Chapter Six - Danny

There’s an envelope with the county seal on it sitting in our mail, and I open it with a frown, concerned. It’s a letter from the health inspector, setting a mandatory inspection date for exactly three days before the Naval Academy Ball. I stare at the letter in disbelief, not sure if I should be furious or not.

This can’t be a coincidence. The missing money. A health inspection that could theoretically shut us down days before the biggest event of my career and end the Dock’s End’s existence. This could all ruin us, and I can’t shake the feeling that ruining us is exactly someone’s plan.

When Anthony, my former assistant chief, had been let go, it had been with a flurry of words and insults, him accusing Hank and me of everything he could think of. In truth, he had been short-tempered, rude to customers, hard to work with, and a heavy hand in the kitchen who burnt dishes almost as often as he perfected them. Letting him go hadn’t been personal like he’d insisted it was, but it was not without hard feelings on my end, too. What should have been an uncomfortable but professional conversation had turned into him calling me a fucking impossible control freak and asserting that Hank and I were going to run our damn business into the ground if we didn’t let in some fresh ideas.

He’s working at a more casual restaurant a few blocks away now, but he still has friends on our staff, and I’m almost sure he’s behind a bad internet review we got a month or so ago. I had thought that was it, that trashing us online was as far as he’d go. Now I think I might have underestimated his anger.

I take the inspection letter down to Hank’s office, wondering what we could have done differently to have avoided this.

“An inspection. A damn inspection three days before the Ball,” I say, walking into Hank’s office and handing him the letter.

“We’ve passed every inspection we’ve ever had with no issue,” Hank says, looking at me like he doesn’t understand why this is a big deal.

“You don’t think it’s strange that we have one, completely out of nowhere, just three days before the ball?” I ask, sitting down in one of Hank’s chairs and rubbing my eyes.

“That’s how random inspections work. You and I have both been in this business long enough to know they never come at a convenient time.” Hank says, putting the letter down.

“This is more than inconvenient. If it went badly, it could shut us down right before our biggest event ever. With that, and with the money we’re losing, it can’t be a coincidence, Hank,” I say.

“So this is the money thing again,” Hank says.

“It’s connected to the money thing,” I protest. Hank shakes his head.

“We don’t know that the money thing is anything to actually be worried about, and an inspection is just an inspection. We’ll pass it like we always do,” Hank says.

“Not if someone’s arranged for us not to,” I say, frustrated. I don’t know why Hank refuses to take any of this seriously, but it’s making me worry about it even more.

“No one is out to get us,” Hank says like the idea is ridiculous.

“Someone could be,” I say.

“You watch too much TV,” Hank says, standing up like he’s done with the conversation. I stand too, annoyed. “You should get out more.”

“I spend all my time here,” I say. I hate to fight with Hank, but I feel my own anger rising in me. It may have been Hank who encouraged me to turn my life around, but I have, and it was just as much my savings and loans that allowed us to open this place. I think I’m allowed to be concerned if someone is trying to tear all that down. “I don’t have to time to get out.”

“Weren’t you the funny one in this friendship once upon a time?” Hank asks like he’s frustrated with me. Like he thinks I’m the one being irrational here. I stiffen.

“All I’m asking is that you take this seriously,” I say.

“And I have already told you I would keep an eye on it,” Hank says, heading out of his office. “I can handle it. Now, I have a potential new hire to interview, we’ll talk about it later.”

“Fine,” I mutter, feeling childish as I do, watching Hank walk out of his office. On his desk, my eye catches on a picture of Charlotte, and I pause, thinking of our conversation the other day. She looks much younger in the picture, not the beautiful woman she’d been the other day, the one I haven’t been able to get out of my mind.

I know I promised Hank I wouldn’t mention anything to her, but I’m starting to think it might be a good idea. Maybe she wouldn’t see the concern either, but I doubt it, and she clearly has a lot of influence over her father. If she could get him to properly investigate this, follow it through, it might be a huge help. I know I could investigate myself, and I might have to, but I’d really like Hank’s support on it. Maybe going through Charlotte is a really good idea.

Maybe I just want a reason to talk to her again, but I tell myself it’s more than that, anyway.