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“We need to discuss what happened yesterday. There is much about that situation unresolved.”
I nod. Sloppy work is the bane of my existence.
“I know. Griffin ran into some trouble following the girl home.”
Nat’s eyebrows arch, and her mouth twists. “What kind of trouble?”
I narrow my eyes at her and press my lips together. “Apparently, they were not taking the girl home as planned. The police got involved. Shots were fired, and one of the guys got away. I want him found.” I don’t leave room in my voice for debate. “Incompetence isn’t tolerated here. You know that.”
She shrugs and opens the black planner she carries around with her. She thumbs through the pages until she finds what she’s looking for. “I have two guys perfect for the job. Let’s get some air,” Nat announces. She doesn’t wait for me to agree or disagree. She simply walks toward the balcony, expecting me to follow. She is the only person in the world that gets to do that with me.
“The CIA wants to know where we are on the Jackson case,” she says once we are outside. I slide the door shut behind me and suck in a breath of fresh air. When was the last time I came out here? I don’t even remember.
“Hello? Are you even listening?”
I exhale, annoyed. I hate working with the government. Bureaucrats are all the same. The one thing no one in the government wants to say is I don’t know. So the lower-level minions want constant updates on anything they’re involved with.
“Tell them, once again, that as soon as something develops, they will know that instant.”
Nat goes through several more agencies, essentially wanting the same thing. Like I said, all the same.
“There’s a Darius Green inquiring about having an extended stay at the hotel.”
My eyes narrow at the name. I’ve heard of him before. He has fingers in basically anything illegal in the Chicago area. He could be a wealth of potential favors. He must have someone after him if he’s trying to lie low here.
“You looked into him?”
“Yes.” Nat nods. “I approve.”
“Then he is staying. Put him in the Nixon suite. But I’d like to know what he does in private.”
Nat nods as she jots down my instructions. A buzz in my pocket grabs my attention. I pull my phone out and wait until it unlocks. Griffin’s sent me an update on my little intruder.
“Did you handle that massage therapist chick?”
Not looking up, I smirk. “Of course, she is safe and sound at her apartment. Surveillance is being set up as we speak, and the background check should be coming at any moment.”
Laughing, she heads back inside. “Sorry, I should have known you’d be all over that.”
I want to ask her what she means by that, but the glass door slides shut before I get a chance. Turning my attention back to the phone, I read Griffin’s notes. He already filled me in on what happened after she left here, but I had him do a little background check to ensure she won’t be a threat after all.
Griffin: Parents died in a car wreck. Brother adopted her when she was 16. Never went through the foster system.
Good, she didn’t lie.
Griffin: Lives in an apartment in a shitty neighborhood with a chick named Ainsley Fisher. Other than that, she doesn’t seem to have a lot of friends.
Neither do I. So I won’t hold that against her.
Griffin: She works in a grocery store five days a week and at a dive bar on the weekends. She gets around by bus usually. No car. She doesn’t even have a driver’s license.
Her life is so boring, it would make my accountant yawn. Yet I can’t seem to stop reading about her insignificant, simple existence.
Griffin: According to her Facebook status, she is single and has been for a while.
Me: Good work.
I shove my phone into my jacket, but my mind is still hung up on what happened yesterday. I have to do something to get this situation out of my head. Digging in my pocket for my key card, I make my way back inside and through my suite. I’ll blow off some rounds. That usually makes me feel better. I grab my earbuds and head toward the elevator.
