Chapter 2 - LILY’S FATHER HAD SEEN SOMETHING AT THE FREIGHT YARD HE WAS NEVER SUPPOSED TO SEE
Norah set down the tray of clean glasses.
“What did your father say?”
Lily looked toward Leo Grant’s office.
The manager was pretending not to watch them.
That meant he was listening.
“Can we go somewhere else?”
Norah’s stomach tightened.
They stepped into the narrow service corridor behind the wine storage room.
Lily lowered her voice.
“My dad’s name is Patrick Parker.”
“I know.”
“You do?”
“You’ve mentioned him.”
Lily nodded quickly.
“He’s a night dispatcher at Lakefront Mercer Freight.”
Norah became still.
Mercer.
Dominic’s company.
“My dad said when I told him what happened with Valerie, he stopped laughing.”
“What was funny?”
“At first he thought I was exaggerating.”
Lily twisted the paper coffee sleeve between her fingers.
“Then I told him Dominic defended you.”
“And?”
“He said, ‘That means something’s already wrong.’”
Norah frowned.
“What does that mean?”
“I don’t know.”
“What exactly did he say?”
Lily looked frightened now.
“He said Dominic Mercer doesn’t embarrass Valerie Whitmore in public unless he’s either done with her or testing who reacts.”
Norah almost laughed.
“That sounds dramatic.”
“My dad works nights around men who carry guns.”
“His definition of dramatic may be different.”
Fair.
Lily continued.
“Then he asked me if Valerie was wearing a white coat.”
Norah remembered.
Cashmere.
Red wine stain.
“Yes.”
Lily swallowed.
“He asked if she had a black leather folder with her.”
Norah’s mind moved backward.
Dinner.
Wine.
Valerie shouting.
Dominic watching.
There had been a folder on the empty chair beside Valerie.
Black leather.
Gold clasp.
“I think so.”
Lily’s eyes widened.
“My dad said if I ever saw that folder again, I should leave.”
That stopped Norah.
“Why?”
“He wouldn’t tell me.”
“Then why are you telling me?”
Lily’s lower lip trembled.
“Because he didn’t come home last night.”
Norah stared.
“What?”
“He works ten p.m. to six.”
“He texted me around midnight.”
“What did he say?”
Lily unlocked her phone.
Working late. Stay with Aunt Denise tonight. Don’t come to the yard.
Nothing else.
“Did you call him?”
“Twenty times.”
“Your aunt?”
“She called too.”
“Police?”
Lily shook her head.
“My dad told me years ago that if anything happened around the yard, I should never call local police until I talked to his union rep.”
Norah stared.
“That is not comforting.”
“I know.”
Lily started crying.
“His car is still at the freight yard.”
Norah looked toward the restaurant floor.
The sensible choice was obvious.
Not my problem.
She had eighty-seven dollars before payday.
A rent increase.
No powerful family.
No attorney.
No security.
She was a waitress.
Not an investigator.
Not a hero.
Then she remembered Lily’s knees beginning to bend.
Damn it.
“Who’s your aunt?”
“Denise Parker.”
“Call her.”
Lily did.
Denise answered immediately.
Norah took the phone only after Lily explained.
“Mrs. Parker?”
“Denise.”
Her voice shook.
“My brother is missing.”
“Have you contacted his employer?”
“They said he clocked in.”
“Clocked out?”
“No.”
“Security video?”
“They won’t tell me.”
Norah looked toward the private dining room.
Two weeks earlier, Dominic Mercer had sat there.
Tonight, empty.
“Do you know anyone at Mercer Freight?”
Denise went silent.
Then:
“Patrick said if something happened, I should contact a man named Frankie.”
“Last name?”
“He didn’t say.”
Of course.
Norah handed the phone back.
Then looked at Lily.
“Go home.”
“What?”
“To your aunt.”
“I’m scheduled until eleven.”
“Leo can survive.”
“I need the hours.”
That sentence.
Needed the job.
Norah hated it.
She went directly to Leo.
“Lily has a family emergency.”
Leo frowned.
“We’re short.”
“Her father is missing.”
His expression changed.
Then flattened again when he realized customers were watching.
“She can leave after the dinner rush.”
“No.”
Leo stared.
Norah stared back.
Two weeks ago, that would have scared her.
Now it only made her tired.
“You want to fire me?”
“No.”
“Then I’m taking her home.”
“You cannot just decide—”
“Apparently I can.”
Leo lowered his voice.
“Do you think because Mercer said one thing to Valerie, you’re protected?”
Norah became still.
“That’s an interesting sentence.”
Leo’s face changed.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
Norah removed her apron.
“I’ll be back tomorrow if I still have a job.”
Then she and Lily walked out.
Rain had turned into wet snow.
Lily’s apartment was twenty minutes west.
Denise met them downstairs.
She was forty-something, wearing medical scrubs and an expression people wear when they are trying not to frighten a child.
Lily was nineteen.
Tonight she looked twelve.
Norah stayed because Denise asked.
At 10:41 p.m., someone knocked.
Three hard knocks.
Denise froze.
Lily grabbed Norah’s arm.
A man’s voice came through the door.
“Patrick sent me.”
Norah did not move.
“Name?”
Silence.
Then:
“Frankie DeLuca.”
Denise looked at Norah.
The name meant nothing to her.
But Lily whispered:
“That’s Frankie.”
Norah opened the door only after Denise checked through the peephole.
The man outside was in his late forties.
Heavy coat.
Scar near his jaw.
He looked like someone who had spent his life learning how to enter rooms without asking.
He kept both hands visible.
“Patrick’s alive.”
Lily nearly collapsed.
“Where?”
“Hospital.”
She covered her mouth.
Frankie continued.
“Concussion.”
“Broken ribs.”
“Nothing life-threatening.”
“Why didn’t anyone call?”
“He had no phone.”
“What happened?”
Frankie looked at Norah.
“Who are you?”
“Norah Bennett.”
Recognition.
That bothered her.
“The waitress.”
“Apparently.”
Frankie almost smiled.
Then stopped.
“Patrick asked for her.”
Norah stared.
“Me?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“He said you stood up to Valerie.”
“That doesn’t qualify me for anything.”
“No.”
Frankie’s expression became serious.
“But he said it told him who you weren’t.”
“What does that mean?”
“He said you weren’t bought.”
Norah felt cold.
“I don’t even know what’s happening.”
“You shouldn’t.”
“Excellent.”
Frankie looked toward Lily.
“Your father saw a shipment manifest he wasn’t supposed to see.”
“What shipment?”
“I don’t know.”
“That’s a lie.”
Frankie looked back at Norah.
She crossed her arms.
“You people are all terrible at pretending not to know things.”
He almost laughed.
“Dominic wants to talk to Patrick first.”
Lily’s face hardened.
“My dad works for him.”
“Yes.”
“Then why was he beaten inside his yard?”
Frankie had no answer.
That was the worst answer.
Norah said:
“We’re going to the hospital.”
Frankie shook his head.
“Not yet.”
Norah stared.
“Excuse me?”
“Someone may be watching.”
“You’re telling a nineteen-year-old she can’t see her injured father?”
“I’m telling her I’m trying to keep him alive.”
Lily started crying.
Norah stepped between them.
“You need a better plan.”
Frankie’s expression changed.
“Ms. Bennett—”
“No.”
She almost laughed at herself.
Apparently no had become her entire personality.
“If Patrick is alive, Lily gets confirmation.”
“Video.”
“Doctor.”
“Something.”
“You do not walk into her home in a black coat and expect blind obedience because you say Dominic Mercer’s name.”
Frankie studied her.
Then took out his phone.
He made a call.
“Put Patrick on video.”
Thirty seconds later, Lily saw her father.
Bruised.
Hospital gown.
Alive.
She sobbed.
Patrick smiled weakly through the screen.
“Hey, bug.”
“Dad.”
“I’m okay.”
“You’re not okay.”
“No.”
“But I’m alive.”
Then his eyes shifted.
“Norah there?”
She leaned into frame.
“Unfortunately.”
Patrick laughed, then winced.
“Good.”
“Why me?”
His face became serious.
“Because I need to tell Mercer something.”
“Then tell him.”
“I don’t know who around him I can trust.”
Norah looked at Frankie.
He did not seem offended.
Patrick continued.
“But I know one thing.”
“What?”
“Valerie Whitmore knows exactly what’s moving through Yard Nine.”
Frankie became completely still.
Norah noticed.
Patrick kept going.
“And somebody inside Mercer’s office has been changing manifests after trucks leave.”
“What’s in the trucks?”
Norah asked.
Patrick swallowed.
“Money.”
“That isn’t freight.”
“No.”
“Whose?”
Patrick looked directly into the camera.
“That’s what they beat me for asking.”
Then the screen went black.
Frankie lowered the phone.
Nobody spoke.
Norah looked at him.
“You knew about Yard Nine.”
Frankie’s jaw tightened.
“Yes.”
“What is it?”
“A bonded warehouse Dominic inherited from his father.”
“And?”
“Dominic ordered it cleaned up two years ago.”
“Meaning?”
Frankie looked toward Lily.
Then Denise.
Then Norah.
“Meaning certain people apparently decided not to listen.”
Norah exhaled.
“Why does Patrick trust me?”
Frankie answered:
“Because three weeks ago, somebody offered him fifty thousand dollars to stop logging after-hours truck changes.”
“Who?”
“He refused.”
“Then he saw you refuse Valerie in public for free.”
Norah went quiet.
Frankie continued.
“Patrick thinks people show themselves when saying no costs something.”
Her mother had taught her that.
Not with words.
With red marks around her wrists.
“What did he find?”
Frankie looked at the closed phone.
“A handwritten number on the altered manifest.”
“What number?”
“Table six.”
Norah frowned.
Then understood.
Restaurant.
Valerie.
Table six.
The same table where she ordered Lily to kneel.
Frankie watched the realization happen.
“We think Patrick used it as a memory cue.”
“For what?”
“He said the black folder Valerie carried that night contained the original Yard Nine schedules.”
Norah’s stomach dropped.
The dinner had not simply been dinner.
Valerie had brought freight documents into the restaurant.
And perhaps spilled wine had not been the thing that made her furious.
Maybe Lily had gotten too close to the folder.
Norah whispered:
“Does Dominic know?”
Frankie looked at her.
“Not yet.”
“Why not?”
“Because he’s been calling me for an hour.”
Norah stared.
“You haven’t answered?”
“No.”
“Why?”
For the first time, Frankie DeLuca looked afraid.
“Because Patrick said the person changing those manifests has access to Dominic’s private office.”
Norah understood.
Everyone around Dominic Mercer had suddenly become a question.
Including Frankie.
May you like
And somehow the tired waitress with eighty-seven dollars in her account had become the one person standing outside the circle.
The one person nobody had thought important enough to buy.
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