why they’d gone missing. The theories given the most credence were that they’d turned traitor and gone to work for one of our enemies, or they’d sold out, taken a huge payout and run.
Given their histories and track records, neither scenario fit.
Without hard evidence, they weren’t convicted, but the accusations lingered.
The Singers getting murdered by corrupt CIA officers covering their tracks made a hell of a lot more sense.
It still shocked me that the higher ups accepted the theories and wrote them off as missing in action, persons of interest, presumed dead. The CIA tagged the Singers as wanted for questioning. Any agency, foreign or domestic, friend or foe, would see that the minute they ran a search.
I looked at my notes.
If I can falsify a report, so can others.
History is written by the victors, a quote drilled into our heads at the Farm.
The key takeaway—victors can, and do, manipulate the truth.
What if they were investigating someone higher up the chain of command?
That’d explain the sloppy investigation work, the POI tags without solid evidence, and Gibson and I coming under surveillance after looking into the case.
I leaned back in my chair and let my mind conjure up theories. At this point, no theory would be too far-fetched.
Did someone kill Nina’s foster parents? The reports stated that the fire was accidental, not arson. But what if?
What if the person responsible for killing the Singers linked Nina to the Fosters?
What if they searched the house before setting it on fire, then paid the fire inspector to lie?
I couldn’t dismiss it outright, but it didn’t stand up to scrutiny. If the guilty party had linked Nina to the Singers, they would’ve taken her before setting the fire.
