He was breathing heavily, the sound of rain and passing traffic loud in the background.

“Clara, you need to listen to me,” Gregory said. “Arthur knows about the coast.”

“How?” I asked.

My voice remained steady, even as my fingers tightened around the cheap plastic of the burner phone.

“He found the toll records from your rental car,” Gregory panted.

“He’s out of his mind, Clara. He thinks you took the ledger to Julian.”

“I didn’t take anything to Julian,” I said.

“It doesn’t matter what you did,” Gregory said.

“He’s coming. Or he’s sending Julian’s coordinates to the feds to clear the way. I don’t know. He’s clearing his calendar.”

I looked out the window.

The Atlantic grayed under the heavy rain, waves chewing at the rocky shore fifty yards from my cabin.

“When is he leaving?” I asked.

“Tonight,” Gregory said.

“Maybe tomorrow morning. He’s bringing the inner circle.”

“Thank you, Gregory,” I said.

“Clara, wait—”

I hung up.

I removed the battery from the burner phone and laid the two pieces on the wooden table.