Ten-year-old Lily stood at the rusty gate of Kincaid Salvage in Iron Ridge, holding a piece of cardboard that read: "FOR SALE - $150 OR BEST OFFER."
With the generator humming softly and a faint warmth spreading through the trailer, Lily’s shivering began to ease. I dissolved the antibiotics in a spoonful of water and gently coaxed her to swallow. Every precious minute mattered.
“Dr. Harlan,” I murmured, my thoughts already racing ahead. “I need to get to Dr. Harlan.”
Jesse nodded, understanding. “He’s three miles east of the old quarry, past the contaminated zone. Runs his clinic out of a renovated bus. He won’t take anything but cash. Thirty-eight thousand is his rate.”
I knew his reputation. A brilliant, disgraced surgeon who worked exclusively off the grid, demanding payment in untraceable currency. He wouldn’t care about Kincaid’s threats or the yard’s rules. Only money.
“I don’t have cash, Jesse,” I said, my voice tight. “But I have something else. Something he can use.”
I pulled out the genuine bank record from under the floorboards. The paper was still crisp, though aged. Jesse looked at it, then at me, a question in his eyes.
“This document,” I explained, running a finger over Kincaid’s signature, “details Kincaid’s untaxed offshore wires. Years of illegal salvage. If Dr. Harlan has it, he can use it as leverage. Absolute leverage.”
Jesse’s eyes widened slightly. “Leverage for what?”
“For his own problems,” I said, a grim smile touching my lips. “He lost his license. Got buried in legal fees and medical debts. This document, proving Kincaid’s vast, undeclared income and illegal operations, is a golden ticket for Harlan. He can use it to clean his name, or at least his financial slate, by exposing Kincaid to the right authorities, or perhaps even using it to blackmail his way out of his own debts.”
Jesse considered it, his gaze fixed on the paper. “He’s ruthless. But he understands a good deal.”
I took a deep breath. This was a gamble, but Lily’s life hung in the balance. “I need you to get a message to him. Tell him I have irrefutable proof of Kincaid’s entire black-market operation. Enough to bring down the whole salvage yard and every illegal connection Kincaid has. Tell him it’s a trade. The document, for Lily’s plasma treatment. Tonight.”
Jesse nodded, his expression grim. “He’s paranoid. He’ll want proof of the document, but he won’t risk coming near Kincaid’s territory.”
“Tell him to meet me at the edge of the salvage dump,” I instructed, my plan forming with desperate clarity. “Where the old rail tracks vanish into the woods. At 2:00 AM. It’ll be quiet then. Kincaid won’t expect it.”
“He’ll agree if it means clearing his own name,” Jesse decided. “He hates being indebted.”
He stood up, his jaw set. “I’ll go now. I know a way out of the yard Kincaid doesn’t watch as closely.”
“Be careful,” I said, a wave of apprehension washing over me. “Kincaid is looking for any sign of betrayal.”
Jesse gave a curt nod. “I know. But after what I saw tonight… Mateo deserves justice. Lily deserves a chance.”
He slipped out into the biting cold, melting into the shadows. I watched him go, then turned back to Lily. Two A.M. It was less than three hours away. A slim hope, but it was all we had.
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