“The reports don’t match source complaints.”
“How many?”
“I’ve found nine in forty minutes.”
“That’s enough for preliminary review.”
“Not enough for a conclusion.”
“No.”
Daniel agreed.
“Do you want me to notify regional?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because if someone is manipulating the records, notification gives them time.”
Daniel considered.
“That means you’re thinking unannounced audit.”
“I’m thinking observation first.”
“Adrian.”
Daniel said.
“You are not twenty-eight anymore.”
“Thank you.”
“And walking into an operational problem alone because you think you can still be invisible is how executives end up creating a second operational problem.”
“I’m not alone.”
“You’re going with security?”
“No.”
Daniel sighed.
“I knew there was a trap in that sentence.”
Adrian smiled faintly.
Then an email appeared.
Anonymous sender.
No greeting.
No introduction.
“Do not announce the inspection.”
“They replace food before compliance visits.”
“They close guest complaints.”
“They move premium inventory through service door three.”
“Sit there after breakfast.”
Attached photograph.
A case of smoked salmon.
Meridian Crown vendor label.
Service hallway.
Timestamp.
Adrian enlarged the image.
Could be legitimate transfer.
Could be old.
Could be misleading.
But it matched the complaint pattern.
He called Daniel again.
“Change of plan.”
“What now?”
“I’m going Monday.”
“You already decided.”
“Yes.”
“Then I’m coming.”
“You, Hannah, and two compliance specialists stay in the terminal.”
“Which Dr. Hannah?”
“Kim.”
Hannah Kim was Meridian Crown’s corporate director of food safety.
Former hospital dietetics manager.
Certified food-protection specialist.
She had shut down three kitchens in six years and once suspended an executive chef during a board retreat because refrigeration logs were falsified.
Adrian trusted her because she was unimpressed by titles.
“If I call.”
Adrian said.
“You move.”
“If I don’t?”
“We observe quietly.”
“And Charlotte leadership?”
“Nothing.”
Daniel paused.
“You’re going under your real name?”
“Yes.”
“That defeats being undercover.”
“I’m not undercover.”
“I’m simply not announcing ownership.”
“And if someone recognizes you?”
“Then we learn less.”
“Old backpack?”
Daniel asked.
Adrian looked toward the cabinet.
“Yes.”
Daniel laughed quietly.
“You still have that thing?”
“It outlasted two acquisitions and one marriage.”
“Your luggage has commitment issues.”
Adrian ended the call smiling.
Then stopped smiling when he looked at the anonymous photograph again.
Monday morning, the old backpack brought him into the annex.
At 8:51, his meal arrived.
Not from the main buffet.
An attendant brought a tray.
Chicken sandwich.
Packaged fruit.
Yogurt.
Coffee.
Adrian touched the sandwich wrapper.
Lukewarm.
He opened it.
Wilted lettuce.
Moisture beneath the chicken.
A smell he did not like.
The yogurt had adhesive residue where a label had apparently been removed.
The fruit cup looked cloudy.
He photographed everything.
Then checked the main room.
Fresh salmon.
Egg station.
Warm pastries.
Berries.
Full coffee service.