“And the next?”

  Her face took on a somber look. “He was all hard lines and angles. The whole atmosphere of the room changed. I felt claustrophobic, like he was too big and too close. His voice had this edge to it. Honestly, it scared me.”

  “What was the phone call about?”

  “He only said a few things. I heard him say something about Costa Rica. Something about passing a bill in the Senate. Then he said he’d deal with it later. He hung up, and just like that, he was back.”

  “Just like before?”

  “Almost. There was something in his eyes. Or maybe I’d finally seen something I couldn’t unsee.” She rubbed her arms, like the memory had given her a chill. “I wrapped up the interview as quickly as I could.”

  “And then you started digging into him.” Bear was impressed, but he couldn’t help thinking she had made the wrong call. She was too young, too green to get mixed up in all of this.

  “I pulled everything I could on him, from the minute he was born to the day I conducted the interview. I told the paper it was research for my piece. No one questioned it.”

  “And what did you find out?”

  “Goddard was smart but he wasn’t too careful. He’d take a meeting here and there, and then a few months down the line, one of the obstacles in his way would suddenly disappear. I never had any hard evidence, but it was pretty clear he was blackmailing people.”

  “Did you run the profile?”

  Cara laughed again, but this one was harsh. “Obviously. I didn’t have a choice.”

  “But you never stopped digging?”

  She shook her head. “I had to be more careful. I tried to do a follow-up piece, but the paper decided it wasn’t worth my time. They assigned me other tasks. I worked on them during the day, but at night, it was right back to Goddard.”

  “Did anyone ever pay you a visit? Did anyone ever reach out to you?”

  Cara hesitated for a fraction of a second, but Bear noticed it. “No.”

  He lifted an eyebrow, but didn’t press her. “What was your big break?”

  “Goddard’s death. He died mysteriously in Costa Rica. I thought it was all over after that, but there was no power vacuum. Things went on, business as usual.”

  “You think someone else stepped into his shoes?”

  “There’s no other explanation for it. Everyone should’ve breathed a sigh of relief. They should’ve tried reversing some of his most recent proposals. But they didn’t. That tells me someone was pulling Goddard’s strings, and once he was out of the picture, they just chose someone else.”

  “Do you know who?”

  She shook her head, her raven hair swinging back and forth. “I never got that far.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I landed in the middle of something else, something bigger.”

  “What’s that?”

  “The reason why you’re here, Bear.” She cracked a smile. “I found out the Director of National Intelligence, Mason Hughes, is getting his hands dirtier and dirtier every day.”

  8

  “How?” Bear asked.

  “What do you mean how?”

  “I mean, how did you find this out?”

  Cara scoffed. “I tell you a member of the President’s Cabinet is corrupt, and you ask me how I know?”

  “You haven’t told me anything I don’t already know,” Bear said. “I need sources. I need evidence. If you can’t provide that, you’re of no use to me.”

  Cara’s face flushed with anger. “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t have information to corroborate what I’m telling you.”

  “Then let’s hear it.”

  “Hughes has been playing chess while everyone else has been playing checkers. He’s been putting pieces into place for years without anyone being the wiser.”

  “Except you?”

  Cara rolled her eyes. “I told you, I’m good at my job. But not that good. I’ve had help. It took a long time to get this far. I’m still missing some pretty big pieces. But I know there’s something here. I know there’s a thread that needs pulling.”

  “And you think you’re going to be the one to do it?”

  “Me?” She laughed. “Hell no. Believe it or not, I value my life. This is way bigger than me. I want to do the right thing, but I don’t want to die because of it.”

  “That’s the first sensible thing you’ve said all day.”

  “I’m aware.” Cara brushed her hair out of her face. The anger had left red blotches across her cheeks. “Hughes has been talking to a man named Mateo. He’s some bigshot millionaire who’s trying to convince Congress to go green. He’s made plenty of trips to Washington, particularly to see Hughes. But Hughes is the Director of National Intelligence. Why are they meeting behind closed doors?”

  “Old friends?” Bear guessed.

  “Not that I can tell. They started talking about a year ago. Since then Mateo has been making major moves, selling older companies and acquiring new ones. He’s been purchasing patents for technology related to green energy.”

  “That doesn’t seem strange on paper.”

  “No, it’s doesn’t. But you want to know what does? The fact that the number of green pieces of legislation has nearly tripled in the last twelve months.”

  Bear shrugged. “People are becoming more environmentally friendly.”

  “Goddard was all gung-ho about a pipeline that would’ve made the U.S. less dependent on foreign powers with an oil supply. It’s dead in the water. Just like that.” She snapped her fingers.

  “Pipelines are expensive. That kind of shit happens every day.”

  Cara groaned. She took a step closer. If Bear were a smaller man, he might’ve been intimidated. “Every single one of these things looks like nothing on paper. They look like everyday occurrences. But once you start tracking them, you can see a clear pattern. And it points to Hughes and Mateo.”

  “Is that everything?” Bear asked.

  Her eyebrows knit together. “What do you mean is that everything? Yes, that’s everything. It’s more than enough to start digging through.”

  “I don’t dig,” Bear said. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the SIM card in his phone. Then, he snapped the phone in half and held it out to Cara.

  She took it, her mouth hanging open for a few seconds while she processed what it meant. “What are you doing?”

  “We’re done here. You haven’t given me anything I don’t already know. I appreciate the notebook. I’ll go through it to see if there’s something that catches my eye. I might be able to lean on someone who can get me close to Mateo.”

  “You can’t just leave me here,” Cara said. The shock was starting to wear off, overtaken by anger. Her cheeks flushed again.

  “Yes, I can.” Bear pushed off the tree and started to walk away. “I’m sorry, Ms. Bishop. There’s nothing I can do for you.”

  “You son of a bitch,” Cara said.

  There was enough venom in her voice that Bear stopped and turned around. She gripped the pieces of his phone so tightly that her knuckles had turned white. She stalked toward him, and if there wasn’t such a deadly serious look in her eyes, he might have laughed at this small woman walking up to him like she could take him down with just a single look.

  For a second, he thought maybe she could.

  “You son of a bitch,” she repeated. “I’ve risked everything for this story. My career. My life. I know you think I’m just a young kid who doesn’t know what she’s doing, but I get it, okay? I understand what this means. Hughes and Mateo are only the tip of the iceberg, and if this is just the beginning, I don’t want to see what it looks like when we cross the finish line.”

  “You and me both.”

  “Then help me.” Cara’s voice was less shrill now, but she still said it with force. “I can’t just drop this, Bear. Not when I know I could have done something to stop it.”

  “We don’t have any evidence. We don’t have a way of getting to Mateo without turning the spotlight on us.”

  Cara looked sheepish now. “Actually,” she said, licking her lips nervously, “that’s not entirely true.”

  “So, you were holding out on me.”

  She took a deep breath. “I have a source.”

  “A source?”

  She nodded.

  “Who is it?”

  “Someone important. Someone in the White House.”

  “How do you know someone in the White House?”

  “I don’t,” she said. “They reached out to me.”

  “Who is it?” Bear asked again.

  “I don’t want to tell you that.”

  Bear threw his hands up. “I can’t help you if you’re not honest with me.”

  “I am being honest with you.” Cara jabbed a finger in his direction. “I’m telling you everything I know except this. I’m not going to give you the name of my source. Not yet. Not until I know I can trust you.”

  “You trust Jack, don’t you?”

  “To an extent. But you’re not Jack.”

  “Yeah, no shit.” Jack’s biggest source was a kid with dreams of winning a Pulitzer. He wouldn’t have hung everything on her. “Who is it?”

  “I’m not telling you.”

  “Then I can’t help you,” he repeated.

  “Bear,” she said. Her voice was raw now, trembling. Maybe she’d win an Oscar alongside that Pulitzer. Or maybe she was really that scared. She should be. “Please. I’m willing to let you walk away over this. I’m not telling you who it is. If this is as far as we go, then so be it. But I want to keep going. Jack told me I can trust you. He brought us together for a reason. If nothing else, just trust me on this one, okay?”

  Everything inside Bear was screaming at him to walk away.

  He didn’t.

  “What do they know?”

  “Not what. Who. They can get us a meeting with Mateo.”

  “Okay.”

  “Okay?” The fire was completely gone from her now. “What do you mean, ‘Okay’?”

  “Exactly what it sounds like.” He turned around. “I’ll be in touch.”

  “What?” Cara reached for his arm, but one look made her drop her hand back to her side. “You’re leaving, just like that?”

  “Lay low for a few days—”

  “No, I—”

  “Lay low,” Bear growled. “We can’t be seen together. I need to get my footing. If we’re meeting Mateo, I need to get up to speed. Reach out to your contact.”

  “And then what?”

  “Then we start making moves.”

  When Bear walked away this time, Cara Bishop had the good sense not to follow.

  9

  Studying that map in Millennium Park was a smart play after all.

  After Bear made sure Cara hadn’t followed him, he walked down State Street until he found the Chicago Public Library’s main branch, the Harold Washington Library Center. He made his way through various rooms and bookstacks until he found a table lined with computers. The monitors hummed with energy, but otherwise, the place was dead quiet. Perfect.

  Bear sat down and placed Cara’s notebook in front of him. Only the first ten pages were filled in, but her handwriting was tight and neat. There was a ton of information here. He knew most of it, but the few names and places he didn’t recognize were enough to get him started.

  Although Bear told Cara he didn’t dig, he wasn’t opposed to research duty once in a while. He could’ve called up Brandon and had him track down the people he hadn’t heard of before, but he tried not to tap into that resource too often. Brandon got a little paranoid if you contacted him too frequently.

  Besides, the change of pace was nice.

  It was fairly brainless work. As great a resource as the internet was, some people didn’t have an online presence. Without a police directory to go through, there was only so much he could do. Tracking down some of these names would require a little leg work in the end.

  But it wasn’t until he reached the part that concerned Mateo that Bear really started to get interested. He did a quick search for the billionaire online, but didn’t come across anything damning. As far as the general public was aware, Mateo was an altruistic if eccentric entrepreneur. Those that knew him spoke highly of his philanthropy but didn’t mind poking a little fun at his crazy ideas, like flying electric cars and living in satellite hotels in orbit around the Earth.

  What did catch Bear’s eye, however, was one of Mateo’s frequent collaborators. It was a man named Mitch Waller. He was a tech guru who had fallen on hard times. He wasn’t a billionaire by any stretch of the imagination, but he still lived the billionaire life—all thanks to Mateo. Turns out, they were also childhood friends.

  Waller had specialized in technology relating to artificial intelligence until—big surprise—about a year ago, when he switched over to green technology. He and Mateo had made a big deal about it, opening their own lab and promising advancement every year they were in operation. By the end of 2007, they were pioneers in the field. By November 2008, the green tech world was looking to them for the next big thing.

  But all had been quiet over the last few months.

  Waller, typically more public and sociable than the awkward and arrogant Mateo, was nowhere to be seen. His social accounts were consistently updated, but the statuses were vague and never featured current pictures. Supporters said he was busy developing important, world-changing technology. Conspiracy theorists said there had been government interference.

  Bear was the last one to give much credit to the conspiracy theorists, but it didn’t mean they were wrong. There might not be government interference like they suspected, but it didn’t mean Hughes wasn’t putting pressure on Waller—and by extension, Mateo—to follow through with their promises.

  Bear didn’t notice the tall, thin, elderly woman until she tapped him on the shoulder. He looked up at her, his eyes blurry from staring at the screen. How long had he been there?

  “There’s a two-hour limit on the computers, dear,” she said. She looked kind, but she had a force to her voice that made him want to obey her every command.

  “I’m sorry, ma’am. I’ll wrap this up and get out of your hair.”

  She smiled and patted him on the shoulder. “Thank you, young man. I didn’t want to drag you out of here by your ear.”

  Bear chuckled as she walked away, turning back to the computer and clearing his search history.

  It wasn’t much, but it was enough of a lead to look into. He knew Cara wouldn’t be happy if he didn’t fill her in on the details, but he had no intention of involving her any further. She had her whole life ahead of her. This kind of story could be a career-maker, but that was only if she made it out undetected. She needed to keep her head down. There’d be another story.

  Bear pocketed the notebook and nodded at the elderly librarian as he exited back the way he had come. The chilly Chicago air met him at the exit, and he shoved his hands in his pockets. His research told him that Waller, unlike Mateo, had a house in Chicago.

  Chances are Waller probably wasn’t home. He could be away, with or without Mateo, doing research or shaking hands with the men and women who paid his bills. Or, maybe the conspiracy theorists were right. He could be locked up in his lab, doing whatever he did that got all those tech junkies so excited.

  But if he was home, Bear would have plenty to talk to him about. He needed to get in with Mateo, and Waller was the perfect opening. If he could convince Waller that Mateo was in trouble and Bear was in a position to help, he could probably get a meeting with him.

  Bear hailed a cab and gave the driver directions to Waller’s suburban neighborhood. He wasn’t exactly lowkey when it came to giving his address out. Between the house parties and the media constantly biting at his heels, most people would know where he lived if they spent more than five minutes searching for it.

  Still, Bear elected to be dropped off a few streets over to avoid any unwanted questions from the cabbie. He handed the man a hundred-dollar bill and promised twice that if he stuck around. The man smiled and nodded, then pulled a book from his glove compartment and settled in.

  Bear got out of the car and shoved his hands in his pockets. He tucked his chin to his chest and tried to make himself as small as possible.

  It was an uphill battle.

  Bear didn’t rush to Waller’s doorstep. He took his time, acting like he was going for a nice stroll in the middle of the day. He made sure to wave at everyone who looked his way. More times than not, they smiled and waved back. Even Chicago suburbs were full of people who took good manners at face value. If only they knew what he was capable of.

  His ten-minute walk landed him at the end of Waller’s driveway. He looked left and right, making sure no nosy neighbors were peering out their windows at him, and walked right up to the front door. That’s where he noticed the first red flag.

  The door was ajar a few inches. It wouldn’t be visible from the road. Anyone passing by on the sidewalk would never have known anything was wrong. But Bear did. And it wasn’t just the door. When he pushed forward, he noticed the second red flag.

  A smear of blood leading from the threshold, down the hallway, and around the corner, to the living room.

  10

  Bear reached for his gun. He toed the door partially shut behind him, careful to keep it open enough to make for a quick exit without alerting the neighbors to any suspicious activity. As he inched his way down the hallway, he tried to tune into every single sound inside the house. He heard appliances humming and soft music playing upstairs.

  When he reached the corner, Bear poked his head out and followed the trail of blood to a body slumped against the wall. The man was thin, with his head tipped forward and his hands limply sitting in his lap. Bear walked up to him and used the tip of his sidearm to look into the man’s face.

  It was Waller.