Chương 3
Celeste told her she had sixty seconds to get the animal outside.
Sadie refused.
The guests had begun arriving from the cocktail room. Rufus tried to stand when Celeste approached. His back legs gave out. Celeste’s shoe struck his ribs.
Sadie shoved the shoe away.
Celeste kicked Sadie in the shoulder, then pressed down.
“That’s when Mr. Croft entered?” Officer Brooks asked.
“Yes.”
“Did you strike Ms. Vane?”
“I pushed her foot.”
“Before or after she kicked the dog?”
“After.”
“Did the dog attempt to bite her?”
“No.”
“Growl?”
“He made a sound because he couldn’t breathe.”
Officer Brooks wrote slowly. “Who else saw the first kick?”
“Owen. Niko. Two kitchen staff. Maybe guests near the entrance.”
“Names?”
Sadie gave the ones she knew.
Officer Brooks stopped writing. “Ms. Mercer, I need to ask whether you were aware of the relationship between Ms. Vane and Mr. Croft.”
“They were engaged.”
“Did you know Mr. Croft before today?”
“No.”
“Have you ever received money from him or anyone associated with him?”
Sadie laughed once, without humor. “I can barely get my paycheck from that restaurant.”
The officer’s face remained neutral. “I have to ask.”
“Then ask her why she knew the dog.”
“I will.”
“And ask Owen why he told everyone the cameras were being serviced.”
Officer Brooks raised her eyes. “When did he say that?”
“Right after the glasses broke. One of the guests asked if everything was recorded. Owen said the east dining room cameras were offline.”
“Before Mr. Croft arrived?”
“Yes.”
The officer added a line to her notes.
When Sadie came out, the waiting room had changed. Two more of Julian’s men stood near the elevators. A young woman from the hospital billing department spoke in a low voice with Julian. He had removed his overcoat and folded it over one arm. Without it, he looked less theatrical and more tired.
Dr. Shah entered.
“Rufus has two fractured ribs, a punctured lung, and internal bleeding near the spleen. Some of the bleeding began before the incident at the restaurant. The impact there may have worsened it.”
Sadie gripped the back of a chair.
“Can you save him?”
“We’re placing a chest tube and taking him into surgery. His age raises the risk.”
“How old?”
“Twelve, according to the chip.”
Julian looked at the closed doors behind the veterinarian. “Do it.”
Dr. Shah did not respond to his tone. “We will, but I need you to understand that he may not survive anesthesia.”
Julian’s thumb moved once along the edge of his folded coat.
“Do it,” he repeated, quieter.
Sadie sat down after the veterinarian left. Her legs had begun shaking badly enough that standing required attention she no longer had. She noticed a rip near the knee of her black trousers and a smear of lipstick on her wrist that must have come from Celeste’s shoe or hand. The details felt stupidly important.
Julian remained standing.
“You recognized him,” Sadie said.
“Yes.”
“From where?”
“Iris worked for my family for thirty-two years.”
“As what?”
“Whatever was needed. Housekeeper. Cook. Nurse when my mother got sick. The person who told me when I was lying badly.”
Sadie pictured the old mastiff lifting his eyes toward the entrance.
“Rufus is hers?”
“He was my mother’s. After she died, Iris took him.”
“When was the last time you saw either of them?”
Julian’s pause lasted too long.
“Eight months.”
Sadie looked away.
He heard what she did not say.
“I made arrangements for her.”
“Arrangements aren’t visits.”
“No.”
The answer was so direct that it took some force out of her anger.
Her phone began vibrating in the pocket of her apron. It was The Harrington. Owen Keel’s name appeared on the screen.
She answered.
“Sadie.” His voice had the careful softness managers used before doing something cruel. “I understand emotions were high.”
“You watched her kick me.”
“I did not see physical contact clearly.”
“You were four feet away.”
“There were multiple moving bodies.”
“There were two. One of them was kneeling.”
Owen exhaled. “You abandoned your assigned station, broke service inventory, introduced an animal into a food-service environment, disobeyed direct instructions, and initiated contact with the event host.”
“The animal introduced himself.”
“This isn’t a joke.”
“No.”
“We’re terminating your employment effective immediately.”
Julian turned his face slightly toward her.
Sadie closed her eyes.
Rent was due in nine days. Her checking account contained three hundred eighty-four dollars. She had worked at The Harrington for fourteen months, long enough to know which guests tipped and which pretended not to see the gratuity line. She had endured Owen correcting her pronunciation of wines he could not identify blindfolded. She had stood through double shifts with a fever. She had missed her younger sister’s graduation dinner because Celeste added sixteen guests to a fundraiser at the last minute.
“You fired me in the dining room,” Sadie said.
“That statement was not made by management.”
“She owns part of the restaurant.”
“She is an investor.”
“So she fired me emotionally and you’re doing the paperwork.”
“Human resources will send information regarding final pay and return of property.”
“My apron is in surgery.”
Owen went quiet.
Sadie stared at the blood on her sleeve. A laugh escaped before she could stop it.
“What?” Owen asked.
“Nothing.”
“There will also be a separation agreement. I strongly recommend that you review it carefully before discussing tonight’s private event publicly.”
“Are you threatening me?”
“I’m explaining that guests have privacy rights.”
“The dog didn’t.”
She ended the call.
The elderly man with the golden retriever pretended to remain asleep. Julian took the chair across from Sadie.
“How much do they owe you?”
She looked at him sharply.
“That wasn’t an offer,” he said. “It was a question.”
“I don’t know yet.”
“Don’t sign anything.”
“I know.”
“Do you?”
Sadie tucked her phone away. “I have been fired before.”
“For helping an animal?”
May you like
“For losing my temper with someone hurting one.”
That seemed to interest him.
