The Year I Stopped Being His novel Chapter 381

"I came about Quinn's case."

Garrison stared at the envelope but didn't reach for it.

Wyatt opened it for him. Inside was a stack of photos and a stapled report. The first photo showed a chalk outline of a body on the grass. Garrison instantly recognized the spot—right in front of the bench in the garden, the shadow of the sycamore tree cutting across the top half of the outline.

"Autopsy report," Wyatt said, tapping the first page. "Quinn didn't commit suicide. She was shot."

He flipped to the second page, pointing to a close-up photo. It showed a bullet hole with clean edges, ringed by a dark burn mark.

"One bullet, entered through the back, exited through the chest. 9mm, killed instantly. The trajectory was top-down, entering at an angle of roughly thirty degrees."

"The shooter had the high ground. Could have been standing on the wall, or somewhere elevated." Wyatt flipped the photo over and closed the file. "It's a professional job. Not your run-of-the-mill killer—smacks of an organized hit."

Garrison remained silent for a long moment.

Moonlight spilled through the window, resting on the untouched glass of tea on the table. The leaves had fully unspooled, sinking to the bottom, turning the water from a pale yellow to a murky brown.

He looked up and met Wyatt's eyes.

"Have you investigated Deep Blue?"

Wyatt didn't answer immediately.

"She stole my Vitas Strain right before she died," Garrison stated, his voice completely level, as if recounting something that had nothing to do with him. "Could Deep Blue have silenced her to tie up loose ends?"

He sank back into the sofa, the old springs groaning under his weight.

"It's the exact same MO as five years ago—when your lab was broken into, and your son was kidnapped."

Garrison's hand tightened around his cup.

"We suspect," Wyatt lowered his voice, locking eyes with him, "that someone deliberately wiped the evidence. And whoever did it had access to police databases, commercial security servers, and every traffic camera in the city—"

He paused.

"It's highly likely... it's an inside job."