Page 3 of Dane

I nodded, taking a breath as I folded my hands on the table so they wouldn’t shake. Which didn’t work, but at least it gave me something to do with them. “There are two sets of files on that drive,” I said. “The first is an exported copy of a private backup archive. Mr. Sutton keeps it on his own workstation at the bank, separate from anything IT can see or audit. It’s not part of any official system. I found it eighteen months ago, and I’ve been pulling from it since, a little at a time, careful enough that the access logs wouldn’t flag anything unusual. I hope.” I paused, knowing they probably had no idea how terrified I’d been while collecting this shit. Just talking about it made me break out in a sweat. “The second set is mine. Scans, notes, physical copies I made over the years and kept off any device that touched the bank’s network. Bank statements. Internal memos. Things I photographed on my own phone during hours I wasn’t scheduled to work.”

“Why would you have access to his private files at all?” Hannah asked. Her voice was even, curious rather than accusing, which somehow made it harder to answer than if she’d come at me hard.

“Because I never stopped working for him.” I made myself say it plainly, without the softening I wanted to give it. “After the trial, I stayed on as his assistant. Officially, that’s still my title.” I glanced at Dane, who hadn’t moved, hadn’t uncrossed his arms, hadn’t said a word since we’d sat down. “Somewhere around six years ago he started routing financial-compliance audit work through me. Small things at first, like vendor reconciliations. Then bigger stuff. He’d have me flag discrepancies, walk them through his personal review before anything went up the chain, and I’d watch him bury the ones that pointed back at him.” I was proud of the way I managed to control the trembling of my voice.

“That’s the what,” Knuckles said finally. He turned his head toward Dane. “Now. Is she a threat?”

Dane didn’t answer right away, instead he studied me for a long time. The hard expression he leveled on me reminded me of the day I had to face him while handing the jury the lie I’d been given. Yeah, he didn’t believe a Goddamned word I said. And I couldn’t really blame him.

“OK, then,” Knuckles said, since Dane clearly wasn’t going to fill the silence himself. “Why should anyone in this room believe you’re not still working for him, Ms. Sloan?”

I’d known this question would come. “You want me to prove I’m not a plant to try to trap Dane in something.” I ducked my head. “I’d be suspicious of me too, I guess.”

“You said Sutton had something over you,” Hannah interrupted. “Why don’t you tell us what that is.”

I focused on Hannah. While her smile was kind, a hardness underneath told me there was more to the woman than she appeared. “Because of what he had on me from the start,” I said. “Before the trial, Sutton falsified internal records. Access logs, override approvals, things that made it look like I’d disabled a portion of the vault’s security protocol the week of the robbery. None of it was true. I never touched that system. But he built the paper trail carefully enough that anyone doing an audit would read it exactly the way he wanted them to. Which would put me as part of a plot to rob the bank from the inside.” I curled my hands into fists and moved them to my lap. I had to remember to breathe. One slow breath at a time as I relived my life for the past twelve years. “He told me those records would go to federal investigators unless I gave the statement he’d already written for me.”

“And you gave it,” Knuckles said. Not a question.

“I gave it,” I whispered my confession. It felt like a weight off my shoulders and the pressure in my chest loosened somewhat. “After Mr. Roarke was convicted, Mr. Sutton kept the falsified records. Told me they’d stay in a drawer as long as I stayed useful. If I ever talked, if I ever tried to walk back my testimony or the narrative he’d given me about the robbery, he’d send them to the U.S. Attorney’s office himself.”

I cleared my throat before continuing. “There was a period, a few years in, where I stopped caring what happened to me. I’d started trying to document as much as I could by then. Some nights I told myself I didn’t care if he followed through on the threat. I figured, if he did and I went to prison myself, maybe it was no more than I deserved for what I’d done to Mr. Rourke. I was exhausted and just wanted it all to end.”

“What changed?” Knuckles asked.

“I guess he noticed I’d stopped being afraid of him, so he found something else to keep me in line.” My voice shook again. “My grandmother raised me. She was the only family I had left by the time all this started, and Sutton knew it. Everyone in the office did. He made it clear to me that, if I wavered and betrayed him, he’d make sure my grandmother met a horrible end.”

Nobody said anything. I was grateful for it, because I needed the quiet to get through the next part without my voice doing something I couldn’t control. “She died three weeks ago from heart failure. Nothing Sutton had a hand in, as far as I could tell. After she was gone, there wasn’t anyone left for him to threaten. So ten days ago, I copied the newest files off his private archive and got out. Everything I could reach. Everything I’d already gathered myself over the years, going back to before the trial. I put it all on that drive. Unexplained losses he’s buried in three different account categories. Shell vendors that don’t exist outside a mailing address in a strip mall off I-70. Personnel complaints he made disappear from HR before they ever reached compliance. And the original bank robbery file. The real one. Not the one he built for the courtroom. It’s all there.”

Knuckles’ gaze didn’t waver from mine, but I felt Dane’s attention land on me harder than it had all morning. I made myself keep talking instead of looking at him, because if I looked at him now I wasn’t sure I’d finish.

“I know what’s on that drive convicts me as much as it convicts Mr. Sutton. At the very least, I’m guilty of perjury. I’m not asking anyone here to protect me from that.” I finally let myself look at Dane, because this part was owed to him directly, not filtered through Knuckles or the table between us. “It’s yours,” I said, pushing the envelope with everything inside of it toward him. “All of it. Use it however you decide to use it. Give it to the FBI, give it to a reporter, burn it, I don’t care which. I’m not attaching any conditions to it, and I’m not asking for anything back. Whatever happens to me because of what’s in there is what should have happened a long time ago.”

Dane stood and turned away from the table, his jaw working as he did. When he spoke, the words came out in a low growl. “I don’t fuckin’ think so.”

I jerked in reaction to his vehement reaction. “I’m sorry?”

“No one’s going to prison,” Knuckles said. “Not Dane and not you, Brielle. Not if you’re telling the truth.”

“I brought you what I have so you can see. The numbers all match up. The bank’s own records on most of this stuff is public. You can verify the discrepancies. If I’m wrong,” I shrugged, “I’m prepared to face the consequences of my actions. I had a choice, and I chose to save my own ass rather than tell the truth.”

“Christ,” Dane muttered as he sat back down in his chair across from me. “Knuckles,” he said, turning that hard, angry gaze on the larger man. “Not fuckin’ happenin’.”

“I don’t understand,” I said, turning a confused gaze on Knuckles, then to Hannah. For some reason I trusted the other woman. She just had that look about her. Which, I wasn’t too proud to admit I was in way the hell over my head, so I could just be naive.

Hannah shook her head, but her gaze darted back to Dane. I’d offered him the only thing I had that was worth anything, and I’d expected relief from him, or at least the cold satisfaction of finally having the person responsible for putting him behind bars. Not this. Whatever this was. Obviously, he didn’t like something.

“You don’t have to understand anything.” His gaze hadn’t left mine, and there was something in them I couldn’t figure out. “And I’m not explaining.”

Knuckles cleared his throat. “Last question, Dane. What do you want done?”

Dane finally looked away from me, toward Knight. “I want Knight to verify everything on that drive. I want to know how much of what she said and what she has is true.” He paused, shaking his head slightly. “And she’s not an enemy until we know different. Somebody had eyes on her before she got anywhere near the compound. Until we know who followed her, we should treat her like she’s the one in danger.”

I hadn’t expected that. I’d braced myself for his condemnation and maybe even a whole lot worse. Instead, he’d offered a version of this narrative where I got to pay my penance and maybe find some redemption.

Knight already had his laptop open. He reached for the envelope and opened it, the drive landing with a soft clatter on the table. “You said the archive copy came straight off his workstation. Any chance he built in something that phones home if it’s opened wrong?”

“I don’t know,” I admitted. “I’m not an IT person. And, honestly, he didn’t try all that hard to hide them. But I did look at them after I pulled them, so they’ve all been opened at least once.”