The Manifest

Chapter 2

     As he was stepping into the elevator, Edgar watched a young man darting to get inside the doors before they closed. Always in the mood to collect a little good karma this early in the week, Edgar held the elevator door open for the young man.

     "Thank you," the young man huffed, stumbling into the elevator.

     "What floor are you looking for, son?" Edgar inquired.

     "Third, please." the young man gasped, trying to catch his breath.

     Same floor as me, Edgar thought to himself as he hit the button, pretending it wasn't already pushed. Wondering what the young man was there for, Edgar remained calm and kept watching as the young man exited the elevator first. Keeping a distance, he strolled a few steps behind him while watching the young man walk through the door to his place of business. There wasn't a front desk receptionist, but rather a handful of workers who did all that kind of work collectively. They all used to be cops that were used to doing their own paperwork, and he and Tuck preferred to keep it that way. Not having an official receptionist saved them a bundle on payroll, which meant more for them to split. Yet not having someone at the door also meant people could walk in at any time, welcome or not. Something they'd likely have to address in the future, Edgar thought, as he watched the young man walk into the large room and stop before the small clutter of desks

     "I'm looking for an Edgar Willis." he asked out loud.

     "Present," Edgar called from behind, swiping the brown envelope right out of the young man's hand. "I assume this is for me?"

     "Yes, it is." The young man answered, as he wasn't used to be people stepping up willing to accept their summons. "You've been served."

     "I know the drill, sport." Edgar said, "Thanks for your efforts and have a good day."

     The young man was stunned for a moment, and then immediately vacated the office. Once inside his own office, Edgar set his warm coffee down on the desk and carefully started to open the brown envelope.

     "What is it boss?" one of his worked called from his desk, "Are we being sued again?"

     "Not this time," Edgar responded, examining the contents. "We got a little sloppy with our surveillance. It's a restraining order."

     "From who?" the man asked.

     "Whom," Edgar corrected, as he enjoyed being an occasion grammar tyrant. "It doesn't matter, this case is pretty much over anyway. The client isn't paying us anymore. Get back to work, Davis!"

     Startled, Davis quietly turned back to his desk and returned to work. Edgar didn't like to be harsh with him but sometimes it was necessary when he got a little nosey. Edgar sat down and sipped his coffee while reading the fine print of the restraining order. He always loved looking for loop-holes that would allow them to continue their work whenever they were paid enough to go that far. He knew there was always a way to get around everything and he could tell what kind of lawyer the person had by how the order was written prior to approval. Some were works of art, iron clad and tougher to crack thank a safe. Others were like Swiss cheese: full of holes and easy to eat up. Reading it was almost as fun as a morning crossword, and as Edgar was sitting there looking it over as his business partner came into the room.

     "Restraining order?" the man said, quite aware of what was going on.

     "That would be an affirmative," Edgar replied.

     "Do we need to get around it?" Tuck asked.

     "Not need." Edgar said, "It's for the Jordan case."