Chapter 6 - The Meals That Were Never Supposed to Arrive
"They were going to take our equipment?"
Chloe stared at the yellow maintenance slip.
"That's what this suggests," I said.
"But the equipment belongs to The Shared Table."
"I know."
Daniel examined the document.
"It's evidence of a proposed transfer, not proof that the transfer was authorized."
"Then we need to find out who issued it."
The answer came sooner than expected.
The phone number printed at the bottom belonged to a facility management company Arthur had used before.
When Daniel contacted them through our business office, they confirmed that Arthur had requested an equipment assessment.
The assessment had been described as preparation for a possible expansion.
Nobody had authorized the removal of our machines.
The company agreed to preserve its correspondence.
Another piece of Preston's story was beginning to fall apart.
But I couldn't spend the entire morning investigating him.
We had meals to prepare.
At six thirty the following day, I returned to the kitchen wearing my oldest white chef's coat.
The sleeves were frayed.
There was a faint turmeric stain near the pocket.
Preston had once bought me an expensive replacement and complained whenever I wore the old one.
Now I pulled it on without thinking.
Rosa saw me and smiled.
"There's our boss."
I picked up a thermometer.
"Show me yesterday's temperature logs."
For the next hour, we worked through every safety record.
Then one of our delivery drivers, Marcus, entered carrying a cardboard box.
"Someone left this at the adult day center yesterday," he said.
Eleanor had asked him to bring it back.
The box contained six sealed sample meals.
Each tray carried a familiar logo.
The Shared Table.
But something was wrong.
The labels were printed on cheap glossy paper.
Our labels were matte and color-coded by dietary category.
I picked up a tray marked Chicken and Vegetable Dinner.
Beneath the ingredients, a small line identified the manufacturer.
North Creek Meals.
My stomach tightened.
"They're using our logo."
Rosa took another package.
"Look at this."
The label listed the meal as dairy-free.
But the sauce ingredients included powdered milk.
We didn't know whether the label or the contents were correct.
Either possibility was unacceptable.
I immediately contacted Eleanor and our other customers, explaining that unauthorized sample meals had been circulated and should not be served.
Eleanor assured me none had reached her residents.
We documented the packaging and notified the appropriate food-safety authorities.
Then I called Arthur.
He answered on the fourth ring.
"Hello?"
"This is your cousin's wife."
Silence.
"Arthur, I have six meals in front of me wearing my company's name."
He cleared his throat.
"Those are just samples."
"Samples from whom?"
"North Creek."
"Why are they carrying our logo?"
"Preston said you two were reorganizing."
I closed my eyes.
"We are not reorganizing."
"He told me you were buying into the new facility."
"Did you ask me?"
Arthur didn't answer.
I kept my voice steady.
"Where did you get our packaging files?"
"Preston brought them."
"And our customer lists?"
"Preston."
"What about the forty thousand dollars in invoices?"
His breathing changed.
"Those were legitimate business expenses."
"Then send Chloe the supporting records."
"I already gave Preston everything."
"Send them to us."
He hesitated.
"Look, I didn't know things were this bad between you."
"This isn't about our marriage, Arthur. It's about company money and food safety."
"I understand."
But he sounded like a man who was only beginning to understand.
Before ending the call, I asked one last question.
"Who owns North Creek Meals?"
"That's complicated."
"Try explaining it."
"Preston told me he'd talk to you."
"Arthur."
He sighed.
"There's an investor involved."
"Who?"
"I can't discuss that."
I looked at the counterfeit meal trays.
"Then you need to get someone independent to advise you, because this is getting serious."
He ended the call.
That afternoon, our auditor obtained the public registration for North Creek Meals.
Arthur was listed as the organizer.
But the company's operating agreement wasn't public, and the available records didn't identify everyone with a financial interest.
Preston had told me North Creek didn't matter.
Arthur was refusing to say who controlled it.
And our customer information was already in its possession.
At five o'clock, Daniel called Chloe and me into the conference room.
He had reconstructed several transactions using invoices, canceled checks, and bank records.
Of the roughly forty thousand dollars paid to Arthur's supplier business, more than twenty-six thousand had been transferred onward.
Some funds went toward warehouse rent.
Some paid for packaging and refrigerated storage.
And nearly eleven thousand had moved to an account associated with North Creek.
"The money trail isn't complete," Daniel warned.
"Can you tell whether Preston received any of it?" I asked.
"Not yet."
Chloe studied the report.
"Then why is North Creek preparing to replace us?"
Daniel opened a file received from one of our longtime customers.
It was a sales proposal North Creek had distributed before our equipment failure.
The first page promised reduced prices and faster delivery.
The second compared North Creek with The Shared Table.
The third described our company as financially unstable.
And the fourth contained a projected acquisition timeline.
I read the first line twice.
Upon default or business closure, North Creek will seek to acquire selected operating assets.
My hands went cold.
"Preston isn't just starting another company," I whispered.
Chloe looked at me.
"He may be preparing for ours to fail."
Then Daniel pointed at a handwritten note attached to the proposal.
May you like
It contained only four words.
"Make sure she signs."
