Chapter 3 - THE MAFIA BOSS WHO OFFERED ME A JOB
By the time the police finished taking statements, The Linden Room had closed for the afternoon.
Daniel Mercer was escorted away for questioning.
The customers had disappeared.
The staff stood in small groups, whispering.
I collected my purse.
Then headed toward the exit.
"Miss Carter."
I stopped.
Adrian stood near the bar.
"Yes?"
"Where are you going?"
"Home."
"Do you have another job?"
I laughed once.
"That was fast. Even for Chicago."
He didn't smile.
"I'm serious."
"So am I."
Adrian approached.
"Daniel had no right to fire you for paying a customer's bill."
"Apparently he disagreed."
"I own the building."
I stared.
"What?"
"The restaurant leases the space from one of my companies."
I looked around.
Of course.
Of course the terrifying man in the corner owned the building.
That explained the way Daniel had nearly fainted.
Adrian continued.
"I can make sure you're compensated for what happened."
I folded my arms.
"Compensated how?"
"Your lost wages. Legal assistance if necessary. A new position."
I stared.
"With you?"
"With one of my legitimate businesses."
I laughed.
"No."
He blinked.
"No?"
"Absolutely not."
"Why?"
"Because I've known you for forty minutes, and in that time I've learned you're a mafia boss, you own half the building, and someone thinks you murdered an elderly woman's son."
Adrian considered that.
"Fair."
I stared.
"You're not going to argue?"
"No."
That surprised me.
He continued.
"But I do need someone I can trust."
I shook my head.
"That's a terrible hiring strategy."
"Perhaps."
"Try LinkedIn."
For the first time, Adrian laughed.
A low, genuine laugh.
I stared.
Then smiled despite myself.
He looked at me.
"At least take my card."
I hesitated.
Then accepted it.
Black cardstock.
Silver lettering.
ADRIAN VOSS
No job title.
No company name.
Just a number.
I looked up.
"Subtle."
"I've been told."
I put the card in my purse.
Then headed toward the door.
Adrian called after me.
"Sophie."
I turned.
"Yes?"
"You were right."
I frowned.
"About what?"
He looked toward the private dining room.
"Power means nothing if you only use it for yourself."
I studied him.
Then nodded.
"Good."
I stepped outside.
The Chicago wind hit me immediately.
My car waited two blocks away.
My rent was still due.
My mother still needed medication.
And I was still unemployed.
But as I walked toward my Honda, I realized something strange.
For the first time that day, I didn't feel completely defeated.
That evening, my mother called.
"How was work, honey?"
I stared at the ceiling.
"Interesting."
"Interesting good or interesting bad?"
I sighed.
"Mom, I got fired."
Silence.
Then:
"Oh, Sophie."
I closed my eyes.
"I know."
"Are you okay?"
I swallowed.
"Not really."
She hesitated.
"Do you need money?"
I laughed softly.
"Mom, you barely have enough for your prescriptions."
"You're my daughter."
"And you're my mother."
She sighed.
Then said, "Come over tomorrow. I'll make soup."
I smiled.
"Okay."
After we hung up, I looked at Adrian's card.
Then placed it on the kitchen table.
I wasn't going to call.
Absolutely not.
At eleven forty-seven that night, my phone rang.
Unknown number.
I answered cautiously.
"Hello?"
A man's voice spoke.
"Miss Carter?"
My stomach tightened.
"Yes?"
"This is Detective Marcus Bell, Chicago Police Department."
I sat upright.
"Is something wrong?"
He hesitated.
"We need to ask you a few more questions about Daniel Mercer."
"Why?"
The detective's voice became serious.
"Because we found something in his office."
I swallowed.
"What?"
"A photograph of you."
Silence.
May you like
Then he added:
"And it was taken three weeks before today."
