Chapter 5: Midnight Archives
The municipal records office was housed in a damp, limestone-faced building downtown, smelling faintly of bleach and decades of decaying paper. Outside, a steady autumn drizzle coated the asphalt in slick black ribbons of water. Inside, Dante and I moved through the subterranean rows of filing cabinets like ghosts, guided only by the small, focused beam of a penlight in Dante's hand.
"Row twelve, section four," Dante muttered, scanning the metal tabs affixed to the drawer handles. His movements were precise, economy of motion dictating every step.
I kept my eyes on the intersecting corridor behind us, clutching the burner phone in my pocket. "If security patrols make their rounds early, we're trapped. There's only one service stairwell down here."
"Security won't be an issue," Dante replied without breaking his stride. "My associate parked a delivery van across their loading bay entrance with a broken axle. They'll be dealing with local traffic logistics for the next twenty minutes."
I looked sideways at him in the dim light, marveling at how seamlessly he orchestrated chaos. "You planned this whole thing before we even left the brownstone, didn't you?"
Dante stopped at a grey metal cabinet, pulling a slender set of lockpicks from his pocket. "I don't leave variables unaddressed, Sela. Preparation keeps people alive." With a faint click, the heavy metal drawer yielded, sliding open smoothly.
"Look for the corporate filings under 'Vanguard Hospitality LLC' dated between eighteen and twenty-four months ago," he instructed, holding the light steady while I dropped to my knees to rifle through the folders.
The damp paper felt rough beneath my bandaged fingertips. I flipped through onion-skin carbon copies and notarized signatures until my eyes caught a familiar name. "Here," I whispered, pulling a single sheet free. "Gable, Thomas. He's listed as the primary beneficiary on the secondary routing accounts."
Dante leaned down, his shoulder brushing against mine as he read the document over my shoulder. His proximity sent an unexpected shiver through me, completely disconnected from the cold air of the basement archives.
May you like
Before he could speak, a sharp, piercing alarm echoed down the concrete corridor. Red strobe lights flickered to life along the ceiling, casting frantic crimson shadows across the stacks.
"They bypassed the loading bay," Dante said, his voice dropping an octave as his hand gripped my elbow, pulling me to my feet with effortless authority. "Move. Now."
