The Key On The Marble Floor

Chapter 04 - The Marble Floor

Noah hit the marble hard enough to lose breath.

Not violently enough to break him, not with blood or gore, but hard enough that his palms slapped white stone and pain shot through his shoulder. His backpack strap slipped down one arm. The small silver key fob flew from his hand, skidded across the glossy floor, and came to rest beside the black sedan’s front wheel.

The showroom went silent.

Then came the gasps.

A woman behind the velvet rope covered her mouth. Someone stepped back. Someone else whispered, “He’s just a kid.”

Evan stood over Noah, chest rising fast, already realizing the shove had gone too far in public.

Noah pushed himself halfway up, breathing through pain.

“I was told to ask for Mr. Whitaker,” he said again.

His voice shook.

That made it stronger somehow.

Evan looked toward the key fob on the floor. For a second, his face showed not anger but recognition. He knew it. Noah saw that. Evan knew what the key meant, and that knowledge frightened him more than the crowd.

“Don’t touch that,” Noah said.

Evan snapped back, “You don’t give orders here.”

But he did not pick it up.

That was the second clue.

The first was fear.

The second was restraint.

If the key were worthless, Evan would have grabbed it, laughed, and tossed it into lost property. Instead, it sat on the marble between them like a loaded question.

The black sedan reflected the fob in its polished side panel.

Noah looked at the front glass entrance again.

Rain streaked the outside panes. City lights blurred beyond them. And through the glass, an elderly man in a navy suit had stopped on the sidewalk, staring into the showroom.

Gray hair.

Straight posture.

Powerful face.