Chapter 7: Dayton
They left at nine, after Leo was asleep.
Ruby sat in the passenger seat of a car that cost more than her annual salary and watched the city lights thin out as they hit the highway.
Vincent drove without music.
The silence between them wasn't uncomfortable — it had weight, but not the wrong kind.
"How long have you had the unit?" he asked after twenty minutes.
"Six years.
I pay it annually under a different name.
A third name." She watched the dark fields pass.
"I was careful."
"You were," he said.
"Most people aren't."
"Is that a compliment?"
"It's an observation."
She almost smiled.
The storage facility was outside Dayton proper — a low, flat complex behind a gas station, the kind of place that asked no questions as long as the payment cleared.
Ruby used a key she kept on a ring with nothing else attached to it.
The unit was small.
A single shelf, a plastic bin, a padlocked box inside the bin.
She opened it.
The drive was smaller than a thumb.
Matte black, no label.
She held it out to Vincent.
He looked at it but didn't take it immediately.
"You carried this for seven years," he said.
"Yes."
"And never used it."
"No."
"Why not?
It could have bought you a lot of safety."
Ruby turned the drive over in her fingers.
"Because using it meant becoming someone who uses things like this.
I didn't want to be that person." She paused.
"I already came close enough."
He took the drive.
Held it carefully.
"My contact's name is Brennan," he said.
"Federal.
He's been building a case on Hale's financial network for eighteen months.
What's on this drive — if it's what you say — fills the gap he's been missing."
"It's what I say."
"Then by morning, Marcus Hale has a much larger problem than you."
They locked the unit and walked back to the car.
The night was cold and very still.
Ruby stopped at the passenger door.
"Vincent."
He looked at her over the roof of the car.
"Why are you doing this?" she asked.
"You could have handed me to him.
It would have solved your problem cleanly."
He was quiet for a moment.
"Leo ate breakfast," he said.
"He played trains.
He laughed today — actually laughed — for the first time since Elena d\*ed." He looked at her steadily.
"You did that.
In ten days."
"That's not a reason to risk your organization."
"No," he agreed.
"But it's a reason to risk myself."
She didn't have an answer for that.
She got in the car.
On the drive back, her phone buzzed.
Unknown number.
She showed it to Vincent without answering.
He glanced at it.
"Don't."
It buzzed again.
Then a third time.
Then it stopped.
A moment later, a text arrived.
She read it.
Her face went still.
"What does it say?" Vincent asked.
She turned the screen toward him.
*Clock started early.
May you like
Check on the boy.*
Vincent's foot hit the accelerator.
