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I listened to him jog up the stairs, then got my coat and left.
I decided to walk back up to Lincoln Park, even though the burst of sunlight in the sky had already been answered by a dark, gray cloud coming in off the lake. Within no time at all, it was pitter-pattering with rain, and the streets had resumed their wintry, gray color. “April showers,” I muttered as I sped up my pace. Why a guy like me, with three private cars and all the money in the world, wanted to walk, I didn’t know, until, after what seemed like forever, I found myself at the Grant monument, where Alicia and I had first met.
What was I doing here? My emotions had led me, unbidden, to the place where I’d first set eyes on Alicia. I could have called her or texted her, but I didn’t. I didn’t know how to explain that there was no way her brother wanted us to be together and that there was going to be some kind of a fight.
Turning around, I looked for my building and set off down the sidewalk.
I’ddecidedtodriveto St. Louis, and that meant bringing the Maserati out of the garage. I’d always loved a long drive—more leisurely than a flight, it allowed you to think and reflect on why you were traveling in the first place.
The Maserati was in the garage. It wasn’t exactly the newest model—I’d bought it about six years ago—but it was well-kept, and I looked after it. Having just been in for its yearly polish, it would be looking incredible. Just the way to arrive in style at a business meeting.
I let myself in the front door and rode the elevator down to the parking garage. I’d already arranged for my housekeeper to pack a light bag containing everything I’d need and put it in the car that morning. There wasn’t even a need to go up to the office.
In fact, I was so pleased with my arrangements that I didn’t notice a crucial detail. When I went into the parking garage, the green lock button on the door was already glowing. Someone had been in there before me. But I didn’t realize that until I saw the car itself.
Its purple paint had been scratched, and I opened my mouth in shock at the hatefully etched pattern of the destruction on the bonnet, like an abstract art painting gone wrong. It looked like someone had taken a pickaxe to each of the windows, which had been smashed in, leaving tiny glowing shards scattered all over the leather interior of the vehicle. A single tire had been slashed—not expertly— someone had stuck a kitchen knife into it and run.
For a few seconds, I stood there silently, and then, remembering I had a phone up to the desk of the concierge installed there, I walked over. I’d just taken the phone off of the receiver when I saw the message scratched on the side of the once-beautiful, now ruined car.
It read:
YOU’LL BE A TERRIBLE FATHER
I put the phone back in. I wasn’t calling the concierge.
I was calling the cops.
Thepolicedidwhatthey could, which was to say, not very much. I now realized that whoever had been threatening me and Alicia was inside my organization. That’s how they’d gotten the information about Alicia’s pregnancy.
It was someone who hadn’t wanted me in Grand Cayman and had done everything to swerve me away from business meetings with clients. Someone who’d set this up so that it was going to potentially damage my career. Someone who had a vested interest in making me lose everything and getting me out of the way.
Slowly, I reached for my phone and dialed the one person I knew I could trust.
“Jim? Is that you?”
“Sure is, Jake. How’re things? You headed out to St. Louis today?”
“That’s right. Been a little delayed, Jim. There’s something I need your help with.”
“Anything for you. I’m on pilot training in L.A. right now. Would do anything for a bit of excitement.”
“Well, Jim, that’s just what I need you for. You were secret service, right?”
“That’s right. I flew Air Force One for eight years.”
“Jim, if I asked you to, how would you feel about surveilling Tom McLaughlin’s office?”
Chapter 17
Alicia
Thefollowingday,Iwoke up in pain.
It was the afternoon, and I’d just gotten back on the morning flight out of Portland. I was exhausted and tired. So, I knew to have a good breakfast and take a nap before I did anything else for the rest of the day. Besides, my head was already a whirling mass of mixed signals.
I wasn’t sure what Jake might not be telling me about the stalker. I knew he was off to St. Louis, but as to why he’d decided not to call me, I didn’t understand. It was like he’d gone back on everything he promised.
Second, there was Sam’s warning, which hung in my ears. Maybe Jake was just kind of an absent guy. Maybe he wasn’t the sort of person who wasmeantto be a father. Or a partner. Maybe I couldn’t count on Jake for any of that.
