He's her enemy. Her obsession. And the only man who has the power to destroy her.
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My name is Frank Monroe, and I am the most dangerous woman in Chicago. Not because I kill, but because I make it legal. I'm the lawyer the Irish mob calls when...
"I'm a fighter. I believe in the eye-for-an-eye business. I'm no cheek turner. I got no respect for a man who won't hit back. You kill my dog, you better hide your cat."
- Muhammad Ali
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The early morning light came through the windows in pale gray strips, and I was already at my desk with a cup of coffee I hadn't touched.
Sleep had done its job, dragging me under for a few hours, but it hadn't done anything for the knot still sitting in my chest. My hands were steady now, though. That was something.
Sawyer knocked once and let himself in, looking like he hadn't slept at all. His shirt was wrinkled, he looked tired, but his eyes were sharp as ever. He closed the door behind him and dropped into the chair across from my desk.
"Cops came through around four this morning," he said. "Uniforms mostly, a couple of detectives. Nobody we couldn't handle."
I leaned back, studying him. "Jamie?"
He shook his head. "Not a trace. I checked twice. Whoever dispatched the call kept it off his radar."
That should have been a relief. Instead, it sat strange in my chest, like a splinter I couldn't reach. Jamie was a detective. If shots were fired in my neighborhood, he should have been the first one through the door.
"What did they find?" I asked.
"Nothing." Sawyer's mouth curved into something that wasn't quite a smile. "We had the scene clean before the first cruiser pulled up. Bodies gone, casings swept, the SUVs towed off the property by the time the uniforms rolled in. Steve was already at Papa's hospital, and the rest of the wounded were moved to a safe house across town. By the time the cops got here, all they found was some broken glass and a few bullet holes in the walls."
"And the neighbors?"
"Nobody saw anything. Or nobody's saying anything." He shrugged. "The ones who did hear the shots got a visit from Papa's friends on the force before they could give a statement. By the time the detectives went door to door, everybody was suddenly deaf."
I nodded slowly, turning it over in my head. Papa had been building relationships with the Chicago PD for decades, greasing palms and calling in favors when it mattered. Tonight, those favors had paid off.
"The story?" I asked.
"Home invasion," Sawyer said. "Two armed intruders, no connection to any known organization. Responding officers found evidence of a break-in, a struggle, and the residents of the home defending themselves. The investigation was closed before sunrise."
"Closed?"
"The responding sergeant took one look at the scene and called it in as a targeted burglary gone wrong. No victims on site, no bodies, no witnesses. Nothing to investigate." He leaned back, crossing his arms. "By the time the detectives got there, the paperwork was already signed off. Case closed, no further inquiries."
