Full Disclosure

by Dee Henderson

“Boss?”

  “A month,” Paul replied. “She will want to make very sure there are no leads from this exchange that can be traced back to where she is. She’s going to freeze us so we’re icy cold before we hear from her again. That’s what I would do. I’m afraid that’s what she is going to do.”

  Sam winced. “She’s going to drive us crazy.”

  “I see a lot of time at the gym and at the firing range in our future. The waiting is going to be miserable. Rita, I’m putting you on mail watch. Packages, envelopes, deliveries, anything that might be from her, you have my permission to check for prints and open.”

  “Done.” She considered him. “What does Ann think, boss?”

  “That we’ll catch her.”

  Sam grinned. “I knew I liked her.”

  14

  Sluggers Corner across the street from the gym was a popular stop-off for law-enforcement officers, both local and federal. Paul settled on a stool to watch the last of a ball game and ordered a diet soda to go with peanuts from the basket. The Reuben and the roast beef sandwiches were good, but he was thinking he’d fix a stacked cheeseburger when he finally got home. Ann was in Iowa, and there was no particular reason for him to call it an early evening. Two weeks without word from their lady shooter, and there wasn’t even work in his briefcase to think about. He’d finish the game here.

  “Buy me one of those.”

  Paul glanced over to see Ann sliding onto the stool beside him, and grinned, delighted to have her with him. He wondered why she’d been walking in the rain. “You’re wet.” Paul ordered her drink and tugged open his gym bag for a clean towel.

  “It’s raining.” She took the towel, shrugged off her jacket, and wiped her face. Too many cops in the room noticed the side arm, didn’t recognize her, and didn’t see a badge. Paul held up his.

  “Sorry.”

  “You could turn and say ‘MHI.’”

  “I’d end up talking shop. Tonight, I came to find you.” She accepted the drink with a thanks and picked up a handful of peanuts.

  “Are we on for a movie?”

  She took a deep swallow of the drink, then a deep breath, and turned to face him. “That was my hope, but I got a call. I’m on my way to Ohio as soon as this weather front clears. I’ll likely be there awhile.”

  He saw it then in her face, and heard it in her voice, and his smile faded. “Something bad.”

  “Kind of regret I’m the MHI.” She nursed the soda and shook it off. “Sorry, tougher for the cop on the other end of the call than for me. I’ll know more when I get there. I’ve got a couple of hours before I want to be in the air. I’ll be following the front, and the winds get whippy.”

  “I can provide dinner if you haven’t eaten.”

  “I’ll take you up on that.”

  “Did you drive?”

  “Walked over from seeing Kate.”

  “I’ll bring the car around and pick you up at the door. Let’s find a quieter place.”

  “I don’t mind the rain. Lead the way to your car.”

  He reached for his gym bag and held the door for her.

  A few tough days coming at her and she already looked tired. Paul thought through the evening’s options and turned the car toward his place. “I’ve been practicing at making a really good hot chocolate.”

  She turned her head against the headrest to smile at him. “Sounds wonderful.”

  “I’ll fix us cheeseburgers and fries, and you can flip through my photos and get to know my family. I can give you a laugh or two with some stories I can share.”

  “Thank you.” She closed her eyes. “I was looking forward to the movie.”

  He reached over and took hold of her hand. She turned hers palm up to interlace her fingers with his.

  “My brother Joseph wants to buy a candy business. He sent samples.”

  She smiled. “I hear a family bribe.”

  “Great caramels. The current owner has tried to expand too fast and has too much debt, but the product is good and the employees love the company. We’ll need to find new markets quickly to stabilize the operation at the production levels they need in order to make the expansion carry itself. It’s several hundred thousand more than the Falcon family would normally invest in a business, and the size of the acquisition brings more risk than I’m comfortable with.” Paul shook his head.

  “What are you going to do?”

  “I don’t know. I’m talking to God. Looking for an idea. It’s hard to mitigate the risk. The business doesn’t yet have strong brand value, an intangible asset as best. The production plant is new, but it wouldn’t find a buyer at what was spent to build it. The cash we invest would all be at risk. The debt holders need to be willing to take equity in the company, let us buy them out over time as sales build to match the production that is possible. Hope this isn’t boring you.” He glanced over at her.

  She shook her head. “No, sounds nice, and different than what I’ve got on my plate today. Writing’s a business too, and planes have expenses. You’re on familiar terrain with me. What are you thinking you might decide?”

  “Joseph is good at execution, he’s confident in his abilities, and he could probably pull off the increase in sales in time to meet the debt payments, but part of my job is to protect him from himself. Dad needs to talk to the current debt holders. If there’s a deal where they want to work with us, the family could step in as buyer. Otherwise we need to think more about this one.”

  “Will Joseph agree with you?”

  “He wouldn’t be asking if he didn’t want to listen to advice. Dad is the final opinion whenever we can’t reach consensus.”

  “That will be you in the future.”

  “One day. I’m in no hurry for it to arrive. Dad plans to live a very long time, and that sounds ideal to me.”

  He pulled into his long-term parking space. “We walk from here half a block.” He reluctantly released her hand and came around to open the door for her.

  “Do you like living in this neighborhood?”

  “I do. It’s in the center of the city, but it’s still a neighborhood.”

  He led her through the doors of an architecturally beautiful old brick building, across the lobby, and to the elevators. It took a key to select his floor. “I think I mentioned my family has owned the fourth floor for decades. When my grandfather lived here, I loved to visit. When the choice for me was staying on the East Coast or moving to Chicago, it was this place that made the difference.”

  “Will you stay in Chicago when you take over leadership of the Falcon family?”

  “I took a job with the FBI so I could work wherever the situation needs me to be when that time comes. Jackie loves Chicago and will stay here. Marie likes New York. My father splits his time between here and New York. Harper is comfortable in Boston, Boone in Colorado and Texas, and Joseph has never settled. The cousins are settled on the East Coast.”

  The elevator stopped and opened into an entryway with a marble floor. Facing the elevator was a large statue of a horse and rider, straight out of the Old West. Ann grinned. “This is unexpected.”

  “I promised my grandfather it could remain in its place of honor. The rest of the apartment has been redone in more my style, but he loved the Old West.” He hung up her jacket and then his on a coatrack.

  “With a grandfather like that, you had to love being a boy visiting here.”

  “I did. Okay, living room is to the left, kitchen and dining room to the right, den and office straight ahead, and down the hall four bedrooms. Why don’t you wander around and see the place while I start some dinner?”

  “I’d like that.”

  He was at home in the kitchen and enjoyed the idea of fixing her a meal. He put Jackie’s apple cobbler in the oven to warm and turned his attention to cheeseburgers and fries. Comfort foods were a good fit for an evening like this. Ann wandered into the kitchen twenty-five minutes later and slid onto a barstool. “I like your home. You have a nice collec
tion of art.”

  He slid a mug of hot chocolate over to her, along with a bag of miniature marshmallows. “There isn’t a yard, so I’m inside when I’m home. There isn’t much of a view except other buildings from this floor, so I keep art I like around to have something to see and enjoy. It’s my way to relax. I wander galleries when I’ve got a few hours of free time on a weekend.”

  He turned the hamburgers and added cheese.

  “You don’t have much clutter. It makes me feel a bit uncomfortable.”

  He laughed. “You can relax about that. The idea of living in a cluttered place doesn’t bother me. I just learned to be neat as a very young man, when I didn’t have much stuff and even less room, and I never changed the habit. You’re creative and visual, what you’re working on is out and seen. I’m not so visual. I don’t forget something once I close a drawer. And this is a big place; there’s a place for everything with empty drawers left over.”

  He folded paper towels and scooped the fries from the hot oil to drain. “I’m comfortable with this space even though it’s much too large for me. It’s designed and intended for kids and pets and family and guests. I rattle around here, but I love it. I host a dinner gathering of friends every month or two—Sam and Rita from work, family friends. Family stop by frequently, stay overnight when they want. I watch a lot of sports, I do paperwork on family matters, and I enjoy fixing an occasional meal. It’s a good life, for what Chicago can be.”

  “It suits you.”

  He slid a loaded plate in front of her. “A cheeseburger and fries are best eaten hot. Get started while I finish up.”

  She reached for the ketchup. “No debate from me. I missed lunch.” She settled in to enjoy the meal.

  He fixed his plate and slid onto the stool beside her. “I’m glad you came, Ann.”

  “What did you put in this?”

  “It is Jackie’s secret. I’m not allowed to tell.”

  “It’s a gourmet cheeseburger.”

  He laughed. “I’m good for a meal anytime you want to stop by.”

  “No offense, but I think I need to get to know Jackie.”

  “Her apple cobbler is warming in the oven.”

  “You’re killing me here.” She leaned over against his shoulder and paused long enough to close her eyes. “Thanks. I really needed this.”

  He dropped a kiss on her hair. “My pleasure.”

  She returned to her French fries. “Why did Jackie become a chef?”

  “A food-expert businesswoman.”

  She laughed. “Her words? I love her already.”

  “She runs a kitchen like she’s on a battleship bridge. I don’t know how her chefs survive working with her, but they adore her. They’ve gone with her to start six restaurants now. They get the concept flourishing, train their replacements to meet their standards, and then go on to the next challenge. It lets them take a few months off between restaurants every three or four years.”

  He spun the monitor around and flipped open its protective cover. He tabbed over to the folder where he kept family photos. “We’ve got a private and secure family website where everyone posts pictures and messages, and we keep up with each other’s lives. But my favorite pictures over the years I drop into here.” He stopped on one he’d snapped of Jackie in a restaurant kitchen and pointed her out among the myriad of busy staff. “Jackie.”

  “In the midst of all that commotion, she’s calmly focused on getting a cupcake perfectly iced.”

  “A birthday cupcake.” He flipped to the next photo.

  Ann laughed. “She’s a thrower?”

  “Her version of a pineapple-upside-down cake flopped. To her credit, she cleans up her own messes. She’s tame everywhere but her kitchen, where occasionally emotions get the best of her.”

  “You love her.”

  “Yes. Every year for my birthday and also for my other birthday—the day the adoption became final—she makes me a white cake with chocolate icing and sprinkles.”

  He turned photos and stopped on a picture from last summer. “My brothers—Harper, Boone, and Joseph.” The memory was a good one. They were sitting on the beach as the sun went down, sunburned, windburned, tired, and content. He clicked on one more photo. “My sister Marie.”

  “You haven’t mentioned her.”

  “Because she prefers I don’t brag on her too much. You’re like her in some ways. She hates the limelight and any attention. Marie likes to understand how a business works. How something gets done. How something gets made. She’ll wander around an enterprise asking questions and being curious and come back with what is going on and how it can be changed to make it faster and more consistent, which in turn leads to better service and better quality. She’s the family’s secret special sauce for making a business profitable.

  “She’s married now, lives in New York. Her husband worked for my father, and fell in love with her. You see them together and you think ‘perfect couple.’ She is so happy with him, and he loves her beyond any description.”

  “Marcus and Shari are like that. A perfect fit.”

  Paul got up to get the apple cobbler. “The family is getting together next weekend. If you’re back from Ohio, you should come with me and meet them in person.”

  “You know they are going to get ideas if you bring me along.”

  He smiled. “Falcons aren’t slow about the obvious. I figure they’ll be a plus in my column for what you think about me.”

  “They no doubt will be.”

  He placed a bowl of the apple cobbler with a scoop of vanilla ice cream in front of her and handed her a spoon. “Enjoy.”

  She did.

  He cleared the remains of their dinner, watching her turn reflective and into her own thoughts. He’d caught her glance at the clock. “Going to be okay for a flight tonight? It’s a long trip.”

  “I’m a night owl. The trip won’t be a problem.” She took her time on the last of the cobbler. “She is brilliant with food.”

  She brought over her bowl and slid it in the dishwasher. “Thanks for tonight.”

  He settled his arms around her and gave her a comfortable hug. She leaned against him. “Glad you came and found me,” he said, relieved when she relaxed in his arms, and content with the moment and the memory tonight would be for them both. “Come on. I’ll drop you off at the airport.”

  “I can take a cab.”

  “You could. I’d rather have that time.”

  It was a forty-minute trip, and he let her have the silence. He drove through the private side of the airport and to the hangar she pointed out. “Call me when you land?”

  “Sure.”

  He took her hand to pause her. “If it gets on top of you, call me.”

  She studied his face and nodded. “I will.”

  He released her and watched her stride toward the flight line. He could have asked where in Ohio, could have asked who had called. But some of what she did was, by her own definition, private. She’d help who had called, and he’d do what he could to help her when she got home.

  Paul watched the news, and it didn’t take Ann telling him for him to realize she was working the murder of a cop by another cop. He knew how difficult the days would be for her, but as much as he thought about her, he chose not to call. She’d have her head down doing the job, and sometimes it took that focus to simply survive a difficult case. He waited for the call saying she was finally home. The video call came five days later. “I’m glad you’re home, Ann,” he said, sharing a smile with her.

  “So am I.”

  She looked exhausted, but he kept that opinion to himself. “How’s Black?”

  She rolled her eyes. “You want to borrow him for a few days? He’s sulking, as only he can. He’s not talking to me anymore, and I even brought him presents.” She looked toward the hallway. “Four presents!”

  Black howled back.

  “I’m going to be paying for this trip for a long time. My dog-sitting friends have two young boys
who adore Black. He’s had his photo taken wearing their football helmet, created two masterpiece paw paintings, and had his tail braided with ribbons.” She found the photos and held them up so he could see.

  Paul laughed at the images. That poor dog.

  “Black could put a paw on each boy and hold them in place just by looking at them, so I don’t think he particularly minded the boys. I think the real problem was the four kittens that followed him everywhere, thinking he was their mom. Black actively dislikes cats, even small ones, and there wasn’t a thing he could do about them. He’s not happy with me. He ignored dinner. I’m going to try ice cream next, as that is a decent bribe.”

  “Let me know how that goes.”

  “Will do.”

  “You must be really tired. Why don’t you fix yourself some hot chocolate and go stretch out. I’ll be around.”

  “I think I’d better. Even for me it was a long few days.”

  Paul returned to the den with a bowl of popcorn and a cold drink. He looked over at the screen and was relieved to see Ann stretched out on the couch, her writing pad now on the coffee table. She was either thinking with her eyes closed or she had finally slipped into sleep.

  He found a ball game to watch. He was nearly as tired as she was. The hurry-up-and-wait of the case was grinding him down.

  The ball game finally ended with a pop-up caught in center field. Paul glanced again at the monitor.

  Ann was still sleeping, but it wasn’t a calm sleep. He watched as a nightmare rolled across her face, and saw restless movements as her body fought to get out of the dream. He couldn’t use the video connection to wake her up—she’d muted the audio and hadn’t turned it back on when she’d finished an earlier phone call. He reached for his phone to call and wake her, began to dial. She jerked awake, breathing hard. He slowly put his phone back down. She was deathly pale. She sat up and reached for the balled-up towel and held it against her mouth, trying to stop herself from being sick.

  Black, worried, crowded in beside her. She took a deep breath and another and ran a shaky hand through her hair. Black tried to get up on her lap, and she reassured him with a kiss on his head. She got to her feet, but she was unsteady. She disappeared toward the kitchen.