Chapter 3 - RAW FOOTAGE
The warrant covered the phone.
Local storage.
Specified cloud accounts tied to the device.
Messaging records connected to the suspected child-endangerment evidence.
Not Derek’s entire digital life without limitation.
Good.
Two days later, Mara called Naomi and me into a conference room.
Naomi Price had represented me since I left the Navy and began consulting on government-contract compliance.
She knew the difference between outrage and admissible evidence better than most people knew their passwords.
Mara said:
“We found twenty-seven videos that require review.”
Twenty-seven.
My stomach tightened.
“Twenty-seven incidents?”
“No.”
Important.
“Some are duplicates. Some are edited versions. Some appear benign.”
“How many children?”
“At least six recognizable minors.”
Sadie.
Owen.
Three cousins.
One neighbor child.
The videos stretched across fourteen months.
Not all were violent.
One showed Derek repeatedly taking a ball from Owen until he cried.
Cruel.
Not necessarily criminal.
One showed him spraying a nephew with a garden hose after the child asked him to stop.
Another showed Derek holding a bedroom door shut for less than a minute while Owen shouted from inside.
Potentially serious depending on context.
One showed a small cousin after her ice cream had been knocked from her hand.
Derek laughing behind the camera.
Then the more troubling clips.
A child intentionally tripped during a backyard race.
Owen shoved toward a muddy patch while Derek said:
“Again.”
A toddler’s favorite toy thrown into a shallow kiddie pool while the child cried.
Sadie’s sun hat taken and tossed over a fence.
And three raw clips where the camera began before the incident.
That mattered.
They showed preparation.
One video began with Derek telling Owen:
“Keep me in frame.”
Then Derek walked toward a nephew on a trampoline.
The clip ended before any contact.
Another began with:
“Don’t stop recording when he cries.”
My mouth went dry.
“What was he making?”
“We don’t know yet.”
“Did he post these?”
“We are investigating.”
Naomi looked at Mara.
“File metadata?”
“Several exported versions. Different dimensions. Some with embedded title slates removed from the local gallery copies.”
“Title slates?”
Mara nodded.
“Not visible on the phone gallery version you saw.”
“What titles?”
“We’re not ready to characterize.”
Frustrating.
Correct.
Then she showed us something from the pool day.
Derek’s phone had been recording before he stomped Sadie.
Owen had apparently been holding it.
But the clip angle was wrong.
Mostly grass.
Shoes.
Voices.
The stomp itself was partially visible at the top of frame.
Then my run toward Sadie.
Then Derek saying:
“What are you going to do—file Navy paperwork at me?”
Then he lunged.
Then the recording stopped when Owen ran toward me.
So the phone independently supported the event.
“Why would Derek film himself committing assault?”
I asked.
“We don’t know that he intended the final video to show it.”
Of course.
Editing.
Raw versus finished.
The local storage contained both.
Then Naomi asked:
“Any evidence he told Owen why they were recording?”
“One interview statement.”
Mara read from notes.
Owen said:
“Dad said people like seeing kids stop being babies.”
The room went quiet.
“People who?”
“Owen didn’t know.”
Then another:
“Dad said crying makes the good videos.”
I closed my eyes.
Not social media yet.
Not confirmed.
But close.
Mara continued:
“We’ve sent preservation requests to two platforms and one payment processor identified through the phone.”
Money.
“Is Derek selling these?”
“We don’t know.”
Yet.
That word.
Then she warned us:
“Do not discuss the digital evidence publicly.”
I wouldn’t.
Not because Derek deserved protection.
Because six children did.
Their worst moments did not belong to strangers.
Natalie agreed immediately.
So did the other parents once police contacted them.
The family group chat exploded anyway.
How many videos?
Who?
Was my kid in one?
Did Derek post them?
Nobody knew enough.
Rumor filled the spaces.
I sent one message:
Police are investigating. Do not circulate names, screenshots, or guesses about children. If your child spent unsupervised time with Derek and you have concerns, contact Detective Ellis directly.
Derek replied from another account before counsel apparently stopped him:
Navy Marina has declared martial law.
I stared at it.
Then deleted nothing.
Screenshots.
Original preserved.
May you like
Procedure.
The insult was starting to sound less funny now that paperwork was becoming the thing he could not intimidate.
