“Okay,” I say to Jake. “Save it, but…I don’t want to watch it.”
“Okay.” He nods. He creates a new folder and names itEvidence—Nonviewed.
“You’re in control,” he reiterates. “Anything you want to do with this, we do.”
He quarantines the drive and encrypts our copy.
After that, the work accelerates.
On day four, the dossier starts to look serious. Jake builds a timeline that runs alongside my memory—two lines that finally match. I point at a clip and name the man who walks in with his shoulders too square, his hair too neat. Not a biker. Billy called him a staffer. I point at another and tell Jake what it meant when Billy used a certain phrase. Jake cross-references quickly, starting to see the patterns himself. To put things together.
By day five, the archive becomes a single object. Index, glossary, time-stamped clips, ledger matches, email headers, invoice metadata, and footage. So much footage.
Jake leans back in his chair and rubs a hand over his face.
“This holds,” he says.
There’s a knock on the door. “Dinner,” says Ryder.
Jake calls back, “Two minutes.”
“Needs a better name than this,” Jake says, pointing to the file name:Silas.
“Yep.” I stare at the screen, thinking. “Names matter. Names are ownership. And Silas already owned too much.”
All those clips he saved, the lists and notes Billy left lying around for me to see, the meetings he took me to, the little phrases meant to keep everything invisible.
They thought they were safe.
Billy thought he was untouchable because he had Hargrove in his pocket. Hargrove thought he was untouchable because hehad Billy doing the dirty work. Silas thought he was untouchable because he had proof and records.
But they’re not safe at all. Billy and Silas are dead, and Hargrove’s power won’t protect him. We have the upper hand.
He has the hand you don’t want to be holding when someone finally walks in behind you.
I look at Jake. “How about Dead Man’s Hand?”
His face breaks into a wide smile. “Ha!” He laughs. “That’s perfect. And Wyatt will love it. He’ll be insufferable over it.”
His fingers move over the keys, and he types it in:DEAD_MANS_HAND.
“I bet you taste like fury,”Hargrove had said to me once.“You think I don’t see it? That need to be ruined? I want to be the reason you never look at yourself the same again.”
I look at the file we built, at Jake’s pride as he hits save, and I know that I helped turn Hargrove’s secrets into a blade.
So yeah, I won’t look at myself the same again, I guess, now that I know who I am.
I’m the girl you can’t ruin.
CHAPTER TWENTY
RYDER
Nothing is happening, the house is quiet, and the waiting is making my skin itch.
An hour after Jake sent the package I heard from Keystone.Physical handoff required.
I didn’t ask why. I don’t need the explanation. People who ask for physical handoffs in this day and age either don’t trust the digital trail, or they do and they’re trying to control it. Probably both.
