Chapter 10
Ten
Noah
After the shop closed, I stacked chairs and ran the mop over the floor like it might somehow clean the day out of my head. The windows were dark, except for the streetlamp outside. I turned the sign to “Closed,” locked up, and made my way up the back stairs.
The upstairs office was nothing like the café. Here, the air was cold and still, the only light a thin strip of LED under the bookshelf. The furniture was sleek—leather, glass, metal. Everything else was empty space, except for the three men waiting for me at the conference table.
They all stood as I walked in. Suits tailored so well you could see the tension in their shoulders.
The one in the middle—a tall guy with sharp cheekbones—set a folder on the table and slid it to me.
I didn’t sit. I just flipped the folder open. The name on the first page jumped out at me: Carter, Richard.
The report was thick. Money hidden in LLCs, weird offshore transfers, two shell companies. Amateur hour, but still a problem.
Sharp Cheekbones cleared his throat. “We can make it go away tonight if you want.”
I closed the folder, tapped it twice, and put it aside. “Richard Carter can wait. We have more important matters tonight.”
They all nodded at once, a synchronized dip of respect.
“Next,” I said.
The meeting went fast. Logistics, shipments, a city inspector who needed “reminding.” I handed out orders, signed off on payouts, and dismissed them as quickly as they came.
When the last man left, I sat at the table alone for a minute, staring at the Carter file.
I thought about Caroline. The way she looked at the world, like she’d already lost everything worth protecting. The way she never asked for anything, but always left more behind than she took.
I tucked the folder in the bottom drawer and locked it.
Then I went back down to the empty café, switched on the lights, and made myself a shot of espresso.
There were things worth savoring in this world. And if I had anything to say about it, Caroline Carter would get to savor them too.
Even if she never knew why.