“Evan?”
I froze just inside the doorway, paused for a moment and then reached down to unhook Odin’s leash. I wanted to yell and scream, but I knew I had to at least appear calm.
“Bridgett. You’ve been a little out of touch.” My voice was cold.
“I need to see you,” she said quietly. “I need to talk to you.”
“Where are you?”
“Would you meet me somewhere?”
She didn’t want to come here or have me pick her up. She wanted to meet somewhere – somewhere else, somewhere not alone.
Could she be any more suspicious?
“Where?”
“What about that place you took me on Michigan Avenue? The bar with the martinis and the waffles?”
“676,” I said. “I’ll be there in ten minutes.”
I knew what she was doing – trying to get me to meet her in a public place because she had something to say she knew I wasn’t going to like hearing and she was afraid of my reaction. The fact that she had stooped to such a level didn’t give me any kind of calming feeling. I was as tense as I could be.
“What did she fucking do?”
I took the Audi, drove up to the valet in front of the Omni, gave the guy a fifty to just hold my car there for a minute, and headed into the lobby. When I turned the corner to head upstairs, I saw Bridgett right by the elevator, waiting for it to arrive and carry her upstairs.
Not going to happen.
I walked over swiftly, took her by the elbow, and began to lead her back to the front of the building. As I had hoped, she was taken off guard enough that she didn’t have time to scream or consider what was happening until I had her outside the building.
“Evan–” she started, but I shushed her.
“Not a fucking word,” I growled. “Don’t you say anything; don’t you do anything. Just get in the fucking car.”
I escorted her around to where the valet was holding open the door, seated her with a smile, and then quickly climbed into my side. I drove off before anyone had a chance to even consider what had just happened.
“Evan,” Bridgett whispered from the other side of the car.
I glanced sideways at her, my jaw tight.
“Tell me,” I snapped. “Tell me everything. Tell me how you know Greco, and tell me what your relationship with him is. Tell me what the fuck you think you are doing!”
The precious little grasp I had over my emotions was waning, and there didn’t seem to be anything I could do to stop it.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” she cried.
As I looked ahead into traffic, I could still see her press herself against the car door like she might jump out and make a run for it. It wouldn’t work, though. I wouldn’t let that happen.
“I came back; you were gone.” I turned around the block and started heading down Grand, over the bridge, and towards the boss’s office. “You want to start by explaining that?”
“I-I-I went outside,” she said. “I just wanted to get some air, but he was there. He said I had to go with him, and we went to an office building – he had a room there in the basement.”
“What office?”
“Just a small one,” she said quietly. “It was brick and didn’t have any windows at all.”
Could he really have been hiding out in the basement of the boss’s main office building? Had he been there, right under my feet the whole time I was looking for him? Was it even who I suspected?