Chapter 4 - The Inspection
Three weeks into the contract, June’s life had settled into a brutal, unforgiving rhythm that would have crushed a person half her age.
She woke up every morning at four-thirty to open Holloway’s Corner, serving bacon, eggs, and dark coffee to the neighborhood truck drivers, city workers, and elderly regulars who had sat in the same vinyl booths for two decades. At two in the afternoon, she closed the diner doors, swept the floors, and immediately began prepping for her evening assignments with Riley’s organization.
She had catered nine private dinners, two high-level regional conferences, and a late-night meeting between Cormac and an influential port authority commissioner from Milwaukee.
Every event was flawless. Her food was heavy, honest, and unforgettable—roast pork belly with crackling skin, rich Hungarian goulash, savory goose-liver pates, and hand-rolled apple strudels that left Cormac’s hardened lieutenants sitting in quiet, docile satisfaction after hours of bitter disputes over shipping routes and territory lines.
The men had stopped calling her “the old woman.” They had started calling her “Mrs. H.”
When she walked into a room carrying heavy transport trays, senior captains who controlled millions of dollars in illegal enterprise would jump up to hold the doors for her, pulling their chairs back respectfully whenever she stepped near the table.
On a rainy Thursday afternoon, while June was prepping seventy pounds of fresh pork shoulders in the kitchen of Holloway’s Corner, the brass bell above her diner door rang with a sharp, aggressive clatter.
June wiped her hands on her apron and walked out to the counter.
Standing in the center of the empty dining room was a tall, thin man in a tan trench coat, holding a heavy leather briefcase and an official silver clip-board. Behind him stood two city police officers in dark blue slickers, their hands resting casually on their leather duty belts.
“June Holloway?” the thin man asked, his voice sharp, nasal, and entirely devoid of warmth.
“I am,” June said, stopping behind the counter. “We’re closed until tomorrow morning.”
The man stepped forward, flipping open a black leather badge holder. “I’m Inspector Vance from the Cook County Department of Public Health and Commercial Safety. We’ve received an anonymous administrative complaint regarding severe structural and hygiene violations at this facility.”
June’s eyes narrowed into sharp slits. “I’ve had an A-grade health rating in this building for twenty-three consecutive years, Inspector. My kitchen is cleaner than a hospital operating room.”
“Ratings change, Mrs. Holloway,” Vance said with a cold, paper-thin smile. He tapped his clipboard. “We have reports of improper meat storage, uncertified drainage systems, and structural degradation in the basement foundation. Under Emergency Health Order 402, I am executing an immediate cease-and-desist closure of these premises pending a full deep-level municipal inspection.”
He pulled a heavy, bright red paper seal from his briefcase—a municipal Closure Notice.
June felt the blood drain from her face. “You can't do this. A municipal review takes six weeks to schedule. You’ll destroy my business!”
“Then I suggest you clear out your personal items by five o'clock,” Vance replied, stepping toward the front window with the red seal in his hand. “If these doors are unlocked tomorrow morning, the officers behind me will impound the property and place you under arrest.”
June stood frozen, her hands trembling as she watched the officer step toward the door. She knew instantly who was behind this. It wasn't the city health department. It was Paulie—Cormac’s disgruntled lieutenant who had been passed over for the port logistics oversight two weeks ago after June had caught him trying to slip two thousand dollars out of the event expense fund.
Before Vance could slap the red seal against the glass, the front door swung open from the outside.
A tall figure stepped into the doorway, dripping rain from a heavy black umbrella.
Cormac Riley walked into the diner.
Behind him, two of his personal security men stepped quietly onto the threshold, their heavy shoulders blocking the entrance entirely.
Inspector Vance stopped in his tracks, his eyes widening as he recognized the man standing in front of him.
“Mr... Mr. Riley,” Vance stammered, his confident demeanor vanishing instantly into a wave of nervous twitches. “This is an official municipal health operation. We are executing a standard closure order—”
Cormac didn't even look at the inspector. He walked straight past him, stepped up to the counter, and set a pristine white linen handkerchief down in front of June.
“You have a spot of flour on your cheek, June,” Cormac said softly.
June reached up with trembling fingers, taking the handkerchief and wiping her face, her eyes fixed on his calm, unshakeable profile.
Cormac turned around slowly, looking at Inspector Vance and the two police officers.
“Inspector Vance,” Cormac said, his voice dropping into a low, terrifying cadence. “Your wife’s brother manages a small auto-body repair shop on 31st Street, doesn't he?”
Vance went deathly pale. “What... what does my brother-in-law have to do with this?”
“He has three unregistered paint bays that drain toxic solvent directly into the city sewer system,” Cormac stated calmly, stepping forward until he was standing bare inches from the thin inspector. “And your nephew was arrested twice last month for possession of stolen vehicle parts in Evanston. Cases that were quietly dropped after a phone call from a senior health inspector’s office.”
Vance swallowed hard, his throat making a dry, clicking sound.
Cormac reached out, took the bright red closure notice out of Vance’s trembling hand, folded it neatly into quarters, and slipped it into Vance’s coat pocket.
“Mrs. Holloway’s kitchen is the cleanest establishment in this city,” Cormac whispered, leaning in closer to the inspector’s ear. “If I see a single city inspector on this block again, the Environmental Protection Agency will receive a four-hundred-page dossier on your brother-in-law’s shop by eight o'clock tomorrow morning. Do we understand each other?”
Vance didn't say a word. He nodded frantically, grabbed his clipboard, turned on his heel, and practically shoved past the police officers as he fled into the rain.
The two officers looked at Cormac, offered a quick, formal nod of respect, and stepped back out onto the sidewalk, closing the door behind them.
The diner was silent once more.
June leaned against the counter, her chest heaving as she let out a long, shuddering breath.
“Paulie set this up, didn't he?” June asked quietly, looking at Cormac.
“Paulie has been reassigned to a salvage yard in Duluth,” Cormac replied smoothly, pulling out a chair from a nearby booth and sitting down. “He will not be returning to Chicago.”
May you like
He looked at her, his gray eyes softening slightly as he gestured toward the kitchen.
“Is that pork shoulder ready for the oven, June? I haven't had lunch yet.”
