Far Harbor Harbor Unit, fluorescent and tired, swallows Dallas Fontaine and Murderbone in a wash of ozone and radio chatter. Jackson Temple looks up from his logs, then at the receipt on the desk, and the plate number stops him cold.
Jackson Temple
That plate is old Harbor Unit. Off-book use, if the number is right.
He flips to a fresh page, pen already moving. Murderbone plants himself near Dallas’s leg, shoulders squared toward the door.
Jackson Temple
If your daughter wrote it down, then she saw who received the handoff, or who picked it up after. Either way, that puts her in the chain.
Jackson turns the receipt under the light, then slides a patrol log across the desk. A handwritten note matches the plate number to a storm-night marine transfer near the waterfront warehouse district.
Jackson Temple
This narrows it. One dock, one unit, one night. Give me that photo, and I can start pulling names tied to the vehicle and the transfer.
✓ Quest Accepted
Identify the two men arriving at the park
✓ Quest Accepted
Trace the plate number on the receipt
“Ask Jackson if he can cross-reference the dock logs with the plate.”
SUCCESS (Good Deduction, rolled -2)
Dallas gives a small nod and taps the receipt once. Jackson catches it, already reaching for the logbook stack beside the keyboard.
Dallas Fontaine
Cross-reference the dock logs with the plate.
Jackson’s pen stops. He slides the patrol log closer and starts matching dates, vessel notes, and unit initials with quick, practiced strokes.
Jackson Temple
Yeah. If that plate touched the waterfront, it leaves a paper trail. It always does.
Murderbone shifts his weight, still guarding the doorway, while the radio chatter hisses under the fluorescent hum.
Jackson flips one page, then another, and his eyes lock on a circled entry.
Jackson Temple
There. Same plate, same night, same dock assignment. I have the owner name and the transfer tag.
He turns the page toward Dallas, finger landing on the line as the office seems to tighten around the new lead.
Quest Complete
Trace the plate number on the receipt
“I read the owner name and transfer tag”
SUCCESS (Great Perception, rolled +3)
Dallas reads the line cleanly. Owner: Jackson Temple. Transfer tag: Harbor Unit 7B, marine evidence courier. The ink is fresh over an old stamp, like somebody reopened a dead file.
Dallas Fontaine
Jackson Temple. That name is now tied to the plate.
Jackson’s finger tracks one more notation below the tag, and his jaw tightens a notch as he spots the sidelong initials.
Jackson Temple
There’s a second mark here. Not standard issue. Looks like a handoff clerk or a receiving witness signed beside it.
Murderbone lifts his head from the doorway and stares at the hallway, ears forward, as the radio spits a burst of static.
Jackson Temple
If you want the man who drove it, I can pull the vehicle sheet. If you want the person who signed this, that’s a different trail.
Jackson leaves his finger on the name, waiting for Dallas to choose which trail to follow.
“Is Jackson Temple hiding something?”
YES (Likely, rolled 59)
Jackson Temple
He is looking too closely at the ink. I should have scrubbed that signature before he ever walked through the door.
Dallas Fontaine
The way his pulse jumps in his neck when I trace the initials. He knows exactly who signed that line.
Jackson Temple
You have a sharp eye, Dallas. That second mark belongs to a man who hasn't been on the payroll for years, but he and I... we go back to the academy days. I kept his name off the official ledger to protect his pension, not to hide the transfer.
“I ask Jackson who he protected”
SUCCESS (Superb Interrogation, rolled +3)
Dallas Fontaine
Who did you protect, Jackson?
Jackson goes still. The fluorescent buzz seems louder as he looks past Dallas, not at him, toward a memory he does not like naming.
Jackson Temple
A patrolman. Eli Mercer. Bright kid, good record, bad luck. He took the fall when the transfer got messy, and I let the paperwork do the lying.
His hand slips off the logbook. The hidden initials show fully now, a second name written hard enough to press through the page.
Jackson Temple
I told myself it was mercy. It was also cowardice.
Jackson Temple
Mercer was the driver that night. He was one of the two men at the park, Dallas. I know that much.
Murderbone stays by the door, but his posture eases a fraction. Jackson reaches for the logbook as if the answer is still trapped inside it.
Jackson Temple
If you want the other name, I can give you Mercer’s old partner... but you need to tell me if you want the truth, or the version that keeps him breathing.
“I tell him I want the truth”
SUCCESS (Superb Interrogation, rolled +0)
Dallas Fontaine
I want the truth, Jackson. No trimming it down.
Jackson exhales through his nose and nods once, like the lie has finally run out of room in the office.
Jackson Temple
Fine. Mercer and I were in the same unit. He drove that night because I asked him to. We were moving evidence for a Harbor side contact, not a patrol run.
Jackson Temple
The second name on the logbook is Mercer’s partner from back then, Owen Sloane. He was the one who kept the transfer off paper.
Jackson taps the exposed initials with a blunt finger, then drags the logbook closer as if he can still protect someone by touching the page.
Jackson Temple
If those two men were at the park, it means they were not there by accident. Mercer would never go back there unless somebody called him in, or cornered him.
Murderbone lifts his head from the door and looks from Jackson to Dallas, ears forward, waiting for the next name to matter.
Jackson Temple
You have the truth now. Do you want Sloane, or do you want me to tell you why Mercer was frightened of him?
Quest Complete
Identify the two men arriving at the park
Skill Upgrade: Interrogation Superb→Legendary