One evening, the tone shifted. Adam said, “I’ve got a driver job tonight. Just a run. In, out, nothing crazy.” Vance felt every muscle tighten. The word “driver” sounded like every bad decision he’d ever documented. “Who for?” he asked. Adam replied, “Just a guy around my age.”
“Name?” Vance pressed. Adam shook his head. “Doesn’t matter. You don’t know him.” That alone told Vance enough. “If you can’t tell me his name, he’s not worth trusting,” Vance said. Adam stared back. “You don’t trust anyone who isn’t wearing your badge.”