I’d go for a run, drop Peppy off at Free State Dogs, then leave a note for Cady at the junior high, giving her a burner phone number to text or call. I was pulling on my sweats when my phone rang, a local number, not one I recognized.

I wasn’t sure how sensitive Baggetto’s mike was, whether it could pick up voices on incoming calls. I took the phone into the bathroom and sat next to the shower with the water running. Of course, if there was malware on the phone, what difference did it make?

“Is this Detective Warshawski? It’s Sandy Heinz at the hospital. I’m the ICU ward head you spoke to on Wednesday.”

“Sonia Kiel.” I turned off the water.

“She’s regained consciousness. I don’t know how much she can talk or tell you, but you can have a few minutes with her this morning.”

“Does her family know?” I asked.

“Dr. Cordley—she’s the attending, you may recall—phoned Dr. and Mrs. Kiel, but I don’t think she spoke to them: I heard her leaving a message for them to call her.”

“Ms. Heinz, as my investigation has progressed, I think it’s possible someone deliberately harmed Sonia, hoping to kill her. I’ll get to the hospital as soon as I can—in half an hour anyway—but can you make sure you or another nurse is with her if anyone comes to see her? Anyone besides me or Sergeant Everard?”

“Detective, the only person trying to hurt Sonia Kiel is Sonia Kiel herself, but we have a duty to her care. No one can harm her in the ICU.”

From your lips to the NSA’s ears, but that I said to myself. No point wasting time arguing, especially when it could get me labeled as a nutjob who shouldn’t be allowed near a patient. I pulled off my sweats and dressed in jeans and my good jacket. My Italian dress boots, with a change of shoes, two pairs of socks, and my windbreaker for the car. And a change of shirt. A water bottle. Gun with an extra clip, which I locked in the trunk. Yes, today was going to be full of fun.

I didn’t want to leave Peppy alone, in a car or in the B and B, so I took the time to drive over to Free State Dogs before heading into the heart of the downtown.

If Baggetto had bugged my room, chances were he was tracking my car. I parked in the library lot again and stuffed my phone and other electronics in my foil-wrapped day pack. “Tin-Butt” Warshawski, that’s what my South Chicago classmates would be calling me.