My credit.
My records.
My existence.
Suddenly I remembered strange notices I had received years earlier.
A credit card inquiry.
A tax discrepancy.
An insurance issue.
Tiny things.
Things I dismissed because I was deployed.
Things that now made terrifying sense.
The sheriff opened another folder.
His eyes widened.
Then he looked directly at me.
“Sergeant Parker.”
My throat tightened.
“Yes?”
