RING OF POWER

Chapter 7 A Day's Work

Alphonsus almost didn't answer. Something in Eleanor's voice—the certainty, the knowledge, the way she had said that she might have something belonging to her employers—made him pick up the phone instead of letting it ring.

"I'm listening," he said.

"Good. I'll be direct because I respect your time. There is an object that was in your father's possession. It's extremely valuable to my employers. We believe you may have it or know where it is. If so, we'd like to discuss a mutually beneficial arrangement."

Alphonsus tightened his grip on the phone. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Your father's name was..."

He hung up.

His heart hammered. He set the phone down on the nightstand beside the yellow envelope containing the photograph. Who the hell was this woman?

How did she know his father? She didn't just know his father's name; she was obviously working for people looking for him.

He thought about calling his mum. But she needed more rest, and whatever this was could wait until she was stronger. Instead, at four forty-five in the morning, he drove to the warehouse.

Daniel was waiting outside when Alphonsus arrived. He was in his late fifties, with the weathered face of someone who'd worked outdoors for decades. His hands were scarred, his back slightly bent, and his work boots were held together with duct tape. When he saw Alphonsus, he didn't smile.

"You're the new guy," Daniel said. It wasn't a question.

"Yeah."

"Don't get in anyone's way, and we'll get along fine."

Dwight Torres came out at four fifty-two in the morning with three other workers, including a younger man who looked to be in his mid-twenties, with the confidence of someone who'd never spent a day doubting himself.

His name was Trevor. "All right," Dwight said. "Same warehouse, different section today. We're reorganising the south wing. Heavy lifting, plenty of inventory management. Stay hydrated and work safely."

They went inside.

By eight in the morning, Alphonsus understood why David had warned him to stay out of the way.

Trevor worked quickly but carelessly. He moved boxes without checking the shelves' load capacity and stacked pallets without securing them properly. Whenever their boss came around, Trevor would slow down and look concerned, as if he'd been working hard all along.

Trevor's speed mattered more to him than doing the job safely. He moved with confidence, but that confidence didn't extend to checking his work. David, by contrast, took time to make sure each task was done correctly, even when that meant working slowly.

David kept working steadily and methodically, doing things properly even when it took longer. At nine thirty in the morning, while they were moving heavy inventory boxes, Trevor stacked three pallets too high on a shelf that clearly couldn't support them.

Alphonsus saw it happen and wanted to say something, but he kept his head down. He was new. It wasn't his place, and he needed the job.

By ten fifteen in the morning, the shelf began to bend. Metal groaned under the strain. The boxes started sliding. David, standing below, looked up and moved, but one box clipped his shoulder as it fell.

It wasn't a direct hit. The box glanced off him, but the impact made him stumble and caused real pain.

Dwight came running over.

"What happened?" he demanded.

Trevor was already there, shaking his head. "David and I were moving boxes too fast and not paying attention. I told him to slow down, but he kept going. I think the stack was too high because of how he set it up."

Alphonsus watched David straighten up, one hand on his shoulder, without contradicting Trevor.

"Is that right?" Dwight asked Daniel.

He looked at the boxes, the shelf, and Trevor. He looked exhausted.

"I was careful," David said quietly.

"He wasn't," Trevor insisted. "I've been trying to tell you all morning that the organisation on this side was a mess. David did it that way."

David turned to Alphonsus. "You've been working nearby. What did you see?"

Alphonsus had a choice. He could say he hadn't seen anything clearly or that it had been an accident. He could protect his job and stay out of it.

Instead, he said, "Trevor stacked the boxes. David and I were on the ground when they started to fall."

Trevor's face reddened. "That's not true..."

"I watched the whole thing," Alphonsus continued. "The shelf was overloaded because of how Trevor stacked the pallets. David told him to check the weight limit, but Trevor said it would be fine."

"I did not say that," Trevor replied, but his voice had lost its confidence.

"You did, right before you went to move the next pallet." Marcus looked at the shelf, the boxes, and the way they'd been stacked. He examined David's shoulder, which was beginning to bruise, then looked at Trevor.

"Go to the office," Dwight said. "We need to talk about safety procedures."

"But..."

"Now."

Trevor left.

David rubbed his shoulder. "You didn't have to do that."

"Yes, I did," Alphonsus said.

For the rest of the shift, David worked beside him without saying much, but something had changed. When they moved a particularly heavy load at two in the afternoon, David positioned himself to help without being asked. When Alphonsus slipped on a wet patch of floor, David steadied him.

At the end of the day, David said, "You stood up for someone you don't know. That matters. I've got two kids at home, and my wife's been out of work for six months. I needed this job more than you know. Thank you."

Alphonsus nodded. It was a small thing. It shouldn't matter this much, but it did.

He was heading to his car when his boss, Dwight, called him over.

"Jameson. Come here."

Alphonsus followed him to the small office inside the warehouse. Marcus sat behind a desk covered with paperwork and looked directly at Alphonsus.

"I've been in this business for twenty-three years," he said. "And I've learned to notice how people handle situations. Most people see someone being blamed for something they didn't do and keep their mouths shut. They protect their paycheques."

Alphonsus said nothing.

"But you spoke up for someone you'd just met, someone who can't offer you anything in return." Marcus leaned back in his chair. "That tells me something about your character."

"I'm not looking for anything special," Alphonsus said carefully.

"I know you're not. That's why I'm telling you." Dwight stood and extended his hand.

"I've got steady work available if you want it. Not just day labour—a proper position. Forty hours a week, benefits after ninety days, starting pay of eighteen dollars an hour. What do you say?"

Alphonsus looked at the offered hand. A real job. Forty hours. Benefits. Eighteen pounds an hour instead of sixteen.

"Yes," he said, shaking Dwight's hand. "Thank you."

"Start Monday," Dwight said. "And, Alphonsus, don't lose that. The thing that made you speak up for David. A lot of people lose it when they start climbing."

Alphonsus walked out of the warehouse into the late-afternoon light, holding a job offer that could change everything.

As he sat in his car, his phone buzzed with a message from an unknown number: "We know where to find you now. We can make this easy or difficult. Your choice. Call me back."

It was Eleanor again. What did she want this time?