Never know when we might need to search again. " He smiled coldly. "Shame about all the damage, but that's what happens when suspects resist. " After the police finally drove away, Angela sank down in the destroyed living room. Broken glass crunched under her feet. The house she'd worked so hard to make beautiful was in ruins. Her military honors, symbols of her service and sacrifice, lay scattered and damaged on the floor.
He's going to get away with everything, she whispered, looking at the destruction around them. The evidence, the investigation, none of it matters. Holt's showing us he can do whatever he wants. Marcus knelt beside her scattered medals, carefully gathering the symbols of her service. The Distinguished Service Medal was scratched from being kicked under the couch.
The display case lay in pieces, just like their sense of security in their own home. Angela's phone was still recording as tears finally slid down her cheeks. Everything they'd built, everything they'd tried to protect, felt shattered beyond repair. In just one night, Holt had demonstrated exactly how much power he held, and how helpless they were to stop him. Sunlight streamed through the broken blinds as Angela and Marcus surveyed their destroyed home in the harsh morning light.
The damage looked even worse than it had during the midnight raid. Shattered glass sparkled across the floor like cruel confetti. Slashed furniture stuffing drifted in the air every time they moved. We should start with the kitchen, Angela said quietly, picking up a broom. Her hands still shook slightly as she gripped the handle.
At least make it functional enough to have coffee. Marcus nodded, gathering garbage bags for the broken dishes and food containers scattered across the floor. Neither of them had slept after the raid. Dark circles shadowed their eyes, but determination kept them moving. I saved what I could of your medals, Marcus said, gesturing to the carefully arranged military honors on the coffee table.
He'd spent hours collecting every piece, treating each one with the reverence it deserved. We'll need a new display case. Angela paused her sweeping, staring at the bent and scratched medals. They didn't have to destroy everything, she whispered. This was pure spite.
A soft knock at the door made them both tense. After last night, any unexpected visitor set their nerves on edge. Marcus moved protectively toward Angela as she peered through the cracked front window. Detective Rosa Delgado stood on their porch, constantly glancing over her shoulder. She wasn't in uniform, instead wearing civilian clothes and large sunglasses despite the early hour.
Let her in, Angela said, recognizing the detective from their previous encounters at the station. Marcus opened the door cautiously, positioning himself between the detective and his wife. I'm sorry about your house, Delgado said immediately, stepping inside. What they did was wrong. But I might have something that can help.
She pulled off her sunglasses, revealing eyes filled with barely contained anger. I've been watching Holt for months, waiting for the right moment. Watching him do what? Marcus asked, still wary of any police officer. Delgado reached into her purse and withdrew a small hard drive.
Everything. I've been copying body cam footage to private storage outside the department servers. Footage that conveniently disappears from official records within hours of being uploaded. Angela moved closer, hope flickering across her exhausted face. What's on there?
Holt giving direct orders to harass homeowners who won't sell. Illegal searches. False arrests. Delgado's voice shook with controlled fury. He thinks he's untouchable because he deletes the evidence, but I've got it all, including last night's raid on your house from multiple officers' cameras.