Chapter 2 - Five Minutes Became Forty
“Stay by me,” Sal told Rosie as they entered the service corridor. He didn't take her hand. When he offered, she tucked both hands under the wet bear instead.
The hallway smelled of lemon cleaner, spilled beer, and damp wool. A dishwasher glanced at Sal, then quickly returned to stacking glasses.
Malik followed, jaw tight. “Sir, I was told nobody could wait outside.”
“You could've brought her into the vestibule.”
“Victor said not to let her through.”
“So you made her stand in the rain?”
Malik looked at Rosie. “Yeah.” The word came out small. “I did.”
They found Nora in a cramped office off the upstairs landing. Her hair had slipped from its clip. Her canvas tote lay open beside a chair. Victor Bellini, forty, was standing between her and the doorway with a two-page agreement in his hand.
“Sign it,” Victor said. “I didn't invent the charges.”
Nora turned when the door opened. First she saw Rosie. Then she saw Sal.
“Oh, God.” She crossed the room so fast that she knocked the chair sideways. “Rosie, baby, are you okay?”
“You were gone forever.”
“I know. I'm sorry. I should've—” Nora stopped when she touched the icy sleeves of the pink coat. She stared over her daughter's head at Malik. “I asked you to keep her inside the entryway.”
Malik didn't defend himself.
Victor looked irritated rather than surprised. “Dad, this is between Nora and me.”
“You brought her child here.”
“She brought the child herself,” Victor replied. “Nobody made her.”
Nora pressed her lips together. He was right about that part. Her sitter had canceled; her husband was working nights at the transit depot. She'd believed she could get the paperwork and leave. She had been wrong.
“Why is Ben's truck locked in your warehouse?” Sal asked.
“Collection issue.”
“Collection of what?”
Victor tapped the papers. “Charges for unauthorized use of a secured loading area, plus storage and recovery costs.”
“Ben was picking up his tools,” Nora said. “Your men blocked the exit and told him the truck wasn't going anywhere until he agreed to make deliveries for you.”
“That's not how it happened.”
“Then show me the video.”
Victor folded the paper once. “There isn't any useful footage.”
Sal remembered the loading cameras. His company had installed them after a warehouse break-in last spring.
“Take us to the control room,” he said.
Victor laughed once, without humor. “You're going to take her side without even asking?”
Sal glanced at Rosie. She had begun rubbing a wet patch on the bear's chest with her thumb, over and over.
“I'm asking now.”
May you like
Victor slid the agreement into his jacket. “All right. But if you open that footage, Dad, you won't like what you see.”
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