“Yes.”
“Valet camera?”
“Shows you exiting the hotel.”
“Anything suspicious?”
“No.”
“Then why call police?”
Price looked toward another monitor.
“That may have been the point.”
Adrian understood.
If Maddox was part of the theft network, police intervention could move the supposed owner away from the vehicle.
An arrest would be even better.
The Bentley would remain vulnerable.
The tow could happen while everyone focused on the “suspect.”
Adrian looked toward the window.
“That’s clever.”
Price nodded.
“And ugly.”
“Both can coexist.”
Another agent entered.
“Supervisor.”
Adrian turned.
“We pulled Mercer’s call history.”
“Anything?”
“Not official records yet.”
“Public and consent-based contact data.”
“Three numbers associated with Northline employees appear repeatedly.”
Price stared.
“How repeatedly?”
“Thirty-seven calls over eight months.”
Adrian’s expression did not change.
“That could be legitimate.”
“Northline handles police impounds sometimes.”
“Exactly.”
The agent continued.
“But twelve calls happened within thirty minutes of luxury vehicle theft reports.”
Now Adrian’s expression changed.
Slightly.
“Get warrants.”
“We’re drafting.”
“No shortcuts.”
“Understood.”
Price looked toward Adrian’s cheek.
There was no injury.
Only tension.
“You okay?”
He smiled faintly.
“My window isn’t.”
“Government window.”
“Taxpayers’ window.”
“Even worse.”
He looked toward the command monitors.
“Where’s Ortega?”
“With Internal Affairs.”
“Mercer?”
“Same building, separate floor.”
“Good.”
Price hesitated.
“You think he’s involved.”
“I think he lied about knowing the hotel.”
“That’s all?”
“No.”
Adrian pulled up a screenshot.
Mercer standing beside the Bentley.
Baton in hand.
Hotel sign behind him.
“You see his shoulder patch?”
“Yes.”
“Look at the reflection in the hotel glass.”
Price zoomed in.
A man stood inside the entrance.
Burgundy security blazer.
Watching.
“Security director?”
“Assistant.”
“Maddox?”
“No.”
“Who?”
“Her boss.”
The hotel’s security director was named Patrick Doyle.
Former police officer.
Retired after twenty-two years.
Price looked at Adrian.
“You think Mercer knew him.”
“I don’t think yet.”
“Find out.”
By noon, the operation had changed from surveillance into containment.
Agents obtained emergency preservation requests.
Phones.
Hotel security logs.
Tow records.
Police dispatch history.
No arrests yet.
Adrian insisted.
One compromised operation could tempt investigators into moving too quickly.
Speed feels like control after embarrassment.