The phone rang at six in the morning.
I grabbed it before the second ring.
"Andres. Voss here. Get to the bureau. Now."
"I'm on my way."
I was dressed in three minutes. Apple in my pocket. Coffee from the lobby machine.
Siver appeared as I hit the street.
"What's the rush?"
"Maybe it's about Castell."
The bureau was already awake when I arrived.
Voss stood by the map table. Coffee in hand. Her face was hard.
Ayra walked in thirty seconds after me. Same tired eyes as yesterday. But she was moving fast.
"We found Castell's second property," Voss said. "Cabin outside the city. District 14. Registered under a fake name, but utility bills trace back to him."
She pinned a map to the board.
"Ayra, Andres, you're going out there. See what he left behind. If he's there, bring him in. Officer Drake will assist you."
I looked at Voss. "Drake?"
"Already on site. Secured the perimeter. He's waiting for you."
Ayra grabbed the keys. I followed.
The drive took forty minutes.
The city fell away. Buildings became trees. Pavement became gravel. The sun was still rising, cutting through the trees in long streaks.
Ayra drove with both hands on the wheel. Her jaw was tight.
"You okay?" I asked.
"I'm fine. Didn't sleep well."
I didn't push.
Siver appeared in the back seat.
"She's lying. Dark circles. Coffee from a shop, not her usual."
I glanced at her. He was right.
Her phone buzzed. She glanced at it, then set it down.
"Property manager," she said. "I told you to look for a tenant for my spare room. Find someone, alright? I'm not free now. Call later. Around noon."
"You rent out a room?" I asked.
"Yeah. I own two rooms in an apartment near the bureau. One I use. The other I rent out."
She shrugged.
"Tenant moved out last month. Still finding someone."
I looked out the window.
"How much?"
She glanced at me.
"Why? Your hotel not good enough?"
"I've been too busy to look for something permanent."
She didn't answer. But she didn't say no either.
We reached the cabin by seven.
The road ended in a clearing. A police cruiser was parked near the tree line. Drake stood by the front door, arms crossed.
He looked up as we got out.
"Well," he said. "The specialist returns."
"Drake."
He nodded at Ayra. "Thorne."
He unlocked the door and stepped aside.
"Place was empty when I got here. No sign of anyone. But someone's been here recently."
I walked past him into the cabin.
The cabin was small. One room. A bed in the corner. A table with a single chair. A kitchen counter with a portable stove.
Coffee cup on the counter. Still warm to the touch.
I touched the stove. The burner was hot.
"He was here," I said. "Left when he heard the car."
Drake stepped inside. "How do you know it was him?"
"Who else would be hiding in a cabin registered under a fake name?"
He shrugged. "Fair."
Ayra moved through the room. Checked the closet. Under the bed.
"Nothing."
I went to the table. A notebook lay open. Pages torn out. One page was stuck to the cover, half hidden.
I pulled it free.
Castell's handwriting. Small. Neat.
Elara Vance came to me with questions about the families. She had documents from Corvin. She said she was going to expose the Valerius archive. I told her to stop. She didn't listen.
After she died, I took her notebook. I couldn't let them find it. They would destroy everything.
I am hiding now. They know I have it. They will come.
Below, a single line:
The archive. The truth is in the Valerius archive.
I handed it to Ayra. She read it twice. Her face went pale.
"The Valerius archive," she said. "Downtown. Abandoned for years."
Drake frowned. "He's running from them. Why would he go there?"
"Because whatever Corvin gave Elara came from there," I said. "Castell wants to find it before they do."
I was about to say more when the air shifted.
Cold. Sharp.
I turned. A figure stood in the corner of the cabin.
A man. Mid-forties. Pale. Eyes wide.
He wasn't Castell.
He was dressed in old clothes. A jacket that looked like it hadn't been worn in decades. His hands were clasped in front of him.
He looked at me. Then at the notebook in Ayra's hand.
He was here. The doctor. He took something from the floorboards.
I glanced at the floor near the bed.
The man nodded.
Under there. But he took it.
Drake was watching me. "You okay?"
"Fine."
I moved to the bed. Knelt. Felt along the edge of the floorboards.
One board was loose. I pried it up.
Empty space beneath. A small box, open. Nothing inside.
But there was dust disturbed around it. Recent.
Something else. A business card, faded, half-hidden in the corner of the hollow space.
I pulled it out.
Kellan Holdings. Est. 1982.
The name meant nothing to me. I slipped it into my pocket.
"He took something," I said. "From a hiding spot under the floor."
Ayra knelt beside me. Looked at the empty box.
"More documents?"
"Or something he wanted to keep safe." I stood. "He's not just running. He's collecting evidence."
Drake looked between us. "You found that from across the room?"
"I noticed the board was loose."
He raised an eyebrow. But he didn't argue.
We searched the rest of the cabin. Found nothing else.
Drake bagged the notebook page. I took photos of the floorboard, the empty box, the tire tracks outside.
As we walked back to the cars, Drake fell into step beside me.
"You always find things that fast?"
"I pay attention."
He glanced at me. "At the airport. You saved that man's life before I even figured out what was happening."
"He was dying."
"Yeah." He stopped at his cruiser. "That's my point. You don't hesitate. You just move."
I looked at him.
He nodded slowly. "Good to have you here, specialist."
He got in his car and drove off.
Siver appeared beside me.
"He likes you."
"He tolerates me."
"That's the same thing for some people."
Ayra was already in the driver's seat. I got in.
She started the engine but didn't pull out right away.
"The archive building," she said. "It's owned by Valerius. Been empty for five years. But there's a caretaker. Someone who makes sure no one breaks in."
"Castell knows that."
"He's a medical examiner. Not a thief. He won't get past a caretaker."
I looked out the window.
"He's desperate. Desperate people find ways."
She was quiet for a moment.
"We go to the archive tonight. Before Castell gets himself killed."
I nodded.
She pulled onto the main road.
Her phone buzzed again. She glanced at it.
"Property manager," she said. "I won't pick up now."
I looked at her.
"How much is the room?"
She glanced at me. "You're still at that hotel?"
"I've been too busy to look for anything else."
"You've been eating apples and coffee for three days."
"I survive."
She shook her head.
"It's not far from the bureau. Ten minutes walking."
"I'm quiet."
"You space out at odd moments."
"I pay rent on time."
She almost smiled.
"I'll think about it."
She drove in silence for a few miles.
Then: "At the cabin. You knew exactly where to look. You found the floorboard before anyone else noticed."
I didn't answer.
"You're not going to tell me how."
"Not yet."
She gripped the wheel tighter. But she didn't push.
We reached the bureau by nine.
Ayra parked. Cut the engine.
"The archive," she said. "We go tonight. I'll call Drake. Have him meet us there."
I opened the door.
"Andres."
I turned.
She was looking at me with something I couldn't name.
"The room. If you want it, it's yours."
She got out and walked inside.
Siver appeared in the back seat.
"She's offering you a place to live. First date and now sharing rooms. It's too quick."
"I heard her. We have separate rooms. I'll pay rent."
"That's not just about rent."
I watched her disappear through the doors.
"Keep your weird thoughts to yourself. Don't get the wrong idea."
I sat in the car for a moment longer.
Then I got out and followed her inside.