CHAPTER 24
“I’m really sorry,” Keller said into the phone.
“How many times do I have to tell you to stop apologizing?” Bob said. “Didn’t you read that article I sent you?”
Keller could picture the smirk on his face. He’d sent her one of those top ten lists for professional women that make the rounds on Facebook. Career advice written by world-weary twenty-two-year-olds.
“Don’t Apologize was tip number one,” Bob said.
“I’m traveling so much lately. You’re taking on more than your share.”
“Um, though my modeling career is about to take off, I think you’re forgetting how we have food.” Bob paused a beat. “And besides, I like being a kept man. No, a Stepford Husband.”
She felt her heart rate slowing, her blood pressure leveling. She could swear she actually felt it. Bob always had that effect on her.
“Whose phone are you on?” he asked, changing the subject. “The caller ID was blank and the reception is terrible.”
“I’m on the plane.”
“Whaaat? And you’re just now telling me that?” he said. “You’re like Clarice Starling. Or is it more like The Wolf of Wall Street? Tell me Stan’s there coked out of his mind with a bunch of hookers.”
“Stop it,” she said, smiling in spite of herself, the image of her buttoned-up boss getting wild with prostitutes unfortunately shooting through her mind. “Stan had to get back to the office.”
Her boss had left her to handle the meeting at the Marconi accounting firm on her own. Given the interest HQ had taken in the Pine case, Keller didn’t know whether to be flattered or concerned. Stan either had great confidence in her or was distancing himself from a potential shit show. Stan was a stand-up guy, so Keller decided to believe the former.
“So what’s in Chicago?” Bob asked.
“Probably blowing up two years of work on my cartel case.” Keller had the Marconi file spread out on the worktable in front of her.
“Wow, they really want to know what happened to the Pines,” Bob said. “The power of television, I guess.”
“And the president’s daughter, a law student and fangirl of ‘A Violent Nature.’”
“I hope you’re kidding.”
Keller didn’t reply.
“When do you think you’ll be home?”
“I’m not sure. I’m going to hit the accounting firm in the morning and, if I have time, try to talk to some of the girl’s classmates. I doubt it will go anywhere, but might as well while I’m there.” She hesitated, then added, “I won’t be surprised if they want me to go to Nebraska. That’s where they’re sending the bodies.” She’d tried calling Matt Pine, but it went right to voicemail. She’d texted him as well, but he’d ignored her. Or his phone was dead.
There was a beat of silence on the line. She almost apologized again, but then Bob said, “I’m proud of you, you know?”
Tears welled in Keller’s eyes. “I love you,” she said.
“Right back at you, G-woman. Give ’em hell tomorrow,” he said. And in an exaggerated tone of urgency he added, “And eat some deep dish. It’s Chicago, for Christ’s sake.”
CHAPTER 25
MATT PINE
Matt watched from the cover of the woods as a car jerked to a stop in front of Hank’s Toyota. A car door slammed and a figure stalked to Hank’s driver’s side. In the darkness, all Matt could make out was the form of a man. He must’ve worn heavy shoes, boots perhaps, because they crunched loudly in the gravel shoulder of the country road.
The man stopped, said something Matt couldn’t make out, then did something that caused Matt’s heart to free-fall. He started sprinting toward the precise spot where Matt was hiding.
Instincts took over, and Matt turned and hauled ass. He darted through the brush, branches lashing his face, thorny bushes snagging his shirt. A light, the beam from a powerful flashlight, locked on to Matt’s back, a long shadow before him. Matt hurdled over a downed tree, then cut sharply to the right, then left, then right again, trying to evade the spotlight.
He lunged behind some thick brush, the flashlight beam disap pearing for a moment. Matt darted deeper into the woods, not looking back. He kept going, his lungs on fire. When he found pitch blackness again, he stopped behind a large tree to catch his breath. He took in the humid air, trying not to make a sound. His heart was beating so hard, it felt like an alien trying to rip through his chest.