“Already called them.”
She looked toward him.
He shrugged.
“Growth.”
She almost smiled.
“Don’t get comfortable.”
“I’m not.”
By noon, eleven aircraft were temporarily grounded for record review.
By two, thirty-seven reposition legs showed fuel usage inconsistent with passenger manifests.
By four, one hundred twelve thousand dollars in cabin service charges appeared on flights officially listed as empty.
At six fifteen, a junior cabin cleaner named Rosa Martinez arrived carrying a plastic folder.
She had been with Meridian nine months.
Twenty-four years old.
Mother of a four-year-old boy.
She had sent the first anonymous complaint.
Adrienne met her in a small conference room.
No lawyers.
No executives except Marcus.
Rosa sat on the edge of the chair.
She kept both hands around the folder.
Adrienne said:
“You can leave whenever you want.”
Rosa nodded.
“Okay.”
“You are not required to identify yourself as the complaint source.”
“I already did.”
“To me.”
“Not in the system.”
Rosa looked toward Marcus.
Then Adrienne.
“I want it on record.”
Adrienne nodded.
“Why now?”
Rosa laughed nervously.
“Because I saw what happened this morning.”
“You were there?”
“No.”
“Malik texted my cousin.”
Adrienne almost smiled.
Airports were villages wearing security badges.
Rosa continued:
“He said you grounded the jet.”
“Then someone said Richard got escorted out.”
“So I thought maybe…”
She looked down.
“Maybe somebody would listen now.”
The sentence hit.
Adrienne said:
“I’m listening.”
Rosa opened the folder.
Inside were photographs.
Cabins after flights listed as empty.
Champagne bottles.
Catering receipts.
Passenger trash.
Luxury shopping bags.
Once, a cigar case.
Another time, casino chips.
Rosa explained:
“I clean tail seven and tail twelve most often.”
“Sometimes the sheet said reposition only.”
“But cabins were destroyed.”
“Food.”
“Drinks.”
“Blankets.”
“Bathrooms.”
“I asked if records were wrong.”
“My supervisor said executive movements weren’t our business.”
“Then?”
“I started taking pictures.”
“Why?”
“My dad works inventory at a hospital.”
“He says if people tell you not to notice numbers, notice harder.”
Adrienne smiled faintly.
“Smart man.”
Rosa continued:
“One night I found a boarding card.”
“Private terminal in Miami.”
“Passenger name didn’t match any company record.”
“I gave it to my supervisor.”
“What happened?”
“She threw it away.”
“Name?”
Rosa hesitated.
Then gave it.
Another manager.
Another layer.
Adrienne asked:
“What made you report discrimination?”
Rosa looked confused.
“It was connected.”
“How?”
“Richard’s people didn’t want anyone near the aircraft unless they were expected.”
“That sounds normal.”
“No.”
Rosa shook her head.
“Expected didn’t mean manifest.”
“It meant rich-looking.”
Adrienne became quiet.
Rosa continued:
“They had a phrase.”
“What?”
“Right fit.”