“And now the feds are squeezing you?”
“They offered a way out.”
“You mean me.”
She stared at the lines in her hands. I thought about the cracks in our life. When I looked over, it was through a window. Her features scratched and dull. Sealed off from me forever.
“Are you recording this?” I said.
She shook her head.
“Are they following us?”
“They want to know where you’re going. What you’ve uncovered.”
I took out a piece of paper and scribbled down an address. “Fat Willy’s on Western. I’m supposed to meet Rita Alvarez, but she doesn’t know anything. Tell your pals I’m working a lead but wouldn’t tell you about it. Tell them I wanted to protect you.”
She nodded but didn’t look at me.
“That’s all I can give you.” I stuck the note on the dash and reached for the door handle. “Be careful.”
I started to leave. She touched my sleeve.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
I waited.
“Do you really have an idea who might be behind the release?”
“Don’t know yet.”
“Would you tell me if you did?”
“Don’t know that either.”
We lapsed back into silence.
“Can you handle Mags for a couple more days?” I finally said.
She nodded.
“Are you staying outside the city?”
“We’re fine, Michael.”
I opened the door and got out. Halfway across the lot, I wanted to turn around. And that scared me as much as anything.
Rachel picked up her phone and hit REDIAL.
“He’s headed to a place called Fat Willy’s. On Western Avenue.” A pause. “That’s right. Call me again and I swear to Christ I’ll go public and take you down with me.”
She threw her cell to the floor of the car, where it broke into a couple of pieces. Rachel wanted to cry, but there was nothing left inside. Instead, she kicked over the engine and pumped the gas, smoking her tires as she left the lot.
CHAPTER 45
I sat in a booth at the back of Fat Willy’s, sipped at some coffee, and watched my conscience chase my past around the room.
“You look like you just lost your best friend.” Rita Alvarez dumped her briefcase onto the opposite seat and slid in beside it.
“Hey, Rita.”
“Hey.”
The place was empty. A waitress hovered nearby with a menu. Rita ordered a pulled pork sandwich and waited until we were alone again.
“So, what’s the matter with you?”
“Nothing.”
“Looks like something.”
“Some days life sucks.”
“You think?” She pulled a bottle of water from her briefcase, uncapped it, and took a sip.
“I didn’t ask you here to listen to my problems, Rita.”
“I didn’t figure that.”
“You been working the West Side?”
“Feds got the whole place shut down. Reporters tripping over each other.”
“Camp Chicago, right?”
“That’s what they call it.”
“What do you know about what’s going on inside?”
“We know what they tell us.”
“Which is what?”
“There’s been some sort of biorelease. Not sure if it’s an attack or an accident. Got some sick people, maybe fifty dead. They’re hoping the thing’s contained.”
“What did you think of the mayor?”
“On TV?”
I nodded.
“Asshole.”
“You don’t know the half of it,” I said.
Rita’s sandwich came. She took a bite and wiped her mouth with a napkin. “Heaven.” The reporter took another sip of water. “Got a lot of stuff going on today, Michael.”
“This is worth your time.”
“I’m listening.”
“Off the record?”
I expected her to fight me tooth and nail, but Rita just nodded and chewed.
“I just came out of a quarantine zone on the West Side.”
She put down her sandwich. “Jesus.”
“I’m not infected.”
”I wasn’t worried about that.”
“You should be. They’re loading dead bodies onto L trains and shipping them out so they can be cremated.”
“You saw this?”
“I took a ride on one of the trains this morning. They’re also worried the thing might have caught a plane out of O’Hare.”
“How did you get out?”
“Rachel.”
Rita’s eyes flicked to the street. “Where is she?”
“She’s not part of this.”
I could see the reporter adding up bylines and headlines in her head.
“You can’t report any of it, Rita.”
“Let me explain why that’s not a good idea. In the long run-”
“I’m not finished. You know Matt Danielson?”
“The guy from Homeland?”
“Yesterday, he blew his brains out in my apartment. Left me with this.” I pulled out the address to the Korean’s grocery store and watched the reporter blanch. “It’s the same address you gave me on your hospital supply story.”
“I know what it is.”
The waitress came by to check on us. We waited until she left.
“I tried to call Rodriguez,” I said, “but couldn’t get him.”
