Tonya recalled the sound that she’d dismissed as a ceiling leak. It had been inaudible when the kitchen was bustling or Philip was using a meat grinder, but perhaps that was because Melissa had lacked the strength to make a real racket. There were two of them now.

“Show me.”

Melissa didn’t seem to understand her question. Tonya heard her murmur. Her voice was growing more distant. She was walking away. Or maybe falling asleep.

“Melissa,” Tonya shouted. “Don’t leave.”

Something creaked in the darkness. A sliver of light snuck into the room. “It’s the toilet,” Melissa said. “I’ll show you how to make the noise.”

CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

IMANI

The alleyway behind the restaurant was always dark, permanently shaded by the tall buildings flanking its sides. However, the blackness Imani walked into was of a different character. The lights that would typically shine from the neighboring buildings had been extinguished, a consequence of office cleaning crews no longer needing to toil into the inky morning hours to prepare for daylight’s computer workers. A solitary streetlamp posted outside Banque Gauche provided the only light. It cast a swirling beam into the space that faded out several feet before the restaurant’s side door. This was a noir scene, Imani thought, and she wasn’t a detective or a femme fatale. She didn’t belong.

Imani pulled the door handle, half expecting it to be locked. She’d tried to time her arrival for after the cooks departed, but before Philip typically left. The coming conversation about her husband seeking Nate’s investment—and hiding it from her—was bound to get heated. Imani didn’t want Philip’s colleagues hearing them shout at each other, nor did she want the kids listening in. In fact, she didn’t even want them to know she and their father were having a serious discussion. She’d waited until they’d all retired to their rooms before leaving. With luck, they might not even realize that she’d gone.

The door gave way, revealing a fluorescent blaze that was too bright for what her eyes had already adjusted to. She shielded them with her hand as she stepped onto the restaurant’s tile floor. “Philip?” she yelled, announcing herself. “It’s me.”

Imani passed the cleaning closet with its sink and mop. Beside it, Tonya’s coat hung from a wall hook. Imani felt her stomach sink. She’d known that Tonya might be with Philip. When she’d heard the front door slam hours earlier, Imani had suspected that Tonya had gone to the restaurant to work and plead her case. Still, Imani had hoped that Tonya would have left by now and been en route to her house.

Imani removed her own coat and hung it beside Tonya’s before advancing deeper into the restaurant. “Hello?”