Chapters (54)
- Title Page
- Dedication
- Acknowledgments
- Chapter 1: Media Circus
- Chapter 2: The Woman in the Road
- Chapter 3: House Call
- Chapter 4: Searching for Wheels
- Chapter 5: Diving into the Wreck
- Chapter 6: Sigñor Ferragamo, I Presume
- Chapter 7: Habeas Corpus?
- Chapter 8: Poolside Chat
- Chapter 9: Out of the Mouths of Babes
- Chapter 10: Found in Translation
- Chapter 11: Clean—On the Outside
- Chapter 12: The Lion’s Den
- Chapter 13: Saturday at the Mall
- Chapter 14: Crumbs from the Table
- Chapter 15: Family Picnic
- Chapter 16: A Friend of the Family
- Chapter 17: Spinning Wheels, Seeking Traction
- Chapter 18: These Walls Do a Prison Make
- Chapter 19: Power Dining
- Chapter 20: Child in Mourning
- Chapter 21: We Serve and Protect
- Chapter 22: Night Crawlers
- Chapter 23: A Run to O’Hare
- Chapter 24: Annoying the Giants
- Chapter 25: Reaching Out To—A Friend?
- Chapter 26: If You Can’t Swim, Keep Away from Sharks
- Chapter 27: Hounding a Newshound
- Chapter 28: Friendly Warning
- Chapter 29: Help Me, Father, for I Know Not What I’m Doing
- Chapter 30: The Mad Virgin’s Story
- Chapter 31: A Day in the Country
- Chapter 32: Midnight Caller
- Chapter 33: Thrown in the Tank
- Chapter 34: Fourth of July Picnic
- Chapter 35: A Little Game on a Small Court
- Chapter 36: Bail? Why Leave Such Cool Quarters?
- Chapter 37: In the Big House
- Chapter 38: Prisoners in Cell Block H
- Chapter 39: An Audience with Miss Ruby
- Chapter 40: Sewing Circle
- Chapter 41: Photo Op
- Chapter 42: Slow Mend
- Chapter 43: Planning Session
- Chapter 44: Diving in with the Sharks
- Chapter 45: Fugitive
- Chapter 46: In the Church Militant
- Chapter 47: For Those Who Also Serve
- Chapter 48: Meet the Press
- Chapter 49: Scar Tissue
- Also by Sara Paretsky
- Copyright Page
If I boldly went out the front door, collected my car, and drove to Oak Brook, would I be followed? And more to the point, what would I do when I got there? Climb the security fence on my quivering legs, get arrested for trespassing, try to claim I was responding to an SOS from a twelve–year–old boy whom his successful and beautiful parents would paint as emotionally unstable. Prone to self–dramatization. And maybe they were right. Maybe it was only my animus to Eleanor and BB that made me take their child seriously.
I tried the Baladine mansion one more time, but the phone still rang unanswered. I climbed back into bed, lying rigidly, waiting for the sounds of traffic, of crickets, of drinkers laughing their way up the street, to resolve themselves into menace. There is no worse feeling than not knowing if you are truly alone in your own home. To my surprise, when Peppy pawed at my arm to rouse me, it was eight–thirty.
I rolled over and looked into her amber eyes. “Woof. Sorry, old girl. Bruises and too much of whatever anti–inflammatory Lotty gave me, and I even sleep through fear. Let’s get you out and fetch the paper.”
Ever since Peppy and Mitch learned that bringing in the paper netted a dog biscuit, they like to collect them for the whole building. This morning we were up so late that only my own Herald–Star was still on the sidewalk. Mr. Contreras sent Mitch out to join us, but Peppy drove him off with a serious growl and presented the paper to me, golden plume waving grandly. The encounter made me laugh out loud—a good thing, since the rest of the day was singularly lacking in humor.
I unfolded the paper in the vestibule outside Mr. Contreras’s door. The Herald–Star put Frenada’s death on the front page, under the headline DRUG LORD DROWNS.
Late yesterday, police identified the man pulled out of Belmont Harbor early Sunday morning as Lucian Frenada, owner of Special–T Uniforms in Humboldt Park. Frenada had become the subject of intense investigation by Herald–Star reporter Murray Ryerson, who taped an exposé on the use of Frenada’s small business as a cover for a drug smuggling ring. This story will air tonight at nine on GTV, Channel Thirteen.