Page 141 of No Headlines Please

Some of those questions I'd been asking for months.

Maybe Walt was right. Maybe it was long past time to get some answers.

Maybe – just maybe – it was time to return to Chicago, if only for a day.

54

The Business Card

Maddox

I was back in the office – but only to hand off everything I didn't intend to deal with personally.

It was late afternoon, and I had only an hour left when Andrea, my assistant, appeared at my doorway, looking troubled.

I knew why.

It was a fucking madhouse.

By now, Sloane had been missing for over a week, and I'd pulled in a temp, plus extra security, to help Andrea handle the load.

Still, the load was only getting bigger. Just today, Andrea had fielded more visitors than I normally saw in a year.

This time, she was holding a business card.

With a tight smile, she said, "I'm sorry to interrupt, but I'm not entirely sure what to do with this." She was holding the card between her thumb and forefinger, like it might bite if she didn't handle it carefully.

From behind my desk, I gestured with my pen. "You mean with the card?"

"Yes. I mean…no. I mean the person who gave me the card. They're insisting on seeing you."

This was nothing new. People had been insisting for days. Nearly all of them had been told to shove off.

But with this one, Andrea was acting funny, like the card might explode.

I gave it a glance. "So, you wanna tell me the name on the card?"

"Well, that's the thing…it's one of Cal's cards."

Odd. "But the visitor's not Cal." I knew this, because Cal was part of the security detail keeping gawkers at bay.

Andrea nodded. "Right."

"So?" I gave her an expectant look. "Who is he?" If someone was claiming to be Cal, that was a new one, even for me.

"Actually…it's a she. Someone named Delaney Sinclair."

"Delaney?" Something tightened in my chest. "Here?"

Andrea nodded again. "She claims to know you and said it's really important. And she has someone with her."

I didn't care about the someone else. But I did care about Delaney. Still, I asked the question that needed asking. "This other person – do they have a name?"

"Walt Garvey." Andrea hesitated. "He says he's a witness…or something?"

I frowned. "A witness to what?"

"He wouldn't say. And I wouldn't have bothered you at all, but…" She lowered her voice. "Could this be something about Sloane?"