“Lots of people. Locals. Some not. A shitload of stuff.”
“You’ve actually seen it?”
“I’m holding it in my hand.”
“To swap for Emily.”
“If it comes to that. I don’t think it will.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means that I don’t think it will come to that.”
“No more fucking riddles, Coburn. Tell me where you are, I’ll get—”
“I emailed you the file a few minutes ago.”
“Nothing’s come in from you on my phone.”
“I didn’t send it to your regular email address. You know where to look.”
“So it’s good stuff?”
“Yes.”
“But it doesn’t ID The Bookkeeper.”
“How’d you know?”
“If it had, you’d have told me that first.”
“You’re right. We weren’t that lucky. But this will make him traceable. I’m almost positive.”
“Good work, Coburn. Now tell me—”
“No time. I’ve got to go.”
“Wait! You can’t do this without backup. You could be walking into another trap.”
“That’s a chance I gotta take.”
“No way. And I’m not going to argue with you over this. I spoke with Deputy Crawford. I think I can safely vouch for him. Call him and—”
“Not until Emily is back with Honor. Then she’ll notify the authorities.”
“You can’t confront these people alone.”
“That’s the condition of the swap.”
“That’s the condition of every swap!” Hamilton shouted. “Nobody sticks to the conditions.”
“I do. This time I do.”
“You could get that little girl killed!”
“Maybe. But it’s a sure thing she’ll die if cops and feds swarm the scene.”
“Doesn’t have to be that way. We can—”