Crystal led us to the end of the row. The unit door was the same dull gray as the others, with black numbers peeling at one corner and dust caked along the bottom seam. A cheap brass padlock hung through the latch.
Her fingers slipped under her sweater for the key.
I stepped back into the lane where I could see both the unit and the route out. “Jade, you stay with her.”
“Planning to.”
“I mean beside her, not in front of the whole world.”
“I understood the note.”
She took Crystal’s left side, close enough to move with her and far enough back to keep the lane open.
Crystal’s key scraped once before it found the lock.
The padlock opened with a small click.
No one breathed.
Then Crystal pulled the latch free and gripped the handle at the bottom of the roll-up door. It stuck halfway, metal protesting with a shriek that scraped down my spine.
I watched the lane.
The lane stayed empty.
Jade helped lift. The door rattled up the tracks and stopped above their heads.
The unit was small, maybe five by ten, with a concrete floor, two plastic storage bins, three banker boxes, a cheaprolling suitcase, and a folded card table leaned against the wall. Dust floated in the light from the lane. The place smelled like cardboard, dry concrete, and paper shut away too long.
Crystal went straight to the second banker box.
“There,” she said, kneeling.
Her hands moved fast now. She flipped the lid, pulled out a manila envelope, then another. Printed invoices. Account statements. Deposit logs clipped in small stacks. A plastic zip bag with a flash drive. A spiral notebook full of tight handwriting.
Jade crouched beside her. “Tell me what to carry.”
“Flash drive first. Notebook. Then the invoices with yellow tabs.” Crystal swallowed. “Those are Pendleton.”
The name came out quieter than the rest.
I checked the lane again.
“Pendleton Cleanout and Hauling?” I asked.
Crystal nodded. “Those are the doubled cleanouts. Emergency charges at places nobody had moved out of. Lock changes paired with deposits that went missing.”
Jade picked up the zip bag and slid it into the inside pocket of her overshirt. “This tiny thing better be worth the ulcer.”
“It is,” Crystal said.
“You say that like you don’t owe me several drinks and a vacation.”
“I owe you bail money and therapy.”
“Excellent. We’re all aiming high.”
Crystal’s hands kept moving.
