Chapter 5

Celeste opened her folder flat on the marble.

She didn't hand him a driver's license. She turned the folder so the overhead light fell straight down the page, and there, under a clear sleeve, lay a certified copy of a county deed with the recording stamp in the corner - and behind it, a lease amendment with a notary block on the last page.

"Emmett," she said. "Read the second line."

His eyes went to the paper. Then to her face. Then back to the paper, and stayed there.

He had worked the Arcady site for six years. He had stood in the property office at Broughton Commons the previous fall, cap in hand, while a woman in a wool coat asked him whether the loading-bay cameras were pointed where he said they were pointed. He had heard the property manager call her Ms. Marlow all afternoon.

He took off his cap.

"Ms. Marlow," he said. "I didn't know you were here."

Wade's pen stopped above the journal.

"You know her?"

Doyle didn't answer him. He was still reading - Owner of Record: Celeste Marlow, Trustee, Marcher Commercial Trust - and then the header above it, the trust's name, and then, because he was a thorough man, he looked up at the small brass plaque beside the vestibule he had walked past every shift for six years without once reading.

"Mr. Banner," he said slowly, "that bay she's parked in is the guest bay for this property."

"It's a dealership guest bay."

"It's a property guest bay." Doyle set the boot down on the floor, quietly, the way you set down something you have decided not to use.

Celeste turned the lease amendment toward Wade and ran her finger down to a numbered paragraph.

"Section nine," she said. "Falsified delivery records. Abuse of a tenant's customer. Either one is grounds for immediate termination of tenancy, at the landlord's sole discretion, with thirty days to vacate the premises."

Wade laughed once - a dry sound with nothing in it. "You can't be serious."

"I'm extremely serious." She took a pen from her folder, black, heavy, and signed her name at the bottom of a single printed page clipped behind the amendment. Then she held it out to Doyle. "Would you give this to him, please."

Doyle crossed the three steps to the desk and set the notice in front of Wade. Lease Violation - Notice of Termination of Tenancy. Beneath that, in the space for the reason, in a clean hand: Falsified delivery records. Abuse of a tenant's customer. Failure to honor a paid contract.

Wade stared at it. Then he picked up his phone and turned away, dropping his voice into the register men use when they are asking a superior for cover.

"Grady. Grady, I need you at the store. Right now. We've got a situation with the landlord."

Outside, headlights swept across the showroom glass and threw long white bars over the marble floor.