Chapter 3: The First Warning

Amara arrived at the restaurant twelve minutes early, and she chose a table near the window, ordered a glass of water and placed her phone beside it.

The message from the previous night was still saved in her gallery.

Ask your ex-husband what he did at 11:47 p.m.

She had spent most of the night trying to understand it, and by morning, she had stopped wondering who sent it and started looking for someone who might know the answer.

That was how she found Eli Carter, a former internal auditor at Cross Meridian. He had left the company shortly after the warehouse disaster and, according to the little information Amara could find, had never worked for another major logistics firm.

At 1:12 p.m., the restaurant door opened, and a man in a dark jacket entered. He scanned the room before he walked towards her table.

“Amara Quinn?”

She stood.

“Eli Carter?”

He nodded and took the seat opposite her.

“You look different from your company photograph,” he said.

“You look like someone who doesn’t trust restaurant cameras.”

His eyes moved briefly towards the ceiling.

“Old habit.”

A waiter approached him, and Eli declined the menu, asking for water instead.

Amara waited until the waiter left.

“You said you had something for me.”

“I said I had information.”

“What’s the difference?”

“The difference is that information can be wrong. Evidence has to survive questions.”

He placed a small envelope on the table but kept his hand over it.

Amara looked at it.

“What is it?”

“Copies of internal audit reports. Some financial record, and a few system logs.”

“From the warehouse?”

“From before the warehouse.”

She leaned forward.

“Explain.”

Eli glanced around before lowering his voice.

“Three weeks before the fire, I noticed unusual activity in the AEGIS system. Safety alerts were being suppressed. Shipment routes were being changed after approval, and some of the records didn’t match the original entries.”

“Who authorised the changes?”

“That’s what I was trying to find out.”

“And?”

“I found payments connected to the departments responsible for those changes.”

Amara’s fingers tightened around her glass.

“Victor?”

Eli didn’t answer immediately.

“I raised the issue internally. Two days later, I was told to stop asking questions.”

“By whom?”

“My supervisor. He said the changes had been approved by senior management.”

“Did you believe him?”

Eli gave a humourless smile.

“I was an auditor, Ms Quinn. Believing people wasn’t part of my job.”

“Then why didn’t you go to the police?”

“I tried.”

He pulled his hand away from the envelope.

“The report disappeared. The officer who received it stopped returning my calls. A week later, I was dismissed for misconduct.”

Amara stared at him.

“And you kept copies?”

“Not all of them.”

He slid the envelope across the table.

“I kept enough to know the official report was a lie.”

Amara opened it.

The first page contained a list of shipment numbers. Several entries had been marked with red lines, and beneath them were dates and approval references.

She recognised one of the system codes.

Her code.

“Who gave you access to these records?”

“I already told you. I was an internal auditor.”

“This entry was altered after the original approval.”

“Exactly.”

She looked up.

“Can you prove who changed it?”

“Not with those copies alone.”

Eli reached into his jacket and brought out a small flash drive.

“This has the original system logs. I recovered them before my access was revoked.”

Amara stared at the device.

“Why are you giving this to me?”

“Because your brother came to me.”

Amara’s fingers tightened around her glass.

“When?”

“Two days before the fire.”

The noise around them faded.

“What did he want?”

“He said someone was using AEGIS to move shipments without triggering the safety checks. He had found discrepancies in the system and wanted me to help him trace them.”

Amara was silent for a moment.

“Did he mention Victor?”

Eli looked down at the flash drive.

“He mentioned a name.”

“Whose?”

Before he could answer, his eyes shifted towards the restaurant entrance, and his expression changed.

Amara followed his gaze.

Two men had entered, and one wore a grey jacket. The other had a dark cap pulled low over his forehead.

They didn’t look at the menu board, their eyes went straight to Eli.

Eli pushed the flash drive into her palm.

“Put that away.”

Amara closed her fingers around it.

“What is it?”

“Don’t look at them.”

The man in the grey jacket started walking towards their table, then Eli stood.

“Get down!”

A sharp crash came from behind Amara, and the restaurant’s front window shattered.

People screamed.

Amara dropped beneath the table as glass scattered across the floor. A chair toppled beside her, and someone shouted for security.

“Eli!”

She crawled towards the edge of the table, but he was already moving.

One of the men grabbed his jacket, but Eli twisted free and slammed his elbow into the man’s face.

The second man reached for him at almost the same time but Eli shoved a chair into his path and ran towards the kitchen.

Amara tried to stand, but something struck her shoulder, and pain shot down her arm.

She stumbled against the table and fell back to the floor. That was when a hand grabbed her bag, but she held on.

“Let go!”

The strap snapped, and her bag disappeared.

Amara reached for the flash drive, but it was no longer in her hand. She remembered Eli had turned back for something, but she didn’t see what he retrieved. Her eyes darted across the floor, and the man in the dark cap was standing over her.

He looked at her for a moment, then he crouched.

“Where is it?”

Amara stared at him.

“Where’s what?”

He grabbed the front of her blouse.

“The drive.”

Before she could answer, the waiter rushed towards them, gripping a metal serving tray with both hands.

“Get away from her!” The man released Amara and turned towards him. The waiter raised the tray, forcing him to take a step back.

Amara rolled onto her side, clutching her shoulder, and by the time she looked up again, both men were gone.

So was Eli.

<

>

The hospital smelled of disinfectant, and Amara sat on the edge of a bed while a nurse wrapped a bandage around her shoulder. A doctor had removed several small pieces of glass from her upper arm and confirmed that nothing was broken.

“Try not to strain it,” the nurse said, and Amara nodded.

Her phone lay on the bedside table so she reached for it with her uninjured hand.

Four missed calls.

All from an unknown number. She ignored them and opened her messages.

There was nothing from Eli, and she tried calling him, but the call went straight to voicemail.

“Eli, it’s Amara. Call me as soon as you get this.”

She ended the call as a nurse entered carrying a tablet.

“Ms Quinn?”

“Yes?”

“We need to confirm something about your admission.”

Amara looked at her.

“What?”

“Someone called earlier requesting information about your medical records.”

Her stomach tightened.

“Who?”

“They claimed to be a representative from your insurance provider.”

“I don’t have an insurance representative.”

The nurse frowned.

“They already had your full name and date of birth.”

“Did you give them anything?”

“No. Hospital policy requires patient consent before releasing records.”

Amara stared at her.

“When did they call?”

The nurse checked the tablet.

“About twenty minutes ago.”

“Did they leave a number?”

“There’s a number recorded here.”

She turned the tablet around, and Amara took a photograph of it.

The number was unfamiliar.

“Thank you.”

The nurse nodded and left as Amara looked at the screen.

Someone had followed her from the restaurant, or someone had known where she would be taken.

Either way, they had wasted no time.

By the time Amara returned to the hotel, the sky had darkened.

She stepped out of the elevator and walked towards her room.

Her keycard flashed red.

She tried again.

Red.

A frown crossed her face as she knocked.

There was no answer so She called the front desk.

“Good evening. I’m having trouble accessing my room.”

“Certainly, ma’am. May I have your room number?”

She gave it, and there was a short pause.

“I’m sorry, ma’am. Our records show your room was accessed earlier this afternoon.”

Amara’s fingers tightened around the phone.

“By whom?”

“Housekeeping, according to the system.”

“I didn’t request housekeeping.”

“Let me check that for you.”

Amara waited.

The receptionist returned a moment later.

“There’s no housekeeping request recorded, ma’am.”

“Then who entered my room?”

“I’ll send someone up immediately.”

The call ended, and Amara stepped away from the door.

A hotel employee arrived with a master key a few minutes later.

“I’m sorry about this,” he said.

“Just open it.”

He swiped the card, and the lock clicked.

Amara pushed the door open, and the room was quiet.

Too quiet.

Her suitcase lay open on the floor. Clothes had been pulled out and scattered across the bed. The bedside drawers stood open, and papers covered the carpet.

She didn’t move. Her eyes travelled towards the desk, the laptop was still there, and her wallet was untouched.

The jewellery box remained on the dresser.

Whoever had entered hadn’t come for money, they had come looking for something.

“Ma’am?” the employee asked.

“Please leave.”

“Are you sure?”

“Please.”

He stepped aside but remained outside the doorway. “I’ll wait here until security arrives, ma’am.”

Amara nodded and shut the door.

Then she moved through the room, checking each drawer and every place she had left something important.

Her eyes settled on the small wooden box beneath the bedside table.

She crouched and pulled it out. The lid was open.

Inside were old photographs, a folded newspaper clipping and a few handwritten notes, but the black notebook was gone.

Noah’s notebook.

Amara’s fingers went cold.

She turned the box upside down, but there was nothing..

She searched beneath the bed, inside the wardrobe and behind the desk.

It wasn’t there.

She sat back on her heels, staring at the empty box. The notebook had been with her for three years.

Noah’s handwriting filled its pages. His observations, his questions, the things he had been too afraid to report officially.

She had never shown it to anyone, not even Damian.

Her phone vibrated, and a message appeared from an unknown number.

“You were warned. Stop digging.”

Amara stared at the screen, then she looked at the open box.

The people behind the warehouse disaster knew she had started investigating.

They knew about Eli.

They knew about the notebook, and they were close enough to enter her room.

She slowly stood, and her injured shoulder throbbed beneath the bandage.

She picked up her phone and dialled a number.

This time, she didn’t call the police. She called Eli again.

The phone rang.

Once.

Twice.

Three times.

Then someone answered, but it wasn’t Eli.

A man’s voice came through the speaker.

“Ms Quinn?”

Amara froze.

“Who is this?”

A short silence followed, then the man spoke.

“Your friend should have stayed out of this.”

Then the call ended.

Amara lowered the phone, and her eyes moved to the empty wooden box.

Eli had escaped with the flash drive, but she had no idea whether he was still alive.