Page 160 of Brutal

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But that doesn’t mean anything.

Not anymore.

I shift to external tracking.

Her building.

The marina.

Known routes.

Then—

Not active. But recent. Too recent.

I pull the data forward.

Routing markers. Access logs. Financial shell pings. Someone is moving through old cleanup channels. And it’s not random.

That’s not street-level.

That’s not the kind of man who runs when he’s seen.

That’s structure.

That’s planning.

That’s—

I stop the thought before it finishes.

No.

Not yet.

I dig deeper.

The pathways aren’t current.

They’re old.

Dormant accounts.

Closed loops.

Things that were used once and buried by someone who knew how to make things disappear without leaving a trace.

I know exactly one person who operates like that.

Nathaniel.

I lean back slightly, eyes still on the screen.

It doesn’t mean it’s him. It only means someone has access to his work. To the systems he built. To the way he makes things disappear.

That’s worse.

Because if it’s not him, it’s someone who understands him. Someone close enough to move through his structures without setting off alarms.

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