Under_The_Whispering_Door_by_TJ_Klune

Nelson laughed. “Refreshing. Frustrating, but refreshing. How are your
talks with Hugo going?”
The conversational whiplash threw Wallace off-balance, causing him to
wonder if Nelson had picked up on one of his professional tricks.
“They’re … going.” That might have been an understatement. The last few
nights, they’d been speaking of nothing in particular. Last night, they’d argued
for almost an hour over how cheating at Scrabble was acceptable in certain
circumstances, especially when playing against a polyglot. Wallace couldn’t
be sure how their conversation had ended up there, but he was sure that Hugo
was in the wrong. It was always acceptable to cheat at Scrabble against a
polyglot.
“Are they helping?”
“I’m not sure,” Wallace admitted. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to be
doing.”
Nelson didn’t seem surprised. “You’ll know when the time is right.”
“Cryptic bastard,” Wallace muttered. “What do you think I’m—”
He never got the chance to finish.
Something tickled at the back of his mind.
He frowned, raising his head to look around.
Everything looked as it always did. People sat at the tables, their hands
wrapped around steaming mugs of tea and coffee. They were laughing and
talking, the sounds echoing flatly around the shop. A small line had formed at
the counter, and Hugo was putting pastries into a paper bag for a young man
in a mechanic’s uniform, the tips of his fingers stained with oil. Wallace
could hear the radio through the kitchen doors. He caught a glimpse of Mei
through the porthole windows, moving back and forth between the counters.
“What is it?” Nelson asked.
“I don’t … know. Do you feel that?”
Nelson leaned forward. “Feel what?”
Wallace wasn’t sure. “It’s like…” He looked toward the front door.
“Something’s coming.”
The front door opened.
Two men walked in. They wore black suits, their shoes polished. One
was squat, as if he’d reached an invisible ceiling during his formative years
and expanded outward rather than upward. His forehead had a sheen of
sweat on it, his eyes beady and darting around the shop.