CHAPTER TWO — THE BLUE FOLDERS
Miriam Calder arrived in a blue hatchback with one headlight taped at the edge and a cardboard box on the passenger seat.
She was about forty, wore a wool hat, and stepped onto the pavement carrying a stack of folders tied with string.
The old man introduced himself as Walter Finch.
Miriam shook Ethan’s hand and looked at the restaurant’s entrance without hiding her anger.
“Victor still has them inside?” she asked.
“Some of them,” Walter replied.
Ethan had no idea what they meant.
Miriam opened a folder against the hood of her car and showed him a photograph of six teenagers in white aprons.
Lacey stood in the back row beside a boy named Nico, who washed dishes at Victor’s restaurant every Saturday.
“They were enrolled in the Harbor Skills Kitchen program,
” Miriam said.
“What’s that?”
“A paid apprenticeship for young people who haven’t had a straightforward path into work.”
Ethan saw the word paid and felt a knot form in his stomach.
Lacey had told him she was volunteering because the school required practical hours.
Nico had said something different.
He thought the restaurant was holding his wages until graduation.
“The program funds an hourly wage and an instructor at approved kitchens,” Miriam continued.
“Victor submitted certificates saying all six trainees completed a hundred and twenty hours under his supervision.”
“He doesn’t supervise anything,” Ethan said.
“That’s what we’ve been trying to establish.”
Walter leaned against the car while Miriam explained that she was the program’s field coordinator, not a police officer and not a restaurant owner.
The kitchen placements were run through a small regional training center that relied on restaurant partners because its teaching kitchen held only eight students.
Victor had been praised for accepting trainees when other restaurants declined.
The center had issued grants based on his signed attendance sheets.
The trainees themselves had received almost nothing.
“Why did you come dressed like that?” Ethan asked Walter.
Walter touched the tear in his sleeve.
“Because this is my coat.”
“You have a phone hidden in it.”
“My daughter worries when I travel without one.”
“Then what were you doing inside?”
Walter looked embarrassed for the first time.
“I wanted to see what happened to a guest who couldn’t meet the price of lunch.”
Ethan stiffened.
“You were testing us.”
“I was looking for Lacey,” Walter said.
“When Victor saw me waiting, he told her not to approach my table.”
“And you let me get fired?”
Walter did not defend himself immediately.
“I didn’t know what he would do until he did it.”
“You knew enough to bring folders.”
“I knew about the program,” Walter replied.
“I did not know you existed until you brought me food.”
The honesty sounded inadequate, and Ethan wanted him to understand that.
“Don’t turn me into a story about generosity,” Ethan said.
“I need my paycheck.”
Miriam closed the folder.
“We can help you pursue the wages Victor owes, but the first thing I need is to make sure nobody is still working here without pay.”
The kitchen door opened behind them.
Lacey appeared carrying a black trash bag nearly as tall as she was.
When she saw the folders, she dropped the bag and hurried toward the parking lot.
Victor emerged a second later.
“Lacey, where are you going?”
She froze with one hand on the car door.
Victor spotted Walter and walked straight toward him.
“I told you this morning that you weren’t welcome back,” he said.
“You told me I couldn’t speak to the apprentices,” Walter replied.
“They’re my employees.”
Miriam held out a business card.
“Then you can explain why your invoices call them grant-funded trainees.”
Victor looked at the card without touching it.
“You people keep harassing businesses that are trying to help.”
“We’re here to discuss their wages and training hours,” Miriam answered.
“Not on my property.”
Ethan stood between the curb and the doorway.
He knew he could leave, and nothing stopped him except the knowledge that Lacey would have to face Victor alone.
“Lacey,” he asked, “did he tell you not to talk to Walter?”
She glanced at Victor.
The manager’s expression did not change, but his right hand clenched around the door handle.
“He said my certificate would be canceled if I missed today’s shift,” Lacey whispered.
Miriam opened her mouth, and Victor slammed the door before she could respond.
The noise made Lacey flinch.
Walter bent and picked up the trash bag she had dropped.
The bag split along one seam, scattering clean pastry boxes into the parking lot.
Inside one box was a printed sticker naming a banquet company Ethan had never heard of.
Walter examined the sticker and frowned.
“That’s tomorrow’s event,” he said.
“What event?” Miriam asked.
“The graduation dinner.”
