Chapter 3 - The Night the Mafia Boss Chose Her Side
By six o'clock, Cross Logistics had begun emptying.
Employees shut down their computers, exchanged tired goodbyes, and hurried toward the elevators. Rain tapped against the windows, turning the city into a blur of headlights and wet pavement.
Addison remained at her desk.
She had discovered a problem with the shipping database: a set of records appeared twice, but the duplicate entries contained different destinations.
One version routed medical equipment to a legitimate hospital network.
The other redirected it to an unregistered warehouse.
Both versions carried Dwayne's authorization.
Someone had not merely forged his signature.
They had built a system designed to create two histories, one visible to auditors and another intended for the people actually moving the cargo.
The more Addison examined it, the more sophisticated the scheme became.
This wasn't a simple theft.
It was a parallel organization living inside Cross Logistics.
And whoever managed it had been careful enough to make Dwayne appear responsible for every suspicious transaction.
At 6:17 p.m., Addison printed the latest comparison report and placed it inside a folder.
She was about to leave when Simon appeared in her doorway.
"You're still here."
"Astute observation."
He glanced toward Dwayne's office.
"He asked me to see if you were ready to go."
"I'm not going anywhere with you."
Simon raised both hands.
"Relax. I'm not kidnapping you."
"That is precisely what someone planning to kidnap me might say."
He sighed.
"Do you ever stop?"
"Occasionally. Usually when I'm asleep."
Simon stepped inside.
For the first time since she had met him, he looked uncomfortable without being angry.
"Listen. About last night."
"The bet?"
"Yes."
"Was there more?"
He hesitated.
Addison noticed.
"What aren't you telling me?"
Simon pulled out a chair and sat down.
"I thought the whole thing was harmless. Dwayne was bored, I was bored, and you looked like you could use a lesson in not taking work so seriously."
"You wagered fifty thousand dollars on my humiliation."
"When you say it like that, it sounds terrible."
"It sounded terrible when you said it, too."
Simon lowered his eyes.
"You're right."
Addison waited.
He rubbed his hands together.
"The truth is, I made that bet because Victor suggested it."
The room grew quiet.
"Victor Sloane?"
Simon nodded.
"He was in Dwayne's office last week. He said Dwayne had become impossible to entertain, and maybe we should get him to do something impulsive. He mentioned you."
Addison studied him.
"What exactly did he say?"
"That you had no life outside work. That you'd panic if anyone put you in a room full of important people. He thought it would be funny."
"Did he mention the money?"
"No. That was my idea."
"Of course it was."
Simon winced.
"I deserve that."
"Yes."
He looked toward the office corridor.
"There's something else. Victor asked me whether you had ever requested access to old shipping records. He was very interested in your schedule, your assignments, and whether you had started asking questions about Thomas Bell."
Addison's stomach tightened.
"What did you tell him?"
"Nothing useful."
"Simon."
"I told him you were doing your job. I said you liked spreadsheets and hated meetings. I didn't know anything else."
She searched his face.
It was difficult to tell whether Simon had always been a coward or whether fear had simply become his natural response to Dwayne's world.
Either way, he had been careless.
"Do you know where Victor is now?"
"At the private terminal near the river. He said there was an equipment inspection."
Addison stood.
"What time did he leave?"
"Twenty minutes ago."
She grabbed her handbag.
Simon rose.
"Where are you going?"
"To verify something."
"You can't go alone."
"I'm not asking permission."
She reached the door.
Simon caught up with her.
"Addison, wait. That terminal isn't safe after dark."
She stopped.
"Why?"
He swallowed.
"Because it isn't on any of the company's official schedules."
That was all Addison needed to hear.
She turned toward Dwayne's office and knocked once before entering.
He stood behind his desk, talking to Rafael Ortiz, a broad-shouldered man with a scar along his jaw and a habit of watching every door in the room.
Dwayne ended the conversation.
"What's wrong?"
"Victor is at the river terminal."
Dwayne's eyes narrowed.
"How do you know?"
"Simon told me."
Rafael looked at Simon.
Simon lifted his hands.
"She asked."
Dwayne grabbed his jacket.
"What did you find?"
Addison handed him the folder.
"The duplicate manifests. One set sends medical supplies to hospitals. The other redirects them to an unregistered warehouse. The timestamps show that the records were altered remotely."
Rafael examined the papers.
"That's impossible. The private terminal has been closed for eighteen months."
"Officially," Addison said.
Dwayne's expression hardened.
"Get the cars."
Rafael left immediately.
Dwayne turned back toward Addison.
"You're staying here."
"No."
"That wasn't a request."
"And that wasn't an answer."
His eyes flashed.
"This isn't an office disagreement. If Victor is moving stolen cargo, there could be armed men at the terminal."
"Then you need someone who can identify the falsified manifests and distinguish the real shipment records from the duplicates."
"I have people who can do that."
"None of them found the fraud."
His jaw tightened.
For a moment, she thought he would order his men to lock her in the building.
Instead, he picked up his phone and made a call.
"Prepare a vehicle. Addison is coming with me."
Simon stared.
"You're bringing her?"
Dwayne shrugged on his coat.
"Apparently, I value my own survival."
They left the building through the underground garage.
The convoy consisted of two black vehicles. Dwayne rode in the first, Addison beside him. Rafael sat in the front passenger seat while Simon followed in the second car.
For several minutes, nobody spoke.
Then Dwayne looked at Addison.
"What did the message say?"
She knew which one he meant.
She took out her phone and showed him the photograph.
His expression darkened.
"Why didn't you tell me about the threat immediately?"
"I did tell you."
"After it arrived. But the message itself—what did the sender mean about your father having a chance to walk away?"
"I don't know."
"Do you believe it?"
She watched the rain streak down the window.
"I believe someone wants me to believe it."
Dwayne studied her.
"That's a very different answer."
"It's the only honest one I have."
The convoy turned onto a narrow road running parallel to the river.
Warehouse lights appeared in the distance.
Some buildings were dark and abandoned. Others contained legitimate businesses that worked late into the night. The private terminal stood behind a tall fence, its security lights glowing against the rain.
Two trucks waited near a loading bay.
Neither carried the Cross Logistics logo.
Dwayne watched them through the windshield.
"Stay behind me."
Addison unfastened her seat belt.
"I'll stay where I can read the documents."
"Addison."
"Dwayne."
He stared at her.
She stared back.
Finally, he muttered something under his breath and opened the door.
Inside the terminal, several workers were moving crates from one truck to another.
At the far end of the warehouse, Victor Sloane stood beside a table covered with papers. He was in his early fifties, impeccably dressed despite the weather, with silver at his temples and the calm expression of a man who had survived by appearing reasonable.
When he saw Dwayne, his face brightened.
"Dwayne. I wasn't expecting you."
"Clearly."
Victor glanced at Addison.
His smile did not disappear.
It merely became colder.
"I see you brought your new director."
"She's interested in the shipment records."
Victor laughed softly.
"Is that what we're calling office curiosity these days?"
Addison stepped forward.
"Can you explain why this container has two destinations listed in the company's system?"
She handed him a copy of the manifest.
Victor examined it.
"Administrative error."
"Both records contain valid authorization codes."
"Then someone in the systems department made a mistake."
"The alteration occurred remotely at 2:14 a.m. The originating device was registered to your office."
Victor's expression remained pleasant.
"Then your investigation has identified an obvious suspect. Congratulations."
Addison did not react.
"Why are these medical supplies being transferred through a terminal that officially closed eighteen months ago?"
Victor folded the document.
"Storage costs. This location is temporary."
"Then why are the invoices routed through a company that doesn't exist?"
The silence that followed was brief but significant.
Dwayne noticed it.
Rafael noticed it.
Simon, arriving behind them, noticed it most of all.
Victor placed the paper on the table.
"You're making serious accusations, Miss Lynwood."
"I'm asking questions."
"Perhaps you should remember your position."
Addison tilted her head.
"Director of Internal Compliance."
"An appointment that could be revoked as quickly as it was granted."
Dwayne moved between them.
"You will not threaten my employee."
For the first time, Victor appeared genuinely surprised.
Then he laughed.
"Your employee? Dwayne, forgive me, but I have served this organization longer than she has been alive. I helped build everything your father left you."
"And now you're going to help me understand why somebody is using my name to steal cargo."
Victor's smile faded.
"I have no idea what you're talking about."
Dwayne glanced toward the trucks.
"Open the containers."
Victor's jaw tightened.
"That isn't necessary."
"Open them."
When no one moved, Rafael signaled two security officers.
The container doors swung outward.
Inside were dozens of sealed crates bearing labels from a medical equipment supplier.
Addison walked to the nearest crate and checked the markings.
The shipment was supposed to contain diagnostic equipment destined for three hospitals.
Instead, the boxes had been emptied and repacked with older machinery.
"These aren't the original goods," she said.
Dwayne turned toward Victor.
"Explain."
Victor spread his hands.
"I can only assume the supplier delivered the wrong shipment."
Addison looked at the paperwork again.
"No. These crates were opened after delivery. The seals were replaced, but whoever did it used the wrong adhesive. The original seal residue is still visible beneath the new labels."
She crouched beside one crate.
"And the serial numbers don't match the manifest."
Victor took a step toward her.
"You should stop examining things you don't understand."
Dwayne grabbed his arm.
"Don't."
The warehouse went silent.
Victor looked down at Dwayne's hand.
Then he lifted his eyes.
"You're making a mistake."
"Maybe."
Dwayne released him.
"Or maybe you've been making one for years."
A strange smile appeared on Victor's face.
"You think the records will save you?"
Dwayne's voice dropped.
"What did you say?"
Victor straightened his cuffs.
"I said you should be careful. You're trusting a woman who has lied to you for two years. You have no idea who she really is."
Dwayne's expression became unreadable.
Addison felt the words strike precisely where Victor intended.
For a moment, she was no longer standing in a warehouse.
She was back in the office, watching Dwayne examine the photograph of her father.
She had lied to him.
She had hidden her identity, concealed her investigation, and used his company as a path toward answers.
Whatever else Victor had done, that much was true.
But before she could speak, a sudden crash echoed from the far end of the terminal.
One of the lights shattered.
Then another.
Rafael shouted, "Down!"
Gunfire erupted.
Addison dropped behind the table as security officers pulled Dwayne toward a concrete pillar.
Simon hit the floor beside a stack of pallets.
The workers scattered.
Someone had begun firing from the upper loading platform.
Dwayne drew his weapon and returned fire toward the steel railing.
Addison crouched low, her heart hammering.
She could hear footsteps above them, then a shouted command.
"Get the documents!"
Two men moved toward Victor.
He ducked behind the table and reached for a briefcase.
Addison saw him.
So did Dwayne.
"Victor!"
The older man ignored him.
He snatched the case and ran toward a side exit.
Addison realized the men weren't trying to kill everyone.
They were trying to recover the records.
She grabbed the folder from the table and crawled toward the nearest pillar.
A bullet struck the concrete overhead.
Dwayne reached her and pulled her behind him.
"Are you hurt?"
"No."
"Stay down."
"Victor has the briefcase!"
Dwayne looked toward the exit.
Rafael was already moving to intercept him.
But one of the attackers appeared behind a crate, raising his weapon toward Rafael's back.
Addison saw the movement.
"Rafael!"
The warning came a fraction of a second before the shot.
Rafael twisted aside. The bullet struck his shoulder.
Dwayne fired twice, forcing the attacker behind cover.
Then he turned toward the exit.
Victor was gone.
The shooting continued for another twenty seconds before the attackers retreated through a loading passage and disappeared into the rain.
When the silence finally returned, the terminal smelled of gunpowder, oil, and wet concrete.
Simon staggered to his feet.
"Everyone alive?"
A security officer nodded.
Rafael sat against a pillar, clutching his shoulder while another guard applied pressure to the wound.
Dwayne crouched beside him.
"Stay with me."
"It's a flesh wound," Rafael muttered through clenched teeth.
"You don't get to decide that."
Dwayne ordered the guards to call an ambulance.
Then he turned to Addison.
She was standing near the table, holding the folder against her chest.
His eyes swept over her.
"Let me see your hands."
She looked confused.
"Why?"
"Because I'm asking."
She held them out.
A thin cut crossed her left palm where broken glass had fallen beside the table.
Dwayne stared at the blood.
Something dark passed through his expression.
"Get the medical kit."
"It's a small cut."
"Addison."
She sighed.
"Fine."
He took the kit from Simon and carefully cleaned the wound.
His hands were steady.
Surprisingly gentle.
For a man who had built his reputation on making others fear him, he seemed unable to tolerate the sight of her bleeding.
"You should have stayed behind," he said quietly.
"And let you walk into a trap without the evidence?"
"I don't need you to prove you're brave."
"Good. Because I wasn't being brave. I was being useful."
He looked up.
For a moment, they were so close that she could see a faint scar beneath his right eye.
"You could have been killed."
"So could you."
"That's different."
"Why?"
He opened his mouth, then closed it.
He had no answer that did not reveal too much.
Simon approached them.
"Dwayne, the police are on their way."
"Tell them this was an attempted robbery. Give them the legitimate manifests and nothing more until our attorneys arrive."
Addison stiffened.
"That's not enough."
Dwayne glanced at her.
"We cannot hand everything to people we haven't vetted."
"We cannot alter evidence, either."
"I didn't say we would."
"Then we give them the evidence of the attack and preserve the rest for our legal team."
Dwayne studied her.
"You're right."
Simon blinked.
"Did you just agree with her?"
"Don't make me regret it."
Despite everything, Addison almost smiled.
The paramedics arrived and took Rafael to the hospital.
The police secured the warehouse, photographed the damaged crates, and recorded the statements of the surviving workers.
Dwayne cooperated without offering information that might compromise the larger investigation.
Addison insisted that copies of every manifest be preserved with original timestamps.
By midnight, they were finally back at Cross Logistics.
Only a few lights remained on.
Dwayne stood in the outer office while Addison placed the recovered documents inside a locked cabinet.
"You knew Victor was dangerous," she said.
"I suspected he was hiding something."
"But you didn't expect him to run."
"No."
She locked the cabinet.
"Someone arranged that attack."
"Obviously."
"Someone knew we were coming."
Dwayne looked at her.
"Only the people in this building."
"Which includes Victor."
"And possibly the person who informed him."
Simon, standing near the hallway, looked away.
Dwayne noticed.
"Simon."
His friend froze.
"What?"
"Did you tell anyone we were going to the terminal?"
"No."
The answer came too quickly.
Addison watched his face.
Then Simon swallowed.
"I told Victor I was leaving the office early. I didn't tell him why."
Dwayne's eyes hardened.
"Did you tell him Addison was investigating the shipments?"
"I might have mentioned that she was going through old records."
The room seemed to grow colder.
"Why?" Dwayne asked.
Simon looked miserable.
"Because I was worried. She accused Victor of involvement, and I thought he'd explain the discrepancies. I wasn't trying to help him."
Addison rubbed her injured palm.
Intentions did not undo consequences.
"You gave him a warning," she said.
"I didn't know what he was doing."
"You didn't ask."
Simon had no response.
Dwayne dismissed him.
After Simon left, Addison turned toward Dwayne.
"He's careless."
"Yes."
"He's also scared."
"That doesn't excuse him."
"No. But it might make him useful."
Dwayne gave a short laugh.
"You are remarkably forgiving toward people who deserve a good beating."
"I'm not forgiving him. I'm evaluating him."
"What's the difference?"
"Forgiveness is personal. Evaluation is practical."
Dwayne leaned against the desk.
"And which one applies to me?"
Addison looked directly at him.
"I'm still collecting evidence."
He accepted the answer with a small nod.
Then she noticed something on the desk beside his phone.
A white envelope.
Her name was written across the front in black ink.
She had not seen it when they returned.
Dwayne followed her gaze.
"That arrived while we were at the terminal."
He opened it.
Inside was a single photograph.
Daniel Lynwood stood beside a black sedan outside a building Addison recognized immediately: the old federal courthouse.
The photograph was dated eight years earlier.
On the back, someone had written:
ASK YOUR BOSS WHAT HAPPENED AFTER YOUR FATHER LEFT THE COURTHOUSE.
Addison felt the floor shift beneath her.
She snatched the photograph from Dwayne's hand.
"Where did this come from?"
"The night guard found it under the front door."
Her fingers trembled.
She forced herself to examine the image.
Her father looked younger than in the photograph she kept beside her bed. His face was tense. One hand rested on the roof of the car.
Beside him stood another man.
Dwayne's father.
Charles Cross.
Addison stared at the photograph until the faces blurred.
"My father was working with your father."
Dwayne said nothing.
For the first time, she saw genuine alarm in his eyes.
Neither of them understood what the photograph meant.
But they both knew someone wanted them to find out.
Addison turned toward the door.
Dwayne caught her gaze.
"Where are you going?"
"Home."
"Not alone."
She opened her mouth to argue.
Then she remembered the message that had arrived the night before.
YOUR FATHER DIDN'T.
For once, she did not refuse.
Dwayne took his keys.
"I'll drive."
She picked up her handbag.
"You are not staying at my apartment."
"I wasn't planning to."
"Good."
They rode the elevator in silence.
Outside, the rain had stopped, leaving the pavement gleaming beneath the streetlights.
Dwayne opened the passenger door for her.
Before she climbed in, she looked at him.
"If I discover that your father harmed mine, I will not protect your reputation."
Dwayne met her gaze.
"And if I discover that my own family destroyed yours, I will help you bring the truth into the light."
She searched his face, looking for the familiar signs of manipulation.
She found anger.
Fear.
Something dangerously close to guilt.
But no lie she could prove.
Addison got into the car.
For the first time in eight years, she was no longer investigating her father's disappearance alone.
She was investigating it beside a man whose family might have caused it.
And neither of them yet understood the most frightening part of the photograph.
Dwayne's father had not been looking at Daniel Lynwood.
He had been looking at the person standing behind them.
A person whose face had been carefully scratched from the original print.
May you like
Someone who was still alive.
And someone who had just ordered an attack to stop Addison from learning his name.
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