“They didn’t even try to trace it,” Marcus said.

He slid the forged document carefully into the plastic evidence bag, peeled the backing off the red strip across the top, and sealed it shut.

“Who benefits from this paperwork?” Marcus asked.

I rubbed the brass button on my uniform cuff and looked down at the typed timeline still lying in the open black case.

“My husband,” I said.

Why did Derek need a signed parental transfer?

The question sat heavy in my throat.