Chapter 2 - THE BROTHER WHO NEVER CAME HOME
Dwayne had no memory of Nathan Lynwood.
That bothered him more than it should have.
Men disappeared around his docks.
Usually men who had chosen dangerous loyalties, stolen money, or crossed people more violent than Dwayne.
But Addison’s brother had been twenty-seven.
Night inventory clerk.
No criminal record.
No known debts.
Dwayne pushed his untouched steak aside.
“What date?”
Addison told him.
Simon’s face changed.
Dwayne noticed.
“You remember.”
Simon shook his head too quickly.
“No.”
Addison smiled without humor.
“That’s interesting.”
Dwayne turned toward Simon.
“What happened that night?”
“Nothing.”
“Wrong answer.”
Simon shifted in the booth.
Addison reached into her clutch again.
This time she produced a folded shipping manifest.
Pier Nine.
Timestamped 2:13 a.m.
Nathan’s employee signature appeared near the bottom.
Below it was another signature.
Simon Fletcher.
Silence.
Dwayne looked at his oldest friend.
“You were there.”
Simon’s jaw tightened.
“I inspected a shipment.”
“What shipment?”
“Machinery.”
Addison interrupted.
“Antique rifles.”
Simon’s face drained.
Dwayne’s expression hardened.
Cross Logistics moved contraband.
But weapons trafficking was one line Dwayne had never allowed.
Too much federal attention.
Too many dead civilians.
“Explain.”
Simon lowered his voice.
“It wasn’t ours.”
“Whose?”
“I don’t know.”
Addison laughed softly.
“Again. Interesting.”
She pulled another page.
Container ownership had been routed through three offshore companies.
Final beneficiary:
Fletcher Maritime Holdings.
Simon stood.
Dwayne’s voice stopped him.
“Sit.”
Simon did.
Dwayne looked at Addison.
“You knew all this before you applied?”
“Not all.”
“How much?”
“That Nathan found an illegal shipment connected to Cross Logistics. That someone erased nine minutes of camera footage. That he called me at 2:17 a.m. and never answered again.”
“So you came here.”
“Yes.”
“To investigate me.”
“Yes.”
“And decided dressing like a librarian would help.”
“People reveal incredible things around women they don’t notice.”
Dwayne remembered conversations held outside her desk.
Names.
Routes.
Arguments.
Threats.
He felt something between admiration and fury.
“Did you find Nathan?”
“No.”
That answer was the only one that sounded fragile.
Then Addison slid one final item toward him.
A photograph from a warehouse security camera.
Nathan.
Alive.
Timestamped six months after his disappearance.
Dwayne leaned closer.
“Where?”
“Brooklyn.”
“Whose warehouse?”
Addison’s gaze moved to Simon.
“His.”
Simon stood again.
This time he did not wait for permission.
He ran.
Dwayne’s men intercepted him before the restaurant exit.
The detectives at the bar stood too.
Everything happened at once.
Dwayne remained seated.
Watching Simon.
Watching Addison.
Then Simon shouted:
“Nathan wasn’t supposed to see her!”
Addison froze.
Dwayne’s voice became lethal.
“See who?”
Simon looked at him.
May you like
And answered with the one name Dwayne had never expected.
“Your wife.”
