Chapter 17
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The storage unit was located in a secure, climate-controlled facility on the edge of Boulder. Liam drove my car, his eyes constantly scanning the mirrors to ensure we weren't being tailed.
I unlocked the heavy metal door of the unit, pulling the chain to turn on the single, harsh overhead light. The space was filled with boxes of Evan’s old college textbooks, winter gear, and a few pieces of antique furniture we had planned to restore.
I walked over to a plastic bin labeled 'Office Supplies' and pulled out Evan’s heavy, outdated personal laptop. It hadn't been turned on in three years.
"He never used this for Vanguard work," I explained, handing it to Liam. "He was strictly professional about keeping company data on company servers."
"Desperate men break their own rules," Liam said, setting the laptop on a sturdy wooden crate and booting it up.
The screen flickered to life, demanding a password.
"Do you know his passwords?" Liam asked.
"He changed them constantly, but he always used a variation of our wedding anniversary or Lily's birth weight," I said, typing in a few combinations. On the third try, the screen unlocked.
Liam immediately went to work, his fingers flying across the keyboard with practiced efficiency. He didn't look at the documents folder; he opened the system's root directory, running a deep diagnostic search for hidden partitions.
"Vanguard has elite cybersecurity," Liam explained, his eyes fixed on the scrolling code. "If Evan wanted to hide something, he wouldn't leave it in a folder labeled 'Bridge Data'. He would bury it."
Ten minutes passed in tense silence. Finally, Liam stopped typing.
"He didn't save the data on this hard drive," Liam announced, pointing to a log file on the screen. "But he used this laptop to copy files from a secured server onto an external USB drive on the night he died. He encrypted the USB drive with a master password."
"So the flash drive does exist," I breathed. "But where did he hide it? He died on the way home from the office."
Liam pulled Evan’s leather journal from his coat pocket and began flipping through the pages, comparing the dates to the digital log file.
"He didn't die on his normal route home, Claire," Liam said quietly, showing me the police report he had pulled up on his phone. "The crash happened on Route 9, near the old state park. Why would he be out there at midnight?"
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"He loved to hike there," I whispered, a sudden realization hitting me like a physical blow. "There’s an old hollow oak tree near the trailhead. We carved our initials into it when we were dating. He used to leave me love notes in it."
Liam closed the laptop. "Then we are going to the state park."
