It’s a former farm in the middle of nowhere, and it’s not like we’re storing gold bullion here. The cameras are mostly to watch the employees and guests, not the building when no one’s around.
That doesn’t make what I’m trying any less stupid. If I get caught — and since I’m a chef and not a cat burglar, there’s a decent chance that I will — I’m definitely getting fired.
I’m fine with it. Montgomery can fire me all he wants. I already cashed the check.
“Not a problem,” I say, regarding Silas, who looks like a kid in a candy shop. “What’s that on your head?”
Silas grins and points to the big black bulky thing strapped to his head.
“Night vision goggles,” he says. “I haven’t gotten to use these things in years.”
“No,” I say.
Silas crosses his arms in front of himself. Grady glances over at him, an I told you so look on his face.
“These can give us a serious tactical advantage —”
“Anyone who sees you is going to wonder why the hell you look like you’re waiting for the aliens to land,” I say.
“That’s the point,” he says, raising one eyebrow. “No one is going to see me.”
I realize that maybe I haven’t been clear about our plan tonight. I rub my hands together, looking from Grady to Silas and back, and I feel a little guilty because they’re very, very excited for a secret operation.
“This is where I work,” I explain. “I’m here at weird hours sometimes, like a few weeks ago when I had to marinate a pork shoulder for exactly —"
They’re both standing in a perfect line, feet planted shoulder-width apart, arms crossed in front of their chests. I feel like they’re about to salute me or something.
“—the why’s not really important, but the important thing is, it’s completely unsuspicious that I’m here, and it’s not even suspicious that I’ve got some people with me. So act like you’re some buddies of mine and I had to make a quick stop here to check on something, and we’re golden. Got it?”
“Got it,” Grady says.
Silas is quiet. The goggles are still on his head.
“Silas?”
“I’m telling you —”
I shove one hand through my hair. I thought he’d make things easier, not harder, because I just want to get in, find these deleted files, ruin Martin’s life, and get back out.
That’s what I need right now. I need vengeance. I want justice for Violet. I’ve seen her twice since our fight, for about one second each time, and the way she looked at me felt like it was tearing my heart out.
Even if she’s mad at me forever, I need to do this. I’m not sure it’s the nice thing my mom wants, but it’s something.
“Can you put them in a briefcase or something?” I finally ask.
“Roger that,” he says, and opens the car door again.
Five minutes later, we walk through the side door of the Bramblebush office barn. I spent some time today doing a little recon, to the best of my not-very-good ability, but I think I at least know where the cameras are.
“Okay,” I say as we walk, going over the plan one more time. “We need to get into the security office, where the camera feeds are. There are keys in the janitor’s closet, which is usually unlocked.”
Grady just sighs. Silas shakes his head.
“Do people around here not know how to lock a door?” he asks, rhetorically. “I know we think it’s safe and everything, but…”
“We’re in this whole mess because I didn’t password protect my phone,” I say.
“Eli,” Silas says, horrified.
Grady just shakes his head.
“It has a password now,” I grumble. “Anyway, we get into the security office, you get the files back, we put them on this thumb drive, we leave.”
“Do we delete the footage of us breaking into the security office?” Grady asks.
“…yes,” I say, trying to act like I’d thought of that.
“What do we do if the security guard hears something suspicious and decides to check it out?” he asks.
“You get the deleted files and I’ll distract him by talking about how perfect Pam and Jim are together,” I say. “We just need the files. That’s all I care about.”
“I care about not getting arrested,” Grady says.
“You won’t get arrested,” I say, and I’m at least eighty percent sure I’m right.
There’s no one else around right now. It’s a Thursday night in the off-season, and though there’s a small event tomorrow, it’s not the sort of thing that anyone’s staying late for. We walk through the halls without meeting another soul and get to the janitor’s closet undetected.
It’s unlocked. I open it, lean inside, reach for the key ring on the hook where I saw Hank leave them earlier today.
There’s no key ring. I frown. I lean further in, my hand scrabbling at the wall, but there’s nothing.