(Hailey Miller's POV)
Liam’s decision hung in the cold air of the warehouse like a dare. The fluorescent lights buzzed above us, casting the maps in a clinical blue; we were no longer prey, but hunters threading a trap. A trap for an animal like The Accountant demanded flawless bait and an escape route with no loose ends.
Neri spread the digital maps across a metal table, the glow from his tablet painting his cheekbones. The air smelled faintly of oil and old paper. “If we’re going to leak parts of the diary, we need an intermediary,” he said, tapping a route that blinked on the screen.
“Someone with credibility but discreet enough not to set off the Accountant’s network all at once.”
“A journalist,” Costa offered, shoulders hunched under his jacket. “One who specializes in exposing c
