Instead, Bear just looked up at the building in front of him and asked, “What am I going to find inside?”

  “Information, I hope. Fourteenth floor. Green means go.”

  “Take care of yourself.”

  “You too, Big Man.”

  Bear pocketed the phone and took one last look up and down the road. It was clear of any traffic, pedestrian or otherwise. Now was the time to make his move. Bear had no way of knowing what was inside.

  But there was only one way to find out.

  5

  Bear took his time entering the building. He walked up the street, crossed at the crosswalk, and then back down to the front door. There was no doorman, and Bear couldn’t remember if they had made that choice on purpose or not. Either way, it made his job easier for now.

  The entryway was fairly basic. This wasn’t one of the fancy buildings in downtown Chicago. It was well-used but well-maintained, if not a little dated. There was no receptionist either. Instead, a golden directory shone with his reflection. He scanned through the list of businesses that rented from them but didn’t recognize any of the names until he got to Camelot Ltd. They took up floors fourteen through eighteen.

  Bear noted the distinct lack of cameras in the lobby, which made him think they had chosen not to station a doorman at the entrance. This was the kind of building you could disappear into pretty easily. He remembered a basement with a separate stairwell for an easy exit. Maybe that was the whole reason they had bought the building to begin with.

  Bear crossed the lobby and quietly pushed the door open to the stairwell. It was slightly off-white, but relatively clean. One of the lights had only a single bulb working . Still, it was quiet, which meant most everyone upstairs was probably at their desk. And, considering the building was full of unrelated companies, nobody would look at him twice, wondering why he was there.

  Taking the steps two at a time, Bear huffed it up six flights before gingerly opening the door and poking his head into the hallway. There wasn’t a soul in sight, but he could hear the quiet murmur of chatter interspersed with phones ringing. He exited the stairwell and jabbed the button for the elevator.

  Bear didn’t see another person on his way up. He started to wonder how many people were using the building anymore. Maybe they were all diligent workers. Maybe they actually liked their jobs.

  He chuckled to himself.

  With a ding, Bear arrived on the fifteenth floor. He thought again about how Jack would’ve made fun of him for being so cautious, but Bear didn’t care. Even Jack said he didn’t know what he would find once he got inside. Better safe than sorry.

  Bear stepped outside the elevator and listened. This floor was dead quiet. He couldn’t hear anything but the faint sound of beeping in the distance. He turned to the stairwell and crept down the stairs to the fourteenth floor, wishing he had a weapon of some sort. They usually kept a hideaway gun at every location they owned. Bear just had to find it.

  When he got to the fourteenth-floor landing, Bear noticed the door was cracked open a few inches. The linoleum floor was dusty past the threshold, except for a pair of footprints leading in and out. They were much too small for Jack, and Bear suspected they may have belonged to a woman.

  Bear slipped through the door and took in his surroundings. Like floor six, there was a singular hallway with just two doors lining the hall. Unlike the other floor, however, there was an umbrella stand sitting outside the door. A bright yellow umbrella sat inside. Bear rolled his eyes. He had wished for a weapon, but maybe he should’ve been a little more specific.

  Ask and you shall receive.

  Bear grabbed the umbrella and weighed it in his hand. It was one of those huge, well-made ones that might actually do some damage in a fight. It wasn’t going to stop any bullets, but it would give him some extra reach in some hand-to-hand combat.

  The fourteenth floor was as quiet as the one above it, but he could hear the faint ringing of phones below him. He sifted through the sounds and concluded that he was alone on this floor. Still, it was better not to take any chances.

  Bear gripped the doorknob in front of him and twisted it open. The door swung forward, and he noticed the footprints continued inside. The room was limited in furnishings, just a rusted metal desk and a cork board hanging on the wall. There were about a dozen things hanging from it, but he ignored that for now.

  On the other end of the room was another door. He crossed the office space and turned the doorknob there as well. If someone was lying in wait for him, they’d be inside. He swung this door open more forcefully and stepped out of the line of sight. No shots rang out. No one charged forward. No one told him to freeze and that he was under arrest.

  Bear cleared this room as well, spotting a safe sitting in the corner. There was a bathroom across the room but the door had been pulled off and set against the wall. Bear checked in there too, just in case. Empty. The entire floor was deserted.

  He returned to the safe and got it open on the second try. Inside, he found a Glock 19, a spare magazine, a box of rounds, and a few thousand in cash. The perfect welcoming present for arriving in a new city. He felt the relief wash over him now that he finally had a weapon in his hand again. This entire situation seemed a little less dire.

  Bear walked back to the main office. He smudged his footprints along the way, but kept the other ones intact. When he got to the bulletin board, he ignored everything but the slip of paper tacked into the cork with a green push pin. Green means go.

  Scribbled on the slip of paper was a phone number written in blue ink. It wasn’t Jack’s handwriting as far as he could tell. And even though it was just a series of numbers, there was a certain flourish to them that made Bear think it was a woman. Perhaps the same person who had left the footprints?

  At this point, Bear had two choices. He could either call the number directly or call someone who would be able to at least give him some idea of what he would be getting into if he went with option one. He elected for the latter.

  And he had the perfect person in mind.

  6

  Bear exited the building the same way he entered it: down to the sixth floor in the elevator and then through the stairwell until he landed outside. He didn’t look back as he crossed the road and headed toward downtown. It’d probably be another several years before he set foot inside those offices again. Maybe more.

  Bear kept walking until he found a decent-looking restaurant with outside seating. It was November, which meant Chicago was already whipping through fall and heading straight for winter. It also meant he’d be able to have a private conversation on the patio.

  The waiter, a young kid with long, blond hair, quirked an eyebrow at him when he asked if the tables outside were still available, but he nodded his head and led Bear to a seat in the corner. Bear had a view of the whole outdoor area along with the street traffic. It was perfect.

  He waited until his cup of coffee and sandwich arrived before calling his contact. He was normally cautious as it was, but Brandon was especially particular about who called him and where they were doing it from. Bear knew that within three seconds of him reaching out, Brandon would know exactly where he was located. Probably knew what kind of sandwich he was eating, too.

  Two full rings sounded before the line clicked over. There was no noise on the other end, but Bear knew he was there. “It’s me,” he said.

  “Bear.” Brandon always seemed to sigh with relief when he answered, like he wouldn’t be convinced of who it was until they spoke. He was a little on the paranoid side, but that’s what made him so good at what he did. “What can I do for you, my man?”

  “I have a number I’d like to run. I want to know who it belongs to. Everything you’ve got on them, I need to hear about it.”

  There were a couple clicks on Brandon’s end before he answered. Probably inspecting just how much mustard was on Bear’s turkey sandwich. “Who gave you the number?”

  “Jack.”

  Brandon laughed. “I doubt I’ll be able to find anything on it.”

  “I’m desperate,” Bear said. “Don’t have a whole lot of leads otherwise.”

  “All right, we’ll give it a try.”

  Bear rattled off the number to Brandon, who read it back. After Bear confirmed he had it right, the other end of the line was filled with the sound of keystrokes. A few clicks of the mouse interrupted the monotony. Bear waited patiently for five minutes. His sandwich was untouched.

  “It’s not looking good,” Brandon said. “Jack knows how to stay off the grid. He knows how to hide his tracks.”

  “Yeah, I know.” Bear knew that better than anyone, especially after recent events.

  “I have a couple more tricks to try. Why don’t you try to enjoy your lunch? I’ll call you back in ten.”

  Bear chuckled and hung up. He dug into his sandwich with gusto, draining his coffee and asking for another when the waiter came around to check on him. It was chilly, but the coffee mixed well with the adrenaline in his bloodstream. He just hoped he’d be able to get a decent night’s sleep at some point.

  Just as Bear was washing down the rest of his sandwich with his second cup of coffee, his phone rang. It was an unknown number, but Bear picked it up anyway. It could only be one of two people, and he had a pretty good idea which one it was.

  “Me again,” Brandon said. There was laughter in his voice.

  “What’d you find out?”

  “Did a couple different kinds of searches. The number bounces around a lot, keeps changing every time I try. There’s really no way to track exactly where it’s coming from. Definitely a burner. No search came back with a name.”

  “So, it’s a dead end then?”

  “Not exactly.” Brandon was clearly chuckling now. “I tried one more thing. State of the art technology. Really is pretty hard to get around this one.”

  “What did you do?”

  “I called the number.”

  Bear tried to keep the annoyance out of his voice. “And? What happened?”

  “A woman answered.”

  “A woman?” Bear asked. Could she be the owner of the footprints in the office? “What did she say?”

  “She said hello a couple times. American accent. She sounded cute.”

  Bear couldn’t keep the growl out of his voice now. “Why are you laughing?”

  “Nothing, nothing.” Brandon was starting to lose it. “I just keep imagining Jack setting you up.”

  “Setting me up?”

  “Yeah.” Another chuckle. “I think Jackie boy is trying to set you up on a date, Big Man.”

  After unceremoniously hanging up on Brandon, Bear ordered a final cup of coffee. He sat back in his seat and stared at the phone, like he thought the mystery woman might call him first. After the check came, Bear paid it and dialed the number. There was no time like the present.

  Right on cue, the woman answered. “Hello?”

  Bear remained silent. Brandon was right. She was American – and she did sound cute. Her voice was high but strong and clear.

  “Listen, creep, either say something disgusting or stop calling me.”

  Bear choked on his coffee. He was right about the strong part. She sounded like a firecracker.

  He weighed his words. He wasn’t sure how secure this line was. “I think we have a friend in common.”

  “Oh,” she said. “You must be Bear.”

  “No names.”

  “Right, sorry.” Bear could hear her swallow even over the phone. “I’ve been expecting your call.”

  Bear decided he would figure out what that meant later. “Where are you located?”

  “Chicago, downtown, in—”

  “Good,” Bear said, cutting her off. He didn’t need more detail than that. “We need to talk in person.”

  “Okay.” There was the noise of papers being shuffled and drawers opening and closing. “When? Where?”

  “Millennium Park. As soon as you can.”

  “It’s going to be crowded there. Are you sure you—”

  “More people means more privacy. No one will pay us any attention.”

  “Right. Got it. Okay.” There was the click of a door on the other end. “I’m heading there now. How will I know it’s you?”

  Bear chuckled. “You’ll know.”

  7

  Bear took a taxi to Millennium Park and made a beeline for Cloud Gate, aka the Bean. Chances were high that’s exactly where the woman would choose to meet. It was crowded, just like she said it would be, but that allowed even someone like Bear to disappear in the crowd.

  He did a lap around the monument before finding the corner of a picnic table and opening up a map of Chicago he stole from the back of the taxicab. He already knew the city fairly well, but it was the best way to watch the crowd in his peripheral vision without appearing suspicious.

  Bear looked up every few minutes to take a better look at his surroundings. Everyone was enjoying the crisp, clear day. Kids were running around the monument while parents took pictures and talked about what they were going to do with the rest of their day. Couples kissed and snuggled closer on the benches. Very few people were by themselves.

  That’s why he spotted her so quickly. Not that it was hard. She wore a bright yellow jacket and had long, raven hair. She had a messenger bag swinging off one shoulder and her phone in one hand. She stood close to the Bean and looked around. Her eyes passed right over Bear two or three times.

  For his part, Bear waited. For ten minutes, he monitored her along with the crowd. She didn’t speak to anyone else. Didn’t look in anyone else’s direction. No one approached her or passed by her too closely. She was alone. But that didn’t mean she wasn’t being watched. It didn’t mean Bear wasn’t being watched, either.

  After ten minutes, Bear pulled out his phone and texted her that he was there. She looked down and up again, searching the crowd in earnest. She walked a full circle around Cloud Gate twice before expanding her radius and making her way through the crowd around the tables. She walked right by him.

  Bear folded his map and tucked it and the phone back in his pocket. He trailed behind her, but it wasn’t hard staying out of sight. She never looked behind her. Not even once. Bear sighed. He wondered how Jack knew her and why he was working with someone so green.

  After ten more minutes, the woman was growing visibly frustrated. She texted him at least two more times, but he didn’t bother looking at what she said. When she stopped and put her phone away, Bear knew she was ready to give up. He passed by her shoulder, close enough that she would be able to hear him.

  “Follow me.”

  He didn’t bother looking back. She either would or wouldn’t. He preferred the former, but if it ended up being the latter, he’d wait for Jack to call him and they’d figure out what to do next.

  Bear walked until he reached Crown Fountain. Then he stepped off the path and leaned up against one of the trees, surveying the crowd in front of him. The woman was a few paces behind him in that godawful yellow coat. She stalked right up to him and crossed her arms over her chest.

  “You’re not really good at keeping a low profile, are you?” he asked, pointing at her jacket.

  “Are you Bear? Did Jack send you?”

  Bear didn’t bother confirming his identity. “Who are you and how do you know Jack?”

  The woman sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. She looked tired. “My name is Cara Bishop. I’m an investigative journalist. I was introduced to Jack through various backchannels.”

  “That’s not very specific.”

  “It’s not like you’re offering up a fountain of information,” she said.

  That was fair, but he wasn’t going to let her know that. “How old are you?”

  Cara scrunched up her face. “Twenty-six. Why is that relevant?”

  “You’re younger than I expected.”

  “I’m very good at my job,” she retorted.

  “Jack wouldn’t keep you on hand if you weren’t.”

  Bear scanned the crowd again. He didn’t like this setup. He certainly didn’t like getting information from someone who could turn around and put his whole life story in the newspaper if he let the wrong detail slip

  But it’s not like he had much choice. “What do you know?”

  “Hang on.” Cara put up a hand and looked him up and down. “This isn’t a free exchange. Jack said you could help me. How do I know you’ll keep up your end of the bargain?”

  “You don’t,” Bear said, “but I’ll tell you what I can.”

  Cara held her squint for a few more seconds before reaching into her bag and pulling out a small notebook. “Everything I have is in here.”

  “A notebook? Isn’t that a little…outdated?” Bear wasn’t great with technology, but at least he hadn’t written down information about the biggest scandal in U.S. history in a notebook he could’ve gotten at Wal-Mart for under a dollar.

  “It’s for you,” she said, handing it over. “Jack told me to give you a copy of everything. I didn’t know how you were with computers, so I elected for something a little easier, just in case.”

  Bear snatched the notebook out of her hand and tucked it into his back pocket. “Start from the beginning. I want to know everything.”

  Cara tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. She leveled one more look at him and then crossed her arms over her chest. “I was tasked with doing a profile on a man named Senator Thomas Goddard. It was just supposed to be filler. He had been climbing the ranks. My newspaper wanted me to talk to him, figure out what made him tick.”

  “Give him more exposure and possibly gain some favor with him?”

  She quirked a smile. “You’re not as dumb as you look.”

  “If I had a nickel every time I heard that.”

  Cara laughed. It was soft and high. Her eyes crinkled at the corners. “I was in his office when he took a phone call. His entire demeanor changed like that.” She snapped her fingers. “One minute he was jovial, down-to-earth, even a little dorky.”