Chapter 2 - The Manifest Under Table Fourteen

Chloe carried the replacement glass back toward the VIP booth, but the room no longer looked the same.

Ten minutes earlier, it had been a collection of expensive people wasting expensive liquor beneath gold light.

Now every face looked like a question.

David was still talking.

“Customs flagged the container because the description didn’t match the agricultural exemption.”

Adam lifted his eyes as Chloe approached.

“Which description?”

David hesitated.

“The translated one.”

Chloe set the glass down.

She did not look at David.

Adam did.

“Translated from what?”

“Arabic.”

Adam’s fingers stopped against the edge of the table.

Chloe felt the warning before he spoke.

“Read it.”

David blinked. “What?”

“The customs note.”

“I don’t have it here.”

“You had it ten minutes ago.”

David’s face drained.

“I must have left it with the broker.”

Chloe heard herself say, “No, you didn’t.”

Arthur, hovering several feet away, closed his eyes as if asking heaven for patience.

David turned toward her.

“What did you say?”

Chloe folded her hands in front of her apron.

“You said the container was held because the translated description didn’t match an agricultural exemption.”

“Yes.”

“But five minutes ago you said the shipment contained machine parts.”

David’s mouth opened.

She continued.

“Agricultural exemptions don’t apply to industrial machine parts.”

A businessman on Adam’s left quietly set down his cigar.

David forced a laugh.

“Waitresses are customs experts now?”

“No.”

Chloe met his eyes.

“But former government language contractors tend to notice when people tell incompatible lies.”

The words changed the temperature at the table.

Adam did not move.

Kareem did.

Only slightly.

His head turned toward Chloe with renewed attention.

Arthur stepped forward.

“Chloe. Service station. Now.”

Adam raised one hand.

Arthur stopped as though he had walked into glass.

“Former government contractor?” Adam asked.

Chloe regretted the sentence already.

“That part of my life is over.”

“What kind of contractor?”

“Language analysis.”

“For whom?”

“People who preferred not to put their names on business cards.”

Kareem almost smiled.

Adam did not.

“What did you analyze?”

“Calls. Documents. Trade records. Diplomatic summaries. Whatever they put in front of me.”

“And then?”

“Budget cut.”

“You sound unconvinced.”

“I sound tired.”

David pushed back from the table.

“This is absurd. We’re discussing a delayed shipment, not interviewing a waitress for the intelligence service.”

Chloe looked at him.

“Warehouse nineteen.”

David froze.

Adam’s gaze sharpened.

“What about warehouse nineteen?”

Chloe wished she could pull the words back into her mouth.

Instead, she reached into the pocket of her apron.

The paper was not there.

Her pulse jumped.

She searched the second pocket.

Nothing.

Arthur’s expression changed.

Only for a fraction of a second.

But Chloe saw it.

She turned toward him.

“Where is it?”

Arthur frowned. “Where is what?”

“The paper from table fourteen.”

“What paper?”

“The shipping page I found three nights ago.”

Arthur stared at her.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“You told me to throw it away.”

“I tell you to throw away hundreds of things.”

“You picked it up after I put it in the office drawer.”

Arthur’s face hardened.

“Careful.”

Adam leaned back.

“Everyone stop.”

No one argued.

He looked at Chloe.

“Start again.”

She drew a slow breath.

“Three nights ago, after close, I found a shipping document under table fourteen. Half of it was in English. Half in Arabic.”

“What company?”

“There was no company name on the first page.”

“What was on it?”

“Container numbers. A Tangier routing code. Warehouse nineteen.”

David’s hand moved toward his jacket.

Kareem noticed.

“Hands on the table,” he said.

David stared at him.

Kareem did not repeat himself.

David placed both hands flat on the black marble.

Adam’s voice remained level.

“What else was on the document?”

Chloe looked at him.

“Four words.”

“In English?”

“Yes.”

“Say them.”

She did.

“Transfer before Adam discovers it.”

For the first time since the glass shattered, Adam’s composure cracked.

Not dramatically.

His eyes simply lost all trace of boredom.

He turned to David.

“Explain.”

David swallowed.

“I’ve never seen that document.”

“Wrong answer.”

“I’m telling you the truth.”

“Then why did you stop breathing when she said warehouse nineteen?”

“I didn’t.”

“You did.”

David looked around the table.

No one offered help.

“Adam, this is business. There are always duplicate routing codes, temporary storage sites—”

“Warehouse nineteen belongs to a company that stopped existing six years ago.”

Chloe turned toward Adam.

“You knew the number?”

He ignored the question.

“David, who told you to use it?”

“No one.”

Kareem stepped closer.

David’s voice rose.

“I said no one.”

Adam glanced toward Chloe.

“Where did you put the paper?”

“In the manager’s office. Bottom drawer. I thought it might belong to a customer.”

Arthur laughed once, too loudly.

“This is becoming ridiculous.”

Adam stood.

Arthur stopped laughing.

Adam was taller than Chloe had realized.

The room seemed to reorganize itself around him.

“Show me the drawer.”

Arthur’s face tightened.

“Mr. Adam, there are employee records in my office. Payroll information. Private documents.”

“Then you can stand beside me while I open it.”

“I can’t allow customers into staff areas.”

Adam stared at him.

Arthur swallowed.

“Of course.”

Chloe watched the manager lead them away from the booth.

Kareem followed.

David did not.

Adam stopped at the edge of the lounge.

“Bring him.”

Kareem turned back.

David remained seated for another second.

Then he stood.

The manager’s office smelled of printer toner, old coffee, and Arthur’s aggressive cologne.

He unlocked the door with shaking hands.

“The bottom drawer,” Chloe said.

Arthur opened it.

Employee schedules.

Invoices.

A box of envelopes.

No shipping page.

Arthur spread his hands.

“You see?”

Chloe stepped forward.

“It was there.”

“Perhaps you imagined it.”

“I translated part of it.”

“After an eleven-hour shift?”

Her jaw tightened.

Arthur turned to Adam.

“She’s been under stress. Money problems. I’ve tried to help her, but lately she’s been distracted.”

Chloe stared at him.

“You grabbed my arm tonight.”

“Because you nearly drenched one of our most important guests.”

“The customer hit my tray.”

“You always have an explanation.”

Adam looked from one to the other.

“Security cameras.”

Arthur blinked.

“What?”

“Your office has a camera outside the door.”

“Yes, but—”

“Show me three nights ago.”

“The footage cycles every forty-eight hours.”

Kareem spoke for the first time since entering the office.

“No, it doesn’t.”

Arthur looked at him.

Kareem pointed toward a black cabinet beneath the desk.

“That recorder holds at least two weeks.”

The manager’s face lost another shade of color.

Adam’s eyes hardened.

“You have thirty seconds to decide whether you want to be inconvenient or suspicious.”

Arthur sat at the computer.

His fingers missed the password twice.

Chloe watched the footage load.

Night vision turned the staff corridor gray.

There she was.

Three nights earlier.

Hair coming loose from its bun.

Carrying a stack of menus.

She entered the office.

Forty seconds later, she left.

At 2:17 a.m., Arthur appeared.

He unlocked the office.

Entered.

Left three minutes later with a single folded sheet in his hand.

No one spoke.

Arthur stared at the screen.

“That could be anything.”

Chloe felt something cold settle in her chest.

“You told me you never saw it.”

“I pick up abandoned papers all the time.”

“Then where is it?”

“I threw it away.”

“Where?” Adam asked.

“The trash.”

“Which trash?”

Arthur’s mouth tightened.

“The building trash.”

Kareem stepped closer to the screen.

“Zoom.”

Arthur did.

The paper in his hand carried a small red stamp in the corner.

Adam went completely still.

Chloe noticed.

“What is that?”

He did not answer immediately.

Kareem did.

“An internal customs mark.”

“Whose?”

Adam’s eyes remained fixed on the frozen image.

“Mine.”

Chloe looked at him.

Arthur spoke quickly.

“I didn’t know that.”

Adam turned.

“Who gave you the document?”

“No one.”

“Who told you to remove it?”

“No one.”

“Then why did you lie?”

Arthur’s jaw worked.

“Because I knew what this would look like.”

“It looks like theft.”

“It was one piece of paper.”

“It looks like someone at this club is cleaning records for someone moving cargo through a dead warehouse.”

Arthur’s voice sharpened.

“You don’t own this club.”

Adam’s expression barely changed.

“No.”

He glanced at Chloe.

“But I own the building.”

Arthur went silent.

Chloe almost laughed despite herself.

Adam looked back at him.

“You’re done for the night.”

Arthur stared.

“You can’t fire me.”

“I can cancel the club’s lease before breakfast.”

“That would cost you millions.”

Adam’s voice dropped.

“Try me.”

Arthur looked at Chloe with open hatred.

“This is because of her.”

“No,” Adam said. “This is because you lied badly.”

Arthur reached for his coat.

Before leaving, he stopped beside Chloe.

“You have no idea what you just stepped into.”

She stared back.

“Apparently neither do you.”

His mouth curled.

Then he walked out.

Kareem locked the office door behind him.

David remained near the wall.

Sweat darkened his collar.

Adam turned toward him.

“Now we try again.”

David looked toward the door.

“Am I being held here?”

“No.”

“Then I’m leaving.”

“Go.”

David blinked.

Adam stepped aside.

David walked toward the door.

His hand touched the handle.

Then Chloe said in Arabic, “If you walk out now, whoever sent you will assume you talked.”

David stopped.

Adam’s gaze flicked toward her.

David slowly turned.

“Why would you say that?”

“Because you’re afraid of us,” Chloe answered, “but you’re more afraid of someone outside this room.”

His face betrayed him.

Adam saw it too.

Chloe continued.

“You keep checking your phone without taking it out. You keep looking at the door. And every time warehouse nineteen is mentioned, you touch your right cuff.”

David looked down.

A tiny gold link held the cuff together.

Etched into it was a flower.

An orchid.

Adam’s breath changed.

Kareem murmured something under his breath.

Chloe looked between them.

“What does it mean?”

Adam crossed the room.

He caught David’s wrist, not violently, but firmly enough to hold the cuff in the light.

“Where did you get this?”

David’s lips trembled.

“It was a gift.”

“From whom?”

“I can’t.”

“David.”

“I can’t.”

Adam released him.

David rubbed his wrist.

His eyes moved to Chloe.

“You think you found a crooked shipment.”

She said nothing.

He laughed without humor.

“You found a door.”

“To what?” she asked.

David’s voice became almost inaudible.

“To the part of his company he was never supposed to see.”

Adam’s face went cold.

“Who?”

David shook his head.

“Not here.”

“Then where?”

David reached into his pocket slowly.

Kareem’s hand moved inside his jacket.

David pulled out a plastic key card.

He placed it on the desk.

A faded number had been written across it in black marker.

19.

“Tomorrow. One in the morning.”

Adam stared at the card.

David looked at Chloe.

“And don’t bring anyone you trust.”

Kareem’s expression hardened.

“That includes me?”

David gave him a frightened, almost apologetic look.

“It includes everyone.”

He opened the door and walked away before Adam stopped him.

For several seconds, no one spoke.

Chloe looked at the key card.

Then at Adam.

“I assume this is the part where I go back to pouring drinks.”

“No.”

“I’m off at two.”

“You’re off now.”

She narrowed her eyes.

“I don’t work for you.”

Adam pulled the five hundred dollars from his pocket and placed it on the desk again.

“I know.”

“I already said I don’t want your money.”

“This isn’t for the whiskey.”

“What is it for?”

“Consulting.”

She laughed.

“You insulted me in Arabic twenty minutes ago.”

“Yes.”

“You called me cattle.”

“Yes.”

“You implied poverty had a smell.”

His jaw tightened.

“Yes.”

“And now you want to hire me.”

“Yes.”

“That is the worst apology I have ever heard.”

Adam looked at the money.

Then he put it back in his pocket.

“You’re right.”

Chloe waited.

His expression suggested the next words physically hurt.

“I was cruel because I assumed you were powerless.”

She said nothing.

“That was not your failure.”

Still she waited.

He exhaled.

“It was mine.”

Kareem suddenly found the ceiling interesting.

Chloe folded her arms.

“That was almost human.”

Adam’s eyes narrowed.

“Don’t ruin it.”

For the first time all night, she smiled.

Only a little.

Then she looked at the card again.

“Five hundred isn’t enough.”

Adam raised an eyebrow.

“For consulting?”

“For walking into a dead warehouse at one in the morning because a terrified businessman gave us a key card with an orchid on it.”

“How much?”

Chloe thought about the heating bill.

Then she thought about the government contract that had vanished.

About the months of applications that went nowhere.

About the paper under table fourteen.

“Two thousand.”

Kareem coughed.

Adam studied her.

“Done.”

Chloe blinked.

“I should have said five.”

“Yes.”

She held out her hand.

He looked at it.

“What?”

“Consultants shake hands.”

Adam took her hand.

His grip was warm and controlled.

For one strange second, neither let go.

Then Kareem’s phone vibrated.

He looked at the screen.

His expression changed.

“Adam.”

“What?”

“David’s car just left the garage.”

“That’s not surprising.”

Kareem turned the phone toward him.

A security image showed the black sedan exiting onto the avenue.

“Look at the passenger seat.”

Adam leaned closer.

Chloe did too.

A man sat beside David.

Older.

Silver-haired.

Wearing a dark overcoat.

Adam’s hand tightened around the edge of the desk.

Chloe looked at him.

“You know him.”

Adam’s voice came out flat.

“Yes.”

“Who is he?”

For the first time that night, Adam looked genuinely afraid.

“My father’s former lawyer.”

Kareem’s jaw hardened.

“The man who disappeared after Lorenzo Moretti died.”

Chloe looked again at the grainy photograph.

The silver-haired man was staring directly toward the garage camera.

Almost as though he knew they would watch later.

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Then she noticed something else.

Pinned to his lapel was a small gold orchid.