There was no welcome desk, no one to ask for directions. But a monster bulletin board listed every office in the building. “We want 1102,” Dennis said. “Where are the elevators?”

“Around the corner,” Maggie said. “Looks like a ton of security. Get ready to shed everything but your undies.” She forged ahead and plopped her backpack on the conveyor belt but not before she was asked for her ID. The others followed suit. Cyrus was the last in line after Jack.

“Sorry, sir, no dogs allowed,” the guard said.

“He’s a service dog. He goes where I go. Cyrus!”

Cyrus stepped forward and offered up his paw with a short, soft bark.

The guard blinked and turned to his partner. “Did you see that, Sid? Now ain’t that somethin’? Well, okay then, big fella, you’re good to go.” Ham that he was, Cyrus barked again and dipped his head in acknowledgment.

The gang started off, Jack and Cyrus at the end of the line. Jack suddenly turned around and walked over to the guard. “Excuse me, but by any chance do you know Zack Meadows?”

“Well, I don’t know him personally, but yeah, I know who he is. Is that who you’re going to see?”

“I am. Do you happen to know if he’s in today, or has he gone out to lunch yet?”

“I saw him about an hour ago. He usually comes in early, just when I start my shift at six-thirty. He could have left by the back stairway or taken the elevator down to the lower level where the garage is. I usually see him just in the morning. I hardly ever see him later in the day. He’s not what you would call a friendly man. Doesn’t even say good morning.”

“Okay, thanks.” Not to be outdone, Cyrus let loose with a sharp bark and offered his paw again. He allowed the guard to ruffle his ears. He was doing his part.

The elevator was small and smelled like Brut and some kind of flowery perfume. Cyrus sneezed. When the elevator stopped on the eleventh floor, Cyrus was the first one out.