Chapter 6

Her name was Dana. She was twenty-three and had run Celeste's night desk for fourteen months. We met at a diner off the parish highway at 7 a.m. She'd driven three hours so nobody would see her. She put a flash drive on the table next to the ketchup like it was radioactive. "Every note in the log, she dictated. Word for word. I typed them under my login." "She said, 'Under your name it's procedure. Under mine it's personal.'" I stared at the drive. "And the call?" Dana's hands shook around...