"Then what are you doing?"
"Preventing routine deletion, overwriting, or alteration while the matter is reviewed."
Brett's expression hardened. "You're treating me as a suspect."
"I'm treating the records as potentially relevant."
"That distinction won't survive review."
"It will if I document it properly."
Price called the watch commander and requested preservation of specific categories of department records connected to the matter. She did not accuse Brett of altering anything; she did not name him as responsible for any data irregularity. She requested that the relevant access history, archived versions, dispatch records, and evidence management logs be retained and protected from ordinary modification until an independent review could determine whether the references were genuine.
When she finished, Brett said, "You realize she could have invented all of this?"
"Yes."
"She could have created false identifiers."
"Yes."
"She could have built the entire story around her old employment dispute."
"Yes."
Brett looked frustrated by Price's willingness to concede every possibility. "Then why are you doing this?"
"Because preservation does not require me to decide who is telling the truth tonight." Price looked at Maya. "It only requires me to recognize that if relevant records exist, I may lose the ability to examine them accurately if I do nothing."
Maya remained silent. Daniel stood near the counter, listening.
"So the recording on my phone doesn't solve anything either?"
"No," Price said. "But it may establish what Brett said when he entered this diner."
Daniel nodded.
"And Eli's statement?"
"It establishes what he personally observed."
Ruth asked, "And mine?"
"The same."
Caleb remained near his booth; Price looked at him. "And Mr. Ross's statement helps establish when he intervened, what he did, and when he stopped."
Brett said, "None of that proves I changed a record."
Price turned toward him. "No one has said it does."
"Then this entire thing is built on suspicion."
"Most investigations begin because something does not make sense."
Brett stepped closer. "You have a former employee with a grievance, a questionable card, a partial recording, and witnesses who have been sitting together all night."
Price answered, "And I have an officer who arrived at a private business looking for a specific item he would not initially identify, pressured civilians to remain without formally detaining them, attempted to recover material without first establishing a clear documented process, and then became very interested in whether official record history would be preserved."
Brett's face remained controlled. "That's interpretation."
"Some of it is." Price pointed toward her notebook. "That's why the facts are being separated from the interpretation."
Brett looked toward Maya. "What case number?"
Maya said nothing. Price looked at her. "You can answer now."
Maya hesitated, then gave Price the identifier she remembered. Price wrote it down.
Brett immediately said, "That proves nothing."
Price nodded. "Then you should have no problem with the system check."
For the first time that evening, Brett had no immediate response.
The first verification did not come from the card itself; it came from the department's own records: the case identifier existed; the archive reference existed; a prior version entry existed.
Price did not smile. She did not announce a victory. She only asked for the preservation request to be expanded to include the linked access history.
Brett watched her closely. "You still haven't proved who changed anything."
"No."
"You haven't proved I accessed it."
"No."
"You haven't proved the card came from the department."
"No." Price closed her notebook. "But now I've proved there is something in the official system worth examining."
Maya looked at the sealed envelope. The card had not established who was guilty, who was innocent, or what had happened in the old case; it had done something smaller and more important: it had shown Price where the official record had left a trail. Brett had spent the night trying to control the object; now, the object no longer mattered as much as the records it pointed toward.