stereo.
“—and in further news, a Minnesota family is appealing for anyone to come forward who may have seen the driver of a light blue Honda Civic along the Chicago stretch of the tollway four nights ago,” the announcer said. “The forty-year-old was expected by his family nearly forty-eight hours ago, but has not been seen for over three days. His car was found abandoned on a stretch of the tollway near the suburb of Hoffman Estates.”
Jay flicked off the radio.
Chapter Thirteen
Jay sat in the semidarkness, the dim streetlights illuminating the interior of his borrowed car. He’d been on plenty of stakeouts during his career, and was armed with enough hot coffee and doughnuts to see an entire team of overweight cops through a long, chilly night. But unease settled in his gut, and the sugary food remained untouched on the passenger seat next to him. This was the first time he had ever staked out a coworker and friend.
He shifted lower in his seat. He was not on official business, so he couldn’t requisition any of the “dead” plates used by the CPD for stakeouts. Instead, he had borrowed a buddy’s car, a family sedan with a baby seat in the back. Berg was smart and hard to fool, even in her current state, so he was parked well down the street from her apartment.
His decision to watch Berg had not been an easy one to make. However, after she denied leaving the apartment and his chat with her nosy neighbor, not to mention her unwillingness to clear her own name, he figured this was the only way he could find out what was going on.
Jay didn’t want to think she could be responsible for any murders, but doubt had started gnawing at him. It was clear she was hiding something. He was glad Consiglio hadn’t found out about Berg’s late-night outings yet; he really wished he hadn’t.
Yawning, he tried to stretch. It was after eleven and he had already been on the unofficial stakeout for a few hours. He had punished himself at the gym while rationalizing the decision, and his muscles ached. Adding to the discomfort was the fact he was starting to suspect he was sitting in baby puke. Taking a long slug of coffee, he hunched down lower in the seat and waited.
It was nearly two hours later when his patience was rewarded. He spotted Berg’s silver car nosing out of her parking garage. Climbing out of the back and starting the car, he followed her until she turned ahead. He fell further back on purpose, taking care to switch lanes regularly, as he drove behind her for fifteen minutes.
There wasn’t much traffic, and he hoped she was distracted as he tailed her deep into the southwest of the city. She continued on to the old meatpacking district, an area now renowned for its slums and gang crime. Jay had no idea why Berg would be headed there at night on her own. He killed his lights.
A few minutes later, Berg pulled over and parked down a side street before stepping out of her car swiftly, her head down.
Jay pulled over as Berg strode down the road. He was confused, because she seemed to be heading toward a disused industrial site. It had been raining and the streets were shiny with moisture, giving the appearance of cleanliness. But this was anything but a sanitary part of town, and he hoped Berg had her wits about her, or at least had a gun in her pocket.
Wearing a long coat belted at the waist and knee-high boots, Berg crossed over the road and ducked down a couple of small side streets before turning into a tiny alleyway between the old buildings.
Unable to see her any longer, Jay swore, then ran over the road and ducked down the same alley. He stopped, drizzle misting his hair lightly as he stared down the empty alley. What the fuck?
Berg was gone.
Jay trotted to the end of the alley and rattled the tall, padlocked chain fence, checking for any openings. Unless Berg was moonlighting as Spiderman, it was a dead end. Looking left and right, he checked behind a few Dumpsters in case she had
“—and in further news, a Minnesota family is appealing for anyone to come forward who may have seen the driver of a light blue Honda Civic along the Chicago stretch of the tollway four nights ago,” the announcer said. “The forty-year-old was expected by his family nearly forty-eight hours ago, but has not been seen for over three days. His car was found abandoned on a stretch of the tollway near the suburb of Hoffman Estates.”
Jay flicked off the radio.
Chapter Thirteen
Jay sat in the semidarkness, the dim streetlights illuminating the interior of his borrowed car. He’d been on plenty of stakeouts during his career, and was armed with enough hot coffee and doughnuts to see an entire team of overweight cops through a long, chilly night. But unease settled in his gut, and the sugary food remained untouched on the passenger seat next to him. This was the first time he had ever staked out a coworker and friend.
He shifted lower in his seat. He was not on official business, so he couldn’t requisition any of the “dead” plates used by the CPD for stakeouts. Instead, he had borrowed a buddy’s car, a family sedan with a baby seat in the back. Berg was smart and hard to fool, even in her current state, so he was parked well down the street from her apartment.
His decision to watch Berg had not been an easy one to make. However, after she denied leaving the apartment and his chat with her nosy neighbor, not to mention her unwillingness to clear her own name, he figured this was the only way he could find out what was going on.
Jay didn’t want to think she could be responsible for any murders, but doubt had started gnawing at him. It was clear she was hiding something. He was glad Consiglio hadn’t found out about Berg’s late-night outings yet; he really wished he hadn’t.
Yawning, he tried to stretch. It was after eleven and he had already been on the unofficial stakeout for a few hours. He had punished himself at the gym while rationalizing the decision, and his muscles ached. Adding to the discomfort was the fact he was starting to suspect he was sitting in baby puke. Taking a long slug of coffee, he hunched down lower in the seat and waited.
It was nearly two hours later when his patience was rewarded. He spotted Berg’s silver car nosing out of her parking garage. Climbing out of the back and starting the car, he followed her until she turned ahead. He fell further back on purpose, taking care to switch lanes regularly, as he drove behind her for fifteen minutes.
There wasn’t much traffic, and he hoped she was distracted as he tailed her deep into the southwest of the city. She continued on to the old meatpacking district, an area now renowned for its slums and gang crime. Jay had no idea why Berg would be headed there at night on her own. He killed his lights.
A few minutes later, Berg pulled over and parked down a side street before stepping out of her car swiftly, her head down.
Jay pulled over as Berg strode down the road. He was confused, because she seemed to be heading toward a disused industrial site. It had been raining and the streets were shiny with moisture, giving the appearance of cleanliness. But this was anything but a sanitary part of town, and he hoped Berg had her wits about her, or at least had a gun in her pocket.
Wearing a long coat belted at the waist and knee-high boots, Berg crossed over the road and ducked down a couple of small side streets before turning into a tiny alleyway between the old buildings.
Unable to see her any longer, Jay swore, then ran over the road and ducked down the same alley. He stopped, drizzle misting his hair lightly as he stared down the empty alley. What the fuck?
Berg was gone.
Jay trotted to the end of the alley and rattled the tall, padlocked chain fence, checking for any openings. Unless Berg was moonlighting as Spiderman, it was a dead end. Looking left and right, he checked behind a few Dumpsters in case she had
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