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Harris pursed her mouth. “Don’t say it like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like you’re worried about me.”
“What’s wrong with being worried about you?”
“How would you feel if I asked you that?” Harris placed a hand on Cassie’s shoulder and stared directly into her eyes. “How are you doing?”
“I would be grateful.”
“You’d be offended.”
“Fine.” Cassie rolled her eyes. “I’ll pretend like I don’t care.”
“You’re not supposed to worry about me,” Harris amended. “I’m supposed to worry about you.”
“Okay, now I am offended.”
A smile broke across her face. “Good.”
“Seriously, though.” Cassie didn’t want to press the subject, but they couldn’t avoid it forever. “You dragged me to Chicago on a whim. I’m allowed to check in.”
“It wasn’t a whim, and I didn’t drag you here. From what I remember, there was little to no hesitation before you agreed to meet me,” Harris said. “And yes, I’m fine. All things considered.”
All things considered. Cassie let the phrase roll around in her mouth. It tasted bitter. The thing they were considering was David’s death. She supposed she was also fine if she didn’t incorporate her feelings about her best friend’s murder into the equation. But how could she not? It took up every inch of her brain space. She couldn’t get away from it if she tried. And she’d definitely tried.
“Whim or no whim,” Cassie said, “I can’t stay here long. People are already asking questions at work. I can’t miss too many more days.”
Harris’ playful air vanished. “We’re talking about figuring out what happened to David. David,” she said, like Cassie had forgotten who this was all about. “Let them ask questions.”
“I can’t lose my job, Adelaide.”
Harris took a big breath and held it for a few seconds before exhaling through her mouth. “I know. I’m sorry.” She looked like she meant it, but frustration still coated her words. “And I appreciate you coming out here with me. The dead of winter isn’t exactly the best time to be in Chicago.”
As if on cue, an icy breeze tore through the park. Cassie pulled her jacket up around her neck. “I miss Savannah.”
Harris spread her arms wide. “Don’t get me wrong, I love Chicago. It reminds me of Montana.” She cut a glance sideways. “But I can’t deny that you’re less likely to lose a couple appendages to frostbite in Georgia.”
“Let’s walk.” Cassie gestured to the path ahead. “I can already feel the hypothermia setting in.”
“Don’t be such a baby,” Harris replied, but she cut to the left and led Cassie down another path.
Cassie pushed her hands deep into her pockets. “Tell me more about this flash drive.”
“I haven’t looked through the whole thing yet—”
Cassie stopped dead in her tracks. “So, you see one piece of information that points to Chicago, and you decide to hop on a plane? You haven’t even gone through the entire drive yet?”
Harris rolled her eyes and grabbed the crook of Cassie’s elbow, dragging her forward. “Relax. There are a lot of files on the thing, and they’re not all labeled. I’ve gone through a good portion of it, but there’s still a lot to figure out. Some of it’s coded. Some of it’s a bunch of numbers without context. It’s going to take time.”
The chill in the air made Cassie snippy. “And remind me again why we’re here?”
With all the patience of a parent explaining to her child why the sky is blue, Harris said, “Randall Sherman was an accountant. He came forward a few weeks ago wanting to turn on Aguilar. We figured he was running Aguilar’s books.” She patted the pocket of her wool coat. “And considering what’s on here, it looks like we were right.”
“What made him want to turn?”
“His wife is pregnant. He thought he was in too deep, and he got cold feet.”
