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JL
Micki and I have just entered the building and we watch Cress check her watch as she waits just inside the grand replacement for the former library, now the city’s cultural center.
“What time does the tutoring finish?”
She startles, then glares at me.
“They’ll clean everything up by six fifteen. Max should be here by then.” As we walk toward the room designated for the tutoring session, I scan the area. Several security guards form a little pod. I kiss Micki lightly on the cheek and go over to talk to one of them.
The guy writes on a clipboard and looks up as I close in. Holding out my ID, I say, “Hi. I’m JL Martin from WatchDog, Inc.” When he looks blank, I add, “Our parent company is Global Security Unlimited.”
“Heard of your outfit. Looking for a new job?”
“Not exactly,” I say with a laugh, then point to the room Micki and Cress are in. “Just dropping off some friends who are in a tutoring session over there.”
“You waiting for them?”
I chew on my lip. “I was going to check in with my office, but…”
“They should be fine here. Our security is first rate.”
“I’m sure it is, but a stalker has been threatening them.”
“Give me the deets and I’ll watch out. You’re coming back, right?”
“Six fifteen, they told me, but I’ll be back a bit earlier.”
He brandishes his pen. “Go.”
“Mid-forties, about five foot ten or so, slouches, light hair, balding, paunch, and dresses in overalls.”
“Got it. We’ll keep an eye out. See you in an hour.”
With a sketchy salute, I walk out into the chilly darkness, signal a passing cab, and take off for the office and the mass of paperwork I’m sure awaits me.
Forty-five minutes later, I’m on my way back to the library, this time with Max. We’re dropped off at the entrance and Sean, one of my new guys, hovers at the curb. Business is booming and I’ve been on a hiring spree. The security guard greets me. “All quiet on the library front,” he says. We give him a thumbs-up for the à propos twist on the literary reference.
The door to the tutoring room swings open and a group of noisy kids spills out, followed by the tutors. Micki and Cress are talking with a well-dressed man carrying an attaché case. They stop a few steps away from the door. After a few minutes, he waves and walks off. Cress spots Max and gives a little squeal as she rushes in our direction. Micki seems more relieved than anything when I look into her eyes.
“We left the SUV waiting outside,” Max says, herding us toward the door.
“Thanks for keeping an eye out,” I tell the guard as we pass.
“Always vigilant, that’s us,” he says. “If you ever want a job, just let me know.”
We smirk at each other, while Max’s eyes narrow and he whispers, “What porkies have you been feeding him?”
I elbow him in the ribs. “La blague seulement.”
“A joke, huh?” But he doesn’t laugh.
The walk from the entrance to the Uber is short, but I can’t help scanning the area constantly, especially the ragged-looking guy approaching. When he gets close enough, he’s holding outStreetwise, the Chicago paper that raises cash for services to help the unhoused. Micki already has her wallet out, but I put a hand on hers and shake my head. Max hands over more than the requisite amount. Putting a hand on Cress’ back, he steers her into the SUV and crowds in next to her. We hop in from the other side.
When we pull up to the curb, Max holds up a hand, then opens his door, checking carefully for oncoming traffic. Once on the sidewalk, he walks all the way to Maggiano’s on the corner and back past the doorway to the other end of the block, with a casual glance around as if trying to find an entrance. When he gets back, he opens the passenger side door and helps Micki, handing her over to me before retrieving Cress.
“Thanks.” He slams the door, then motions for the driver to park. By then, Micki and I are at the entrance and Max waves us to go in before putting his arm around Cress and guiding her forward. A little icy rain makes the sidewalk slick and Cress has taken a tumble or three in the past.
