Page 28 of Keller

"Thanks."

We stand there, leaning against opposite counters. The silence isn't awkward, oddly enough. Even though we just met, there's an easy familiarity with him, like we've known each other for much longer than the few days since the gala, or even weeks since the incident in the street.

"You said your last name is Mercer, right? Are you related to the Mercers who are old New Orleans?"

I glance at him over the rim of my mug. "Yeah, I think we are all related. My family's been in New Orleans for generations."

He isn't wearing a shirt, and I have to make myself not stare at the way his waist makes a perfect V into his sweatpants.

"Old money."

"Old name. Money's mostly gone," I say with a laugh.

He nods but doesn't press. I sip the coffee. It's strong and delicious, hitting the spot.

"I actually know your cousin, the senator. Impressive."

"Yeah, between my senator cousin and the foundation my grandfather set up, we have a lot of high expectations in our family. Very buttoned up."

"You don't strike me as buttoned up."

"Good, I think. I'm definitely more low-key."

He smiles faintly, but genuinely, before taking another sip from his mug.

I shift my weight, leaning one hip against the counter. "As much as I don't want to, I should probably get going. I have to get to the office."

"I'm right there with you. Thanks for staying for coffee. Will you let me drive you back to your car?"

"Thank you for the coffee. Yeah, that would be great."

The office is cold,but I stopped noticing an hour ago. My desk is tucked in the corner, away from the main bullpen. Quiet. Controlled. Exactly how I need it.

I pull up the Stone Intermodal corporate structure on my screen. The ownership tree branches widely. Parent company. Subsidiaries. Holding companies tucked inside shell entities tucked inside more subsidiaries.

Classic layering.

I open a new spreadsheet and start building the outline. One column for entity name. Another for the incorporation date. A third for listed officers. I pull data from state filings, archived news articles, and public SEC documents. The information is dry and technical, exactly what I'm good at.

Stone Intermodal dominates logistics in the Gulf. Shipping contracts. Warehousing. Distribution networks that stretch through six states. Revenue in the hundreds of millions. It's the kind of operation that doesn't stay clean just by accident.

I click into the leadership breakdown. Robert Stone, deceased. Ridge Stone, CEO. Three other brothers are listed invarious operational capacities. Each one is tied to a different branch of the business.

Then I see a name that stops me in my tracks. Keller Stone is the Director of Strategic Partnerships.

My hand freezes on the mouse.

Keller is a unique name. I realize that I never got his last name, even though he knows mine.

I stare at the screen. My chest tightens. The coffee I drank this morning turns sour in my stomach.

It's not him. It can't be him. My Keller works in finance. Private investment. That's what he said. Finance, not logistics. Not shipping. Not the fucking Stone family.

I exhale slowly, forcing my shoulders to relax.

Common enough name. New Orleans is known for its uncommon names. It's probably some French derivative that I didn't realize I'd heard before. Big fat coincidence, that's all.

I scroll down. The file lists addresses, corporate roles, and board positions. Nothing that definitively connects the Keller Stone on this screen to the man whose bed I woke up in yesterday.