CHAPTER TWO: THE MAN WHO COULD CALL
Nobody moved for several seconds.
The woman near the window slowly put down her water glass.
Victor took one step toward the old man and then stopped.
“Mr. Mercer,” he said, “this is an internal staffing matter.”
“You made it a public spectacle,” the stranger answered.
“That was your decision.”
Ethan looked between them.
He knew the name Mercer from the street outside, but half the buildings downtown carried names from families long dead.
Gideon Mercer appeared to be in his seventies.
His blue eyes were alert, his hands unsteady, and his shoes worn at the heels.
“You’re making a mistake,” Victor said quietly.
“I made a mistake when I believed your last compliance report,” Gideon replied.
Victor glanced toward the dining room.
“We should discuss this privately.”
“You have been asking everyone else to speak privately for months.”
Marta stepped out of the kitchen.
“What compliance report?” she asked.
Victor pointed at her.
“Get back to work.”
Gideon raised his hand.
“She may stay wherever she chooses.”
Ethan felt the unpleasant sensation of becoming an object in an argument whose history he did not know.
“Who are you?” he asked.
Gideon looked at him at last.
“I’m the independent receiver appointed to supervise this business while its ownership dispute is resolved.”
Ethan knew what a receiver was only in the vaguest sense.
Gideon explained that the bistro’s finances and operations were being supervised under a court order after its former partners accused one another of diverting customer deposits.
“Victor still manages daily service,
” Gideon said.
“He doesn’t have the authority to hide operational decisions from me.”
“One firing doesn’t close a restaurant,” Victor snapped.
“No,” Gideon said.
“One firing doesn’t.”
He turned toward the tables along the northern wall.
They were set for tomorrow’s private dinner, with black place cards already tucked into brass holders.
“But tomorrow’s memorial event does,” he continued.
Victor reached for the cards.
Gideon stopped him with a glance.
“I have asked twice for the attendee list and the consent records.”
“The event is private.”
“The deposit money is held under a court-supervised account.”
“You have no idea what you’re stopping.”
“That’s precisely the problem.”
A woman at the front table stood.
“My family booked two seats for tomorrow,” she said.
“Is our dinner canceled?”
Gideon answered gently.
“No decision about your money has been made.”
“I have requested that the premises remain closed to service while we establish what people were promised.”
The woman looked at Victor.
“You told me the event was approved.”
Victor opened his mouth.
No words came out.
Gideon turned to Ethan.
“You have no obligation to stay.”
Ethan could still leave with his jacket, catch the last bus, and find another restaurant before the weekend.
But Marta was watching him, and Levi was watching the mysterious black place cards.
The old man’s dinner check sat on the counter between them.
“I want to know what happened,” Ethan said.
Gideon nodded.
“Then ask the question that matters.”
Ethan faced Victor.
“Whose names are on those cards?”
Victor’s expression changed from anger to something closer to fear.
