The Buick Park Avenue left the highway for a two-lane service road marked with a blue and white wooden sign that read Stars Drive. Annette Miles, the driver who had picked Phoebe up at O’Hare, had been Bert’s secretary for several years. She was in her late forties, overweight, with short, graying hair. Although polite, she wasn’t particularly communicative, and there had been little conversation between them.

Phoebe was tired from having gotten up at dawn to catch her early flight and she felt tense about what lay ahead. Trying to relax, she gazed out the passenger window at the wooded landscape. Stands of oak, walnut, maple, and pine lay on both sides of the service road, and through a gap in the trees to her right, she could glimpse a cyclone fence.

“What’s over there?”

“A regulation-size grass practice field, along with a seventy-yard field. The trees keep the area private from the gawkers.” She passed a turnoff with a rectangular blue and white sign marking a delivery entrance. “Your father bought this land from the Catholic church in 1980. There used to be a monastery here. The complex isn’t fancy—not like the Cowboys’ or Forty-Niners’ facilities—but it’s functional, and the Midwest Sports Dome isn’t far away. There was a lot of controversy when the dome was put in, but it’s brought a great deal of money into DuPage County.”

The road curved to the right and up a gentle incline toward an architecturally unimpressive two-story, L-shaped building made of gray glass and steel. Its most pleasant aspect was the way the glass reflected the surrounding trees, softening the building’s utilitarian look.

Annette pointed toward a paved lot marked for reserved parking. “I had your father’s car brought over from the house as you asked. It’s parked by the side entrance. Normally you’ll want to use it, but today I’ll take you in through the lobby.”

She pulled into the visitor’s space closest to the front entrance and turned off the engine. Phoebe got out. As she approached the building, she found herself wishing she’d brought Pooh along as a security blanket instead of leaving her with Viktor. She caught sight of her reflection in the double glass doors. This outfit, a pearl gray trouser suit, was the closest thing she had to business attire. She wore an indigo silk shell beneath the short jacket and matching indigo sandals fastened with delicate gold chain T-straps. Her hair curved in sleek blond sickles away from her face. The only frivolity she had permitted herself was a purple and white wooden panda pin on her lapel. And her rhinestone sunglasses.

Annette opened one of the double glass doors for her. Each door held the team logo of three interlocking gold stars in a sky blue circle. Pushing her sunglasses to the top of her head, Phoebe stepped inside her father’s world.

The semicircular lobby, predictably carpeted in sky blue, held gold vinyl chairs and a curved white reception desk with blue and gold stripes. A trophy case sat at one end, along with citations, posters, and a framed display of all the NFL team logos.