“Thanks but no thanks, Fish.” Her tone was sugary sweet.
He sighed heavily. “Can’t blame a guy for tryin’ though, right?”
“Can’t blame a guy for trying,” she assured him, pasting on a soft grin to hide the grimace that threatened.
He suddenly looked far more sober. “We good? I mean, is there anything I can do or say to make things okay between us? ’Cause even without the benefits part, I’d still like it if we could have the friends part.”
Why? Why does he have to be so damned wonderful?
“I think you said everything that needs saying, Fish.” If her voice was a little hoarse, she hoped it wasn’t enough for him to notice as he headed for the door.
Turning at the threshold, he proved that when it came to saying things that were as beautiful as they were awful, he was a champ. “Just so ya know, if it were possible for me to have a great, big BKI love, it would be with you.”
He shrugged sadly before stepping into the hallway and softly closing the door behind him.
Five minutes later, she’d managed to crawl under the covers. The sound of his harmonica drifted softly through the brick wall. He played Nina Simone’s “Wild is the Wind.”And the sad sound of the tune perfectly matched the sorrow in her heart.
21
Even in a metropolis as large as Chicago, there were corners of silence and solitude. Little enclaves of serenity that could make a person forget the city and its surrounding suburbs held more people than the states of Oklahoma, Kansas, Nebraska, South Dakota, and North Dakota combined.
The BKI compound on Goose Island was one such place. At five o'clock in the morning, silence cloaked the street that ran past the front of the property. The absolute stillness of nighttime slowly making way for the bustle of day was exquisite.
Not a horn or a siren could be heard. No tour buses or water taxis buzzed by with guides shouting through loudspeakers about the history of the city. The songbirds still slept. And the noisy, honking Canada geese that lived on the river were tucked away in their roosts.
Julia O’Toole was a city girl through and through. She was used to the clamor and the chaos. But she couldn’t deny the peace she felt when she stumbled upon a pocket of tranquility.
Her window was rolled down and she breathed in the early morning air. Later, the entire city would be filled with the scents of hot concrete and acrid car exhaust. But right now, all she could smell was the cool wetness of Lake Michigan and the doughy, yeasty aroma coming from the bagel shop across the way.
Her stomach growled, but she ignored it to look at her reflection in the rearview mirror. Her hair was neatly pulled back in a slick ponytail and she’d donned her favorite gray pantsuit just in case she was forced to face reporters.
Her eyes were clear and bright. Her skin? Not so much. She had a zit brewing beneath the surface on the left side of her chin. But that was par for the course. Even at thirty-three years old, anytime she found herself under the gun she developed a raging case of adult acne.
She should be tired. She’d only managed a handful of hours of sleep since being assigned this case. But the adrenaline that had poured into her veins when the coroner called had burned away any fatigue.
She glanced over at Dillan. “You ready for this?”
“No.” He grimaced. “Babysitting a witness in a safe house is the worst part of this job. Why don’tyoudo it and I’ll be the one to work the case? You could use the girl-time anyway, right?”
She bared her teeth in a parody of a smile. “Careful, Dillan. Your misogyny is showing. Also, since I’m the lead agent”—his self-satisfied smirk faltered—“I get the privilege of picking my poison. And my poison is seeing this thing through until the end.”
“We could call in someone,” he cajoled. “It doesn’thaveto be me.”
“But itdoes. Because whoever’s behind this has a long reach. The fewer people who know where we’re keeping Miss Meadows, the better. And byfew, I mean you, me, and the director. Capeesh?”
He blew out a breath so blustery it caused his lips to flap.
Petulant. What is it about overgrown men and petulance?
She had pushed out of the vehicle and made her way around the hood by the time Dillan finally emerged from the passenger side. Still looking petulant.
The guard who had been on duty the night before was the same one on duty this morning. And he looked no happier to see them now than he had then.
Good grief! Is it my lot in life to be surrounded by sour-faced men?
“You’re back,” he said after he’d pulled open the little window on the side of the guardhouse.
“We are, indeed.” She tried to win him over with a smile. It didn’t work. He continued to scowl at her. “I know it’s early, but we’re here to see Miss Meadows.”
