Chapter 6 - THE WALK-IN FREEZER
The Town Car idled three streets away from the restaurant. I slipped through the snowy alleyway, pressing my back against the frozen brick wall of Harrison's Grill.
Through the exhaust vents, I could smell frying oil and hear the muffled chaos of the lunch rush. The kitchen staff would be shouting orders, and Darren would be busy pacing the dining room floor, playing the role of the perfect manager.
My hands shook violently as I slid my iron key into the delivery door lock. It turned with a heavy click.
I slipped inside, instantly hit by the wall of heat and the smell of grilled onions. I crept down the back hallway, keeping my head ducked below the sightline of the small kitchen window. The office door was shut.
I turned the knob. It was unlocked.
I darted inside and closed the door behind me, plunging the small room into shadows. The refrigerator hummed through the wall, exactly as it had the night Darren fired me.
I dropped to my knees behind Darren’s desk and jammed the brass key into the lock of the bottom right drawer. It slid in perfectly. I turned it, and the drawer popped open.
Inside, beneath a stack of blank employee write-up forms, was a thick manila folder labeled LAND ACQUISITION - R.H.
I opened the folder. Sitting right on top was a signed, notarized contract between Darren Cole and Richard Harrison. It detailed exactly how Darren would systematically ruin the restaurant’s health inspections, inflate food costs, and trigger a foreclosure, guaranteeing him a massive payout when the land was sold.
But that wasn't the worst thing in the folder.
Tucked beneath the contract was a printed email from Darren to Richard, dated at 1:15 AM last night.
The old man showed up. Recognized me. I dragged him out into the storm. He won't survive the night in these temperatures. Problem solved. Proceed with the auction today at 3 PM.
Attempted murder. It was right there in black and white.
I shoved the folder inside my coat and turned to leave.
Suddenly, the office door handle rattled.
Panic seized my throat. I couldn't hide under the desk; Darren would see me instantly. I bolted to the opposite side of the room, yanked open the heavy, insulated door of the restaurant's walk-in meat freezer, and threw myself inside just as the office door swung open.
I pulled the heavy freezer door shut, leaving it open just a crack so I could see out into the office.
It wasn't Darren who walked in.
It was a tall, sharply dressed man in a cashmere overcoat. He had the same jawline as Frank, but his eyes were cold and calculating. Richard Harrison.
"Darren!" Richard barked, slamming his fist on the desk.
A moment later, Darren rushed into the office, locking the door behind him. "Mr. Harrison! What are you doing here? The lunch rush is—"
"You told me my father was dead!" Richard roared, grabbing Darren by the collar of his shirt. "You sent me an email at 1 AM saying he froze to death in the alley! I just got off the phone with the hospital. A nurse checked in a John Doe matching his exact description twenty minutes ago!"
Darren’s face went chalk white. "That's impossible! I checked his pulse! He was gone!"
"You're an idiot, Darren!" Richard shoved him backward. "If my father wakes up and talks to the authorities before the 3 PM auction, this whole deal is dead, and we both go to federal prison!"
"I have the contract!" Darren stammered, dropping to his knees and yanking on the bottom right drawer.
He froze. The drawer was unlocked. The folder was missing.
Darren’s head slowly turned. He looked at the wet, snowy footprints I had tracked onto the office carpet. Footprints that led directly to the walk-in freezer door.
Through the tiny crack, Darren’s eyes met mine.
His face twisted into something monstrous. He didn't say a word. He lunged across the room, slammed the freezer door completely shut, and I heard the heavy exterior deadbolt slide into place with a terrifying clack.
"What are you doing?" Richard yelled outside.
"Someone is in the freezer!" Darren shouted back. "They stole the documents!"
I pushed against the heavy metal door with all my strength, but it wouldn't budge. I reached for the interior emergency release latch—a large red button designed to prevent exactly this from happening.
I slammed my fist against the button. It didn't move. Darren had jammed a metal screwdriver into the latch mechanism from the outside.
I was locked inside a commercial freezer running at negative ten degrees Fahrenheit.
"Darren, let me out!" I screamed, banging my fists against the thick steel.
Muffled through the door, I heard Darren’s voice. "There's a gas leak in the kitchen! Evacuate the restaurant!"
He was clearing the building. He wasn't going to let me out. He was going to leave me in the dark to freeze to death, just like he had tried to do to Frank.
The lights inside the freezer suddenly shut off. Complete, suffocating darkness swallowed me. The massive cooling fans roared to life, blasting freezing air directly onto my skin.
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I hugged my arms around my chest, my breath immediately turning to thick clouds of ice. I had the documents. I had the proof.
But if I couldn't get out of this freezer in the next twenty minutes, none of it was going to matter.
