Chapter 13 - The Service Elevator
I called Mia six times.
Nothing.
Rachel called Brooks.
Dominic called our driver, who was ten minutes from the club.
Then I remembered something.
“Mia uses the service entrance,” I said. “The elevator loses signal.”
It was a reasonable explanation.
I tried to make myself believe it.
At the club, the front desk said Dennis wasn’t there.
A bartender told Brooks he had seen him twenty minutes earlier.
That was enough to keep her asking.
Dominic and I arrived as two officers entered through the service corridor.
I stayed by the loading doors, gripping my phone.
The building hummed around us.
Ventilation.
Traffic overhead.
A delivery cart rattling somewhere out of sight.
Then a service door opened.
Mia came out with an officer beside her.
Her face was white.
I reached her before she saw me.
“Are you hurt?”
She shook her head.
Then she started crying.
Dennis had brought her into a storage office.
Her paycheck sat on the desk beside a new statement.
It said I had encouraged her to lie because Dominic wanted control of the club.
“He said I could leave when I signed.”
My stomach turned.
“Did he lock the door?”
“He stood in front of it.”
“What happened?”
“He heard the officers.”
Dennis emerged several minutes later.
His tie was crooked.
He looked at Mia, then at me.
“You have no idea what you’re doing.”
I stepped closer.
For once, there was nobody between us carrying plates.
“I know exactly what you did.”
He glanced toward Dominic.
“Your husband won’t be able to protect everyone.”
Brooks heard him.
“So keep talking,” she said.
Dennis stopped.
Mia’s phone hadn’t died.
She had turned it off because Dennis demanded it.
Before she did, she had sent Rachel a photograph of the statement on his desk.
The message arrived late when her phone reconnected.
Dennis had called it a correction.
At the top was the same phrase from my forged agreement.
Voluntary participation.
I stared at those words until they blurred.
The next morning, officers arrested Preston at his father’s house.
Dennis was taken into custody separately.
The remaining men were ordered to surrender or brought in under warrants, depending on the allegations against them.
For one bright second, I thought I might finally breathe.
Then Rachel called.
“Preston’s lawyer has made an offer.”
“What kind?”
“He’ll consider a plea.”
May you like
I closed my eyes.
“But only if your testimony disappears from the agreement.”
