Chapter 1 - The Locked Door
The dead bolt slid into place at 7:15 on a gray Chicago morning.
June Holloway looked at the locked door, then at the man who had locked it.
She didn’t scream. She didn’t reach for the phone beneath the counter. At forty-eight, after twenty-three years of open flames, payroll disasters, broken freezers, and impossible customers, she had learned panic rarely fixed anything.
So she set the coffee pot back on its warmer.
The diner wasn’t open for another fifteen minutes. Outside, two men stood on the sidewalk without looking in.
That frightened her more than if they had.
Cormac Riley approached the counter.
June knew the name. Everyone in Chicago seemed to. Newspapers called what he controlled an organized-crime syndicate. People who valued their health usually called it nothing at all.
“We’re not open yet, Mr. Riley.”
His gray eyes settled on her.
“Your husband died six weeks ago.”
June’s fingers tightened around the dish towel.
“Heart attack.”
“Here?”
“Right behind the grill.”
Cormac was silent for a moment.
Then he said, “Raymond owed my organization two point four million dollars.”
The refrigerator hummed behind her.
June already knew about the debt. She’d found the hidden ledger after Ray’s funeral.
“I don’t have it.”
“I know.”
That answer made her look up.
Cormac reached inside his jacket.
June’s body went rigid.
But he didn’t pull out a weapon.
He placed a document on the counter.
June opened it.
A catering contract.
Forty private events. Eighteen months. Her normal rates—but twenty percent from every job would go toward Ray’s debt.
She slowly lowered the papers.
“You want me to cook for you?”
“For events associated with me.”
June held his gaze.
“And what happens if I say no?”
Cormac glanced toward the locked door.
May you like
His answer was quieter than a threat needed to be.
And somehow, that made it worse.
