Chapter 3 - The Waitress Who Became Leverage
“No.”
Chantelle folded her arms.
Devlin stood beside a black SUV outside the emergency tunnel exit.
“No what?”
“No hotel. No safe house. No mysterious mansion. I'm going home.”
“Someone photographed you beside me.”
“That's your problem.”
“They threatened you.”
“Also because of you.”
“Yes.”
The simple admission stopped her.
Devlin continued.
“Which makes your safety my responsibility.”
“You don't get to decide where I sleep.”
“You're right.”
She blinked.
“I am?”
“You can choose.”
Devlin pointed toward the street.
“Come with me somewhere protected, or go home and hope the person who knows your face doesn't know your address.”
Chantelle stared at him.
“That isn't a choice.”
“No. It's reality.”
She hated that he was right.
Twenty minutes later, she sat inside an armored SUV.
Liam drove.
Devlin sat beside her.
“Who are they?” Chantelle asked.
“I'm finding out.”
“Why were you being followed?”
“Business.”
She laughed once.
“You're going to have to improve that answer.”
“No.”
“Then I'm getting out at the next light.”
“The doors are locked.”
Chantelle turned slowly.
“You locked me in?”
“For safety.”
“Unlock them.”
“No.”
“Devlin.”
He looked at her.
She pointed a finger at him.
“I've dealt with drunk businessmen, cheating husbands, screaming managers, and a woman who threw pancakes at me because her syrup was cold. Do not test me tonight.”
Liam stared straight ahead.
Devlin's mouth twitched.
“Liam.”
“Yes?”
“Unlock the doors.”
A click sounded.
Chantelle leaned back.
“Thank you.”
“You're welcome.”
“Still don't like you.”
“I'll recover.”
They arrived at a discreet hotel owned by Murphy Development.
Devlin gave her a private suite.
She stopped at the door.
“This room probably costs more than my rent.”
“It does.”
“You could've lied.”
“I rarely lie.”
“That's exactly what liars say.”
Inside, Chantelle immediately checked the windows.
Devlin noticed.
“You're learning.”
“I'm wondering whether I can climb down.”
“Twenty-two floors?”
“I haven't ruled it out.”
His phone rang.
Liam's voice came through.
“We found the gray jacket.”
“Alive?”
“Yes.”
“Talk to him.”
“Already did.”
Devlin's expression changed.
“What?”
“He wasn't after you.”
Devlin looked at Chantelle.
“Who was he after?”
“Her.”
Silence.
Chantelle stopped breathing for a second.
Devlin said, “Explain.”
“His instructions were to photograph the woman who sat beside you and create panic during the tunnel stop.”
“But nobody knew she'd sit there.”
“Exactly.”
Devlin ended the call.
Chantelle stared at him.
“Tell me.”
“Someone adapted quickly.”
“To what?”
“To you.”
She shook her head.
“I'm a waitress.”
“You keep saying that as though it makes you invisible.”
“To people like you, it usually does.”
That landed harder than she intended.
Devlin said nothing.
Chantelle looked away.
“My life is not interesting. I work. I pay rent. I argue with the electric company. That's it.”
Devlin's gaze narrowed.
“Where do you work?”
“Bellamy's.”
“Near the financial district?”
“Yes.”
“How long?”
“Three years.”
“Who was at your tables tonight?”
She frowned.
“Hundreds of people.”
“Think.”
Chantelle sat down.
“Dinner shift. Table twelve was tourists. Fourteen was a couple celebrating an anniversary. Seventeen…”
She stopped.
Devlin noticed.
“What?”
“Three men.”
“Names?”
“I don't know.”
“Describe them.”
“One wore a gray suit. Expensive watch. Barely ate. Another kept receiving calls.”
“And the third?”
“He argued with someone.”
“About?”
“I wasn't listening.”
Devlin simply looked at her.
She sighed.
“Fine. I was listening.”
“What did he say?”
Chantelle searched her memory.
“He said, ‘Murphy doesn't know the manifests were copied.’”
Devlin became completely still.
Chantelle's voice softened.
“That means something.”
“Yes.”
“What?”
“It means the train wasn't where this started.”
He stepped closer.
“It started at your restaurant.”
Her eyes widened.
“Because I overheard them?”
“Maybe.”
“I didn't even understand what they were discussing.”
“They don't know that.”
A knock came.
Liam entered carrying photographs.
He placed three on the table.
Chantelle pointed immediately.
“That's him.”
Devlin looked down.
The man from Bellamy's.
Liam said, “Elias Crane.”
Chantelle waited.
Devlin's expression turned cold.
“Former chief financial officer of Murphy Maritime.”
“Former?”
“I fired him eighteen months ago.”
“For?”
“Stealing.”
Chantelle looked between them.
“So tonight he was discussing stolen shipping records in my restaurant?”
Devlin nodded.
“And now he thinks I heard something useful.”
“Yes.”
Chantelle stood.
“Then call the police.”
Liam and Devlin exchanged a glance.
She groaned.
“Why do dangerous men always make that face when someone says police?”
Devlin picked up the photograph.
“Because Crane has people inside the investigation.”
“How convenient.”
“For him.”
Devlin turned toward the window.
“But now he has a problem.”
“What?”
“He thinks you're leverage.”
Devlin looked back at Chantelle.
“He doesn't understand that you're a witness.”
She shook her head.
“I didn't see anything.”
“You remembered his face.”
“Yes.”
“You remembered his words.”
“Yes.”
“You noticed the man on the train before my security team did.”
Chantelle stared at him.
Devlin's voice lowered.
May you like
“Stop telling me you didn't see anything.”
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