Chapter 2 - The Wrong Man to Trust
The security chief was already coming.
Gray suit.
Silver hair.
A smile that looked practiced in a mirror.
“Adrian.”
“Martin.”
Martin Hale glanced at Nora.
“Problem with the service?”
“She found something in my drink.”
Nora watched the woman’s face.
The smile stayed.
Only her right hand moved, closing around the edge of her napkin.
Martin reached for the champagne.
“I’ll have it checked.”
“No.”
Adrian’s voice was quiet.
Martin stopped.
“Leave the glass.”
Around them, the orchestra kept playing.
Nora could hear the tiny scrape of a violin bow.
Someone nearby complained that the lobster was cold.
Martin bent toward Adrian.
“We should handle this privately.”
“We’re handling it here.”
Nora looked toward the nearest exit.
Another security guard stood in front of it.
She had thought warning a man would mean calling an ambulance.
Instead, she had stepped into something that already knew her name.
The woman reached for her purse.
Martin’s eyes flicked toward it.
Adrian noticed.
“Leave that on the table, Ms. Shaw.”
“I don’t appreciate this.”
“Then you’ll hate the next part.”
He turned to Nora.
“Tell me exactly what you saw.”
She did.
The vial.
The powder.
The cocktail pick.
The woman’s expression hardened.
“She’s lying.”
Nora felt heat climb her neck.
“I’m not.”
“Do you know how many people would pay a waitress to embarrass you?”
Adrian didn’t look away from Nora.
“Yes,” he said. “I do.”
Martin straightened.
“I’ll bring her to the office and take a statement.”
Nora stepped backward.
Adrian stood.
“She stays with me.”
For a moment, the two men looked at each other without speaking.
Then the woman’s phone vibrated on the table.
The screen lit up.
A photograph filled it.
A little boy sitting beside a blue door.
Nora saw the woman’s lips part.
Under the picture were three words.
Make him drink.
The woman turned the phone facedown.
Too late.
Adrian had seen it.
“Who has the boy?”
Her face lost its color.
“Please.”
Martin moved closer.
“Adrian, this is getting ridiculous.”
Adrian picked up his own phone.
“I’m calling outside law enforcement.”
Martin’s smile vanished.
The ballroom lights went out.
Someone screamed.
A chair struck the floor.
A hand seized Nora’s wrist.
She fought until Adrian’s voice reached her.
“Me. It’s me.”
Emergency lights blinked red above the doors.
Across the table, the woman was gone.
So was the champagne.
Then Nora’s phone vibrated in her apron.
An unknown number.
May you like
One message.
You should have let him drink.
