Stanton asked, quickening his pace.
“Federal agents,” the boy said shortly, without looking back. “They came for you and somebody else too. I heard them talking on the radio.”
“How do you—”
“Later,” the boy cut in. “First we need to get out of here.”
They moved quickly through side streets in the old downtown, doubling back and changing direction more than once. After ten minutes of that, Stanton was breathing hard. Years of desk work and stress had taken their toll, gym membership or not.
“Stop.” He paused, catching his breath. “Tell me what’s going on.”
The boy glanced around, then nodded toward a small coffee shop on the corner.
“Better in there. Not safe out here.”
The place was nearly empty: an older couple by the window and a college kid with a laptop in the corner. They took a table in the back.
“Who are you?” Stanton asked once they sat down. “And how did you know about the agents?”
The boy shifted in his chair, clearly uncomfortable under Stanton’s steady gaze.
“My name’s Alex. Alex Keller.” He looked away for a second. “My mom works at the Imperial. Cleaning crew.”
Something in his tone made Stanton pay closer attention.
“And?”
“Sometimes I help her out,” the boy said. “Today they had important guests coming in, so the whole staff was scrambling. I was out back when a car pulled up. Two men got out and started talking about some operation. One of them said, ‘Stanton and Vance will be at the restaurant at seven. We take both, but especially Stanton.’”
Michael felt a chill move through him. The story had the ring of truth.
“And you decided to warn me? Why?”
Alex shrugged.
“Don’t know. I guess because you seemed… decent.” He hesitated. “On TV.”
Stanton gave a short smile. He did appear often enough on business news shows, offering commentary on markets and economic trends.
“You make a habit of rescuing strangers?”
“You’re the first.” The boy gave him a faint smile.
A waitress came over. Stanton ordered coffee for himself and hot chocolate for Alex.
“How did you know what I look like?” Michael asked after she walked away.
“My mom showed me,” the boy said quickly, then added, “In a magazine. You’re kind of well known.”
Parts of the story didn’t quite line up, but Stanton decided to leave that for later. Right now he needed to understand what kind of trouble he was in. He took out his phone and called his deputy.
“Victor, we’ve got a problem. Looks like there’s some kind of federal operation at the Imperial. Find out what’s going on.” He listened for a moment. “Yes, I’m safe. Cancel all meetings today and tomorrow. Get the legal team ready. We may need them.”
When he ended the call, he turned back to the boy.
“Thank you for the warning. You may have saved me from a very bad night.”
“Sure,” Alex said, looking down, embarrassed by the gratitude.
“Now I should take you home. Where do you live?”
“No need.” The boy stood up abruptly. “I can get there myself.”
“Wait.” Stanton rose too. “I’d like to thank you properly. And talk to your mother.”
Alex’s face tightened, as if the idea hurt.
“Don’t. Really. I gotta go.”
Before Stanton could say another word, the boy bolted for the door and ran out of the coffee shop. Michael went after him, but by the time he reached the sidewalk, the alley was empty. Alex had vanished.
Stanton walked slowly back inside. Something about the boy’s behavior bothered him. Too many coincidences. The timing. The information. And that last name—Keller. Why did it sound familiar?
His phone buzzed. Victor.
“Michael, the news isn’t good. There really is a federal operation at the Imperial. Vance and three other businessmen were detained. Early reports say it’s tied to money laundering and financing criminal networks.”
Stanton felt a cold line run down his back. His company had done business with Vance for three years. If the allegations held up…
“What about me?”
“Nothing definite yet, but you should stay out of sight for a few days. I’ve sent a car to the address you texted. It’ll be there in five minutes.”
Stanton looked out the window and thought. Vance could drag down a lot of people, himself included. But right now the boy who had warned him occupied more of his mind than the federal case. Alex Keller. And his mother, who worked cleaning tables and floors at the Imperial. Why did that matter so much?
Then a face surfaced in his memory. A woman’s face he hadn’t seen in fifteen years. Nina Keller.
Stanton sat up straight. No. Impossible. Just a coincidence. But the boy’s eyes—exactly like his own. And the age… If Nina really had been pregnant back then…
He didn’t get to finish the thought. A black BMW with tinted windows pulled up outside the coffee shop. His driver flashed the headlights. Stanton left a large bill on the table and stepped outside. Once inside the car, he leaned back and closed his eyes.
“Where to, Mr. Stanton?”
