“His disease makes it hard for him to get around,” I explained quickly. “I’ve seen him walk. I can’t imagine he would put up such a fight.”
“His disease isn’t as advanced as it appears,” Jonathan said bitterly. “It’s a front, and he’s been using it to excuse his ridiculous behavior for years. Can we change the subject?”
“Sure, I—wait.” I covered his hand with mine to get his full attention. “Did you say you brought Wolf home a few days ago? Which day?”
Jonathan shrugged. “Three nights ago, maybe?”
“The night Megan Hollows died?”
“Who?”
“A woman died in the alley next to the hotel,” I said. “It looked like she’d been badly abused then thrown from a balcony.”
Jonathan’s face twisted in contempt. “That’s disgusting. No one told me that.”
“It was on the news,” I said. “Women have been going missing all over Chicago. The police think Megan’s death might be related.”
“I don’t watch the news.” Jonathan swished a mouthful of wine as if to get rid of the acrid taste of the conversation. “It’s depressing. I’ll tell you what, I’m going to give the Saint Angel managers a piece of my mind for not bringing this up to me. I live there, damn it, and I deserve to know when someone’s been murdered on the property.”
“But you might have walked by her,” I pressed. “If you brought Wolf home that night, maybe you saw the person who did it. Do you remember spotting anyone who looked suspicious around the hotel?”
“I was too busy dragging my inebriated father out of his limo and into the lobby,” he replied. “Though if a woman fell from the sky, I think I would have noticed.”
Our appetizer arrived, and Jonathan eyed it with distaste.
“I’ve lost my appetite,” he announced, but he wore a sly smile. “You’ll have to win it back for me.”
“How am I supposed to do that?”
“Figure it out.”
I swiped my index finger through the balsamic glaze that decorated the plate. Then, with laughable exaggeration, I stuck my finger in my mouth and licked off the glaze. It was not supposed to be sexy. It was meant to make him laugh.
It worked. His surliness evaporated, and we ate the rest of our dinner without further mention of death, murder, or Wolf Godfrey.
At the end of the night, Jonathan walked me to my room at the Saint Angel. As we lingered outside the suite, I shrugged off his coat and handed it back to him.
“Thank you for not letting me freeze,” I said. “And for dinner, too.”
“It was my pleasure.” He folded his coat over his arm. “I’m glad I ran into you. This is the nicest night I’ve had in a while. I don’t want it to end.”
“We can do it again,” I offered. “Soon?”
Jonathan nodded. “I’m looking forward to it.”
He stooped to place a light kiss against my cheek. As I blushed, he waved good night and headed back to the elevator.
Before I scanned my key card, the door swung open. Evelyn, her cheeks pink and furious, filled the frame.
“Who was that?” she demanded.
Were I a larger person, I wouldn’t have been able to slip past her. As it was, I stepped over her outstretched leg, ducked under her arm, and made my way into the room.
“His name is Jonathan,” I said. “Though I’m not sure you deserve an answer.”
“Jonathan who?” she snapped, letting the door slam behind her as she followed me up the loft steps. “What’s he doing here? This floor is reserved for the wedding party.”
“Jonathan Godfrey. He lives in the penthouse.”
“A rich boy, eh?” She scoffed and crossed her arms. “You’ve been gone all day. I’ve been worried sick.”
I whirled around on the iron steps. “I’ve been gone all day? I’m not the one who lied to her best friend.”
She balked. “What are you talking about?”
“I saw Marie earlier with Ned,” I spat at her. For once, I had the high ground, thanks to the height of the stairs. “You didn’t run any wedding errands with her this morning. Where were you?”
Evelyn’s mouth opened, but no noise came out. With a huff, I spun away from her, casting off the leather jacket.
She picked it up from the floor. “You should hang this to keep it nice. Have you oiled it lately?”
“Don’t change the subject,” I said, peeling off my shirt and tossing that to the floor too, right at Evelyn’s feet. “Where have you been?”
Her lips pressed together. “It’s none of your business.”
“It’s not?”
“No.”
“Then my dating life is none of yours.”
Evelyn groaned as I slammed the bathroom door in her face. She knocked from the other side. “Jack, come on! It doesn’t have to be like this. There’s some stuff I can’t tell you. You know that!”
I swung the door open an inch and glared at her through the crack. “No, I didn’t know that. You’ve never kept secrets from me before.”
She bit her lower lip.
“Have you?”
Evelyn’s eyes fell to the ground.
“Have you?” I pressed.
“It’s work,” she said, at last. “It’s my bloody job, all right? They gave me an assignment to do while I’m here in Chicago. That’s why I’ve been sneaking off.”
I let the door drift open a little further. “I thought you told them you weren’t going to take that job.”
She threw her hands up in defeat. “I can’t deny an assignment. Not unless I want them to give my position to someone else and cast me into the street.”
“Does Marie know?”
“No,” Evelyn answered. “You know how my family is about my job. If they knew I was working while everyone else was getting ready for the wedding, I’d never hear the end of it. I hope you won’t tell them.”
“It’s not my business to tell.” I took a deep breath. “Look, Ev. We’re best friends. Is it so hard to let me know where you’re going and what you’re doing?”
She linked her fingers and stretched her arms behind her back. Her shoulder, the one she’d injured last year, popped. “Sometimes, it is. What I do is confidential, remember?”
“You
