I opened the car door and stepped out into the freezing air.

My boots crunched on the thin ice covering the asphalt.

The door of the sedan opened, and a figure stepped out.

It was Harrison, wearing a heavy wool coat with the collar turned up.

He looked thin, his shoulders hunched against the wind.

“Did you bring the ledger?” I asked, stopping a few feet away.

Harrison reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a small black USB drive.

“It’s all here,” he said, his voice shaking. “Every transaction, every fake authorization.”

He didn’t hand it to me.

He held it tightly between his fingers.

“I need your word, Claire,” he said, looking at me with red-rimmed eyes. “You have to clear my name with the bank.”

“I can’t promise that until I see what’s on there,” I said.

“If I give this to you, I have nothing left to negotiate with,” he said.

Before I could answer, a pair of bright headlights swept down the alleyway.

Another car was approaching fast, its tires screaming on the ice.

Harrison’s face went completely pale.