Chapter 3 - The Stranger on the Night Shift
At 6:15 that evening, Madison returned to work.
She had slept less than four hours.
Pain had awakened her twice.
The second time, she had remained lying on her side staring at the wall while the stranger's question repeated in her mind.
Why can't you sit?
Nobody had asked like that.
Not even the doctor.
He had asked how much pain she felt.
Where she felt it.
Whether she could walk.
Whether she could bend.
But he had never watched her attempt to sit.
Madison entered Center Seven through the employee entrance and immediately sensed something different.
People were whispering.
Kelly hurried toward her.
“You picked a strange day to come back.”
“What happened?”
“Voss is here.”
Madison stopped.
Richard Voss rarely visited night operations.
“What does he want?”
“Nobody knows.”
Then Madison saw him.
Voss stood near the main office surrounded by managers.
Sixty-two.
Silver hair.
Expensive charcoal suit.
Perfect posture.
He looked more like a senator than a logistics executive.
His eyes found Madison.
He smiled.
Madison didn't.
Voss approached.
“Ms. Hayes.”
“Mr. Voss.”
“I heard you've been experiencing discomfort.”
Madison's stomach tightened.
“Who told you?”
“Human Resources.”
“I'm working.”
“That wasn't my question.”
“I was cleared.”
“Yes. I reviewed your medical report.”
Something about that bothered her.
“Why?”
“Because we care about our employees.”
Madison almost laughed.
Voss lowered his voice.
“You've also apparently been discussing the circumstances of your accident.”
There it was.
Madison looked directly at him.
“With whom?”
“People talk.”
“About what?”
“Missing records. Security footage.”
He smiled again.
“I'd be careful about encouraging rumors.”
Madison felt cold.
“I didn't encourage anything.”
“Excellent.”
He touched her shoulder.
Madison stepped away.
Voss's smile remained, but his eyes hardened.
“Take care of yourself.”
He walked away.
Kelly appeared beside Madison.
“What was that?”
“I don't know.”
But Madison did know one thing.
She had told Kelly about the deleted maintenance report only twelve hours earlier.
She had told the stranger almost nothing.
Yet Voss already knew people were asking questions.
Across the warehouse, Gabriel watched from behind a rack.
Tonight he wore the same maintenance coat.
He had deliberately returned undercover.
Only three people knew.
Voss wasn't one of them.
Gabriel had spent the afternoon reviewing Center Seven's records.
What he found disturbed him.
Three safety complaints had disappeared during the previous year.
Two employees had accepted settlements after injuries.
A forklift mechanic had been terminated after claiming inspection records were falsified.
Then there was Madison.
Her case was different.
Because somebody had removed physical evidence.
Gabriel watched Voss walk toward his office.
Then he watched Madison.
She stood perfectly still.
But her face had changed.
Fear.
Gabriel approached.
“You came back.”
Madison turned.
“You again.”
“You sound disappointed.”
“I still don't know your name.”
“Gabe.”
It wasn't technically a lie.
“Gabe what?”
“Later.”
Madison folded her arms.
“You ask a lot of questions for someone who doesn't answer any.”
“Fair.”
“Why are you here?”
“Inspection.”
“Of what?”
“Everything.”
Her eyes narrowed.
“Are you investigating my accident?”
Gabriel studied her.
“Would you like me to?”
Madison looked toward Voss's office.
“No.”
That surprised him.
“Why?”
“Because people who ask questions around here disappear.”
“Who disappeared?”
“Trevor Cole.”
Gabriel's attention sharpened.
“You knew him?”
“Barely.”
“Tell me.”
Madison hesitated.
Then she described the bolts.
The warehouse assistant.
The object kicked beneath the rack.
Gabriel listened without interrupting.
When she finished, he asked, “Why isn't that in your statement?”
“I told the supervisor.”
“Which supervisor?”
Madison pointed across the floor.
Daniel Mercer.
Floor manager.
Gabriel knew him.
Twenty-two years with the company.
“Mercer told me I was confused from the fall,” Madison said.
“Were you?”
“No.”
“You're certain?”
“I can still hear those bolts hitting the concrete.”
Gabriel looked toward Platform Seven.
“Show me where.”
They walked together.
Madison moved slowly.
Gabriel adjusted his pace without mentioning it.
At the platform, she stopped.
Her breathing changed.
“You don't have to go closer.”
“I’m okay.”
“You say that often.”
“So people stop asking.”
Gabriel glanced at her.
That answer stayed with him.
Madison pointed beneath a rack.
“Trevor kicked something there.”
Gabriel crouched.
Nothing.
The floor had been cleaned hundreds of times since the accident.
Then he noticed a narrow gap between the rack base and concrete.
Something reflected light.
He reached underneath.
His fingers found metal.
Gabriel pulled it out.
A washer.
Thick industrial steel.
Madison stared.
“That could be from anything.”
“Yes.”
Gabriel turned it over.
A smear of blue paint covered one edge.
The Platform Seven railing was blue.
Madison stopped breathing.
Gabriel stood.
“Don't tell anyone about this.”
“Why?”
“Because if somebody deliberately removed those anchors, we don't know who they are.”
“You believe me?”
“Yes.”
The answer came so quickly that Madison looked stunned.
Gabriel put the washer into his pocket.
“Go back to your station.”
“What are you going to do?”
“Find the rest.”
He waited until she left.
Then he made a call.
“Get forensic engineering here quietly.”
“Tonight?”
“Now.”
He disconnected.
A sound came from above.
Gabriel looked up.
Platform Seven.
A shadow moved behind the railing.
Then something heavy dropped.
Gabriel jumped backward.
A steel tool case slammed onto the concrete exactly where he had been standing.
Workers shouted.
Madison spun around fifty feet away.
Gabriel stared upward.
The platform was empty.
He looked at the tool case.
Then at Madison.
This was no longer a twenty-one-day-old cover-up.
May you like
Whoever had sabotaged the railing was still inside the warehouse.
And they had just tried to warn Gabriel away.
