Chapter 3 - The Man Behind the Kitchen Door
Emergency lights flooded the restaurant red.
Grant immediately moved Vincent away from the windows.
“Kitchen exit.”
Molly grabbed Arthur.
“Where’s Evan?”
“I don’t know!”
“Think.”
“They moved him yesterday.”
“Where was the video recorded?”
“A basement.”
“That helps enormously.”
“There was a sound.”
Molly stopped.
“What sound?”
Arthur closed his eyes.
“Trains.”
Vincent looked toward Grant.
“Elevated tracks?”
“Could be.”
Arthur shook his head.
“No. Bells first.”
Molly frowned.
“Rail crossing.”
Vincent pulled out his phone.
“Grant, find industrial properties near rail crossings owned by anyone connected to tonight’s guest list.”
Grant stared at him.
“That’s several hundred properties.”
“Then start with people who hate me.”
“That narrows it to several thousand.”
Vincent almost smiled.
“Start driving.”
They moved through the kitchen.
Molly stopped beside the preparation station.
A stainless-steel container sat near the sink.
“Don’t touch that.”
Arthur froze.
“That wasn’t there earlier.”
Inside was a small glass vial.
Empty.
Grant photographed it.
Molly crouched without touching anything.
“There.”
A tiny printed symbol was visible near the base.
Arthur whispered:
“What is it?”
Molly felt cold.
“I’ve seen that logo.”
“Where?”
“Hospital supply packaging.”
Vincent stared at her.
“St. Catherine?”
“Yes.”
Grant’s phone rang.
He answered.
Thirty seconds later, his expression changed.
“We found something.”
“What?”
“One of tonight’s guests controls a medical-distribution company.”
Vincent waited.
Grant looked at Molly.
“Dr. Simon Vale.”
Molly stopped breathing.
Vincent noticed.
“You know him.”
“He was chief administrator at St. Catherine.”
Arthur lowered himself onto a counter.
“Oh, God.”
Molly remembered the hearing.
The accusations.
Simon Vale sitting across from her while hospital lawyers destroyed her career.
Vincent asked:
“Was he involved in Cross’s death?”
“I couldn’t prove it.”
“Tonight might help.”
Grant received another message.
“Vale Medical Logistics owns an abandoned warehouse beside the Cicero rail yard.”
Arthur stood.
“Evan.”
They drove there in three vehicles.
Vincent insisted Molly ride with him.
“You don’t trust me?” she asked.
“No.”
“Fair.”
He glanced at her wrist.
“You saved my life.”
“Maybe.”
“You still don’t trust me?”
“No.”
“Also fair.”
For the first time, Vincent smiled.
Only slightly.
Then it disappeared.
“Why didn’t you fight the hospital harder?”
Molly looked through the window.
“I did.”
“And?”
“They had lawyers. Money. Connections.”
“So?”
She turned toward him.
“That question sounds different when you’re the person with all three.”
Vincent said nothing.
Then:
“If we survive tonight, remind me you said that.”
The warehouse appeared ahead.
Grant’s men entered first.
Minutes later, they found Evan.
Alive.
Terrified.
Arthur dropped beside his son.
“Dad?”
Arthur hugged him.
“I’m sorry.”
Evan shook violently.
“They said they’d kill you too.”
Vincent stood several feet away.
“Who?”
Evan pointed toward an office.
“There was one man who didn’t wear a mask.”
Grant opened the door.
Empty.
But Molly saw something on the desk.
A patient file.
Daniel Cross.
She opened it.
Inside were laboratory reports that had supposedly disappeared three years earlier.
Vincent read over her shoulder.
“What does it mean?”
Molly stared at the numbers.
“My patient was poisoned.”
Vincent looked toward Grant.
“And she was blamed.”
Molly turned another page.
Her own employee photograph was clipped inside.
Underneath it, someone had written:
SHE SAW TOO MUCH.
A slow clap came from the doorway.
Everyone turned.
Dr. Simon Vale stood there.
May you like
And he was smiling.
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