Chapter 13 — Missing Persons

_January 6, 2003, Chicago, Illinois_

🎤 Steve {br}

At 4:20pm on Monday, after a full day of working on the NIKA backend system, I left the office to meet Shaye at Caribou, across from 550 West Jackson, where we had our temporary offices. When I arrived, she was sitting at a table and hopped up to join me at the counter. She ordered hot cocoa, and I ordered a coffee of the day, both of which I paid for. When our orders were ready, we took our cups and sat at a table in the corner.

"How many times has that worked?" Shaye asked with a twinkle in her eye.

"That was the first time I've tried it," I chuckled. "And mostly, it was done to tease Penny. I was shocked that it actually worked!"

"I was surprised someone would try something so corny! And I surprised myself by writing my name and number on the pad and giving it to you."

"Care to share?"

"I figured someone so corny had to be fun, and you didn't seem creepy in any way and very friendly. I did that, handed it to you, and as I walked away with your order, I thought it might have been a bad idea."

"You could have politely declined when I called you," I said.

"I was actually going to do that, but then decided that it would be tacky to have given you my number then say 'no'. And when you suggested meeting for coffee, I figured that was totally safe. I was also intrigued by you saying that your ex working for you only scratched the surface of strange. My natural curiosity took over at that point."

"I do need to tell you a few very important things," I said. "But please hear me out and let me finish. After that, you can ask questions or take off if you want."

"Uhm, OK," she said, sounding concerned.

"I'm not a stalker or psycho," I said with a smile. "But of course, that's exactly what a stalker or psycho would say!"

Shaye laughed, which was a good sign.

"True!" she agreed. "Go ahead."

"I have what some people would call an open relationship. I'm in a committed, lifelong relationship, but I'm free to date or have other relationships, however I see fit, within a set of rules. That means flirting with you, getting your number, and meeting you here was not cheating or an attempt to cheat, and I could, if I chose, take this as far as you were willing, assuming you were. It's much more complicated than what I just said, but that's the gist."

"You're married? I should have known!"

"Sorry. If that's a non-starter, I totally understand. As I said, you can ask questions, or if you're completely uncomfortable or not interested, I won't be upset or offended if you walk out."

"Did you just feed me a line?"

I shook my head, "No. My relationships are complex, and I have the freedom to conduct my relationships as I please, including having a long-term girlfriend."

"You're looking for another mistress?"

"That implies keeping it secret. I wouldn't, and in fact, couldn't, because complete openness is one price of the freedom I have."

"Your wife is seriously OK with you having girlfriends and, by implication, fooling around?"

"Not only OK but encourages it. It's a long story, and I can tell you most of it if you really want to know. But suffice it to say, she'd not just be OK with me seeing you; she'd approve."

"What does she do?"

"She's an Attending trauma surgeon at UofC Hospital," I replied. "We met when she was in medical school. We negotiated our agreement while we were dating long-distance because she was in Indianapolis and I was in Chicago. We've been married for just over seventeen years."

"Kids?"

"She and I have two, a boy who's thirteen and a girl who's eleven."

"Implying you have kids by other women?"

"Yes. Again, it's complicated."

"It feels like you're being cagey."

"I am, because my life is very unconventional, and there are prudes and Puritans and busybodies who would cause more trouble than I care to think about if I was completely open with someone I had just met."

I had been with Emma, but the vibe had been very different. I knew zero about Shaye beyond what she studied and where she worked, so I was being circumspect, as my wives and I had agreed.

"Let me guess; I go to bed with you, and you'll tell me everything?"

"No. That _might_ happen, but it really depends on what you want. You can obviously refuse to answer, but when you gave me your number and when you agreed to meet me, what were you thinking was going to happen?"

Shaye laughed, "As if!"

"That actually answers my question, I said.

Shaye was quiet, and I simply let the silence build until Shaye was uncomfortable and finally said something.

"If I don't answer, that's it? I should just leave?"

"That's up to you," I replied. "You implied I was using caginess to lure you into bed, but that's not true. Let me go first, and you can decide if you want to stay or leave. I was attracted to you the moment I saw you. When you stepped onto the menu, I realized you were playful and knew how to enjoy life. When you gave me your number, and it was your real number, I was confident that you were attracted to me.

"When you agreed to meet, I took it as a possibility it would lead where you suggested. That is absolutely something that interests me, and I'll say it flat out — you're sexy, and I'd love to go to bed together if that's what we both want and you think it's the right thing to do. If not, then we either go our separate ways or explore some other relationship, which might or might not lead to the same destination.

"Whether I take you into my confidence and give you the entire scoop, which is about as strange as anything you'll encounter outside a Heinlein novel, is a different thing, which is not connected to going to bed the way you think it is. In fact, the usual progress is I reveal everything, and the shock factor results in a completely new way of thinking, which often, but not always, results in having sex.

"The question before you is whether you have the confidence to express your feelings and a willingness to rethink everything you've been taught. In other words, how open is your mind? If it's not open to truly countercultural thinking, then finish your cocoa, and I'll see you the next time in the café for lunch. On the other hand, if you have the usual worldview of an artist, then stay, and we'll talk. It's up to you."

————— {br}

_January 6, 2003, Oswego, Illinois_

🎤 Matthew {br}

"Nobody has seen Maggie?" Mr. Fruits asked on Monday afternoon when the drama club gathered.

"No," I said. "I spoke to the Aurora Police, and they're looking for her."

"I spoke to them as well," he said. "I think they called everyone here, right?"

Everyone nodded or said 'Yes' or 'Yeah'.

"I made flyers," Mr. Fruits said. "I want each of you to hand them out to your neighbors. I'll hit all the businesses in Oswego and Montgomery. The office staff are putting them up in the school right now. I know it's tough, but we need to begin working on _Fiddler on the Roof_, as we have only eight weeks and three days before opening night."

Nobody's heart was in it, but we ran through the chorus numbers, and Mr. Fruits had individuals sing some of the solo parts so he could decide who to assign to those roles. When practice finished, I rode home with Lisa, a Senior who lived in our subdivision, and we agreed to divide the subdivision in half and hand out the fliers.

[Chicago, Illinois] {br}
🎤 Steve {br}

{psc} Before Shaye could answer, a nice-looking woman with long black hair approached the table, who I guessed was about my age but perhaps a few years younger.

"Hi, Shaye!" she exclaimed.

I almost laughed because I was positive this was one of the oldest ploys in the book — a friend showing up about fifteen minutes after a coffee date began, giving the girl a chance to bail while maintaining a façade of happenstance. It didn't bother me, as it was a way to effectively defuse what might be am uncomfortable situation.

"Hi, Deanna. Steve Adams, my mentor, Deanna Haight. Deanna, Steve Adams."

"Nice to meet you," I said. "I take it you're an artist?"

"Painter," Deanna replied. "I graduated from the School of the Art Institute in 1986."

"What do you paint?" I asked.

"Mostly abstract, but I've dabbled with other things as well. You're some kind of IT executive?"

"Yes and no. I'm President and majority shareholder of my company, but my day-to-day work is as a software engineer. Do you work besides in your studio?"

"I give art classes at a workshop sponsored by my patron, mentor a Freshman student every year at the School, and paint, of course."

"Old school?" I asked.

"You mean having a patron? It beats waiting tables to be able to eat!"

"Starving artist?"

"No, but I play one at art shows! My patron is fairly generous. He runs his own company, too."

"Mind if I ask what he does?"

"He runs an investment company, Clermont Capital."

I chuckled, "I've met him, then. I'm from Milford, Ohio."

"GET OUT!" she exclaimed. "Me, too!"

"Not meaning any offense, but you're about my age, and I'd remember you from Milford High. Private school?"

"McNicholas. I was a good Catholic girl, at least until I came to Chicago!"

"I was never a good Catholic boy," I chuckled. "Much to my priest's and my mom's chagrin!"

"Father Buschmiller at Saint Andrews, right?"

"Yes, but I quit going around age fourteen."

"We mostly went to Saturday evening mass."

"Sundays mostly for me, which explains why I didn't see you there. Shaye, I won't be upset if you want to use your 'friend in need' escape."

Shaye and Deanna both laughed.

"That obvious?" Shaye asked.

"It's a tried and true ploy," I said. "And I'm not offended because it's wise and gives you an easy way to walk away without being rude. I invited you for coffee in a place with open seating to ensure you were comfortable and could walk away at any point."

"Shaye, come chat for a sec," Denna said. "If your guy doesn't mind."

"He doesn't," I said.

They moved to a spot far enough away that I wouldn't overhear the hushed conversation. I sipped my coffee and waited, and about four minutes later, the girls hugged; Deanna left, and Shaye returned to the table.

"I'm glad you decided to stay, however this turns out," I said.

"Deanna said that you're hot, and if I wasn't interested, I should give you her card!"

"Good to know! She's not in a committed relationship of some kind?"

"I actually don't know much about her relationships, but I know her patron pays for her studio, the art workshop she runs, and gives her a stipend. I can put two and two together and know they make four, but I actually don't know if that's true or not."

"So, she's circumspect about her relationships?" I asked with an arched eyebrow.

"I walked right into that one, didn't I?"

"Yes. Shall we go back to the conversation?"

Shaye smiled, "Deanna reminded me how she met her patron."

"Something you could share without violating a confidence?"

"She's never been shy about how they met. He was an up-and-coming guy at another firm, and one of her friends had chatted him up while waitressing at Ed Debevic's. That friend showed up at the future patron's apartment with a bottle of Jack Daniel's. That became the running gag because he was under twenty-one, so this girl and a friend would trade bottles of Jack for sex, though it wasn't really a trade, if you know what I mean."

"I get it. When I was under twenty-one, I had a supplier with similar benefits."

"Anyway, those friends brought Deana to visit once, and she brought a bottle of Jack, so he knew she wanted to screw. The two other girls moved on, which was their thing, according to Deanna, but she kept seeing the guy. He bought a house, she moved in, and he rented her an attic room, which was a combination studio and bedroom. Not too long after, he was promoted and offered her a stipend plus room and board. He's been sponsoring her ever since."

"And?" I prompted, confident I knew where this was going.

Shaye laughed, "She quoted her patron — what's worth doing is worth doing for money!"

I laughed, "I've said that myself. That leads to an important question, though you might not know the answer — was sex a _quid pro quo_ for his patronage?"

"No. That had ended because…well, call it personal circumstances for her patron. Whether it ever started again, I can only speculate. I assume it did, but I can't say for sure because she is, as you observed, circumspect."

"Deanna's suggestion aside, is that something that interests you? Finding a patron?"

"I'll turn it around — is that something you would do?"

"I have, once before, for a medical student. My patronage ended when she married because her husband wasn't comfortable with the idea."

"Duh!" Shaye exclaimed.

"There was no _quid pro quo_ for my patronage. For him, it was more about taking responsibility for his wife."

"But she slept with you?"

"My usual response is 'no comment' because it's «некультурный» (_nekulturny_) to talk about it."

"It's what?"

"A Russian word meaning 'uncultured', best translated as 'rude' or 'uncouth' in this context."

"I'm going to take that as a 'yes' because if the answer was 'no', you'd have said so."

"Actually, not. With the exception of protecting my married female friends, I would neither confirm nor deny for anyone."

"You're very…interesting."

I chuckled, "It's OK to say 'strange'; I'm called 'strange' all the time!"

"I bet!"

"So, the question before you is, do you want to travel through another dimension; a dimension not only of sight and sound but of mind; a journey into a wondrous land whose boundaries are that of imagination? Do you want to unlock the door beyond which is another dimension — a dimension of mind, a land of both shadow and substance, of things and ideas? Travel a route to a land of the different, the bizarre, the unexplainable, a wonderous dimension where the limits are only those of mind itself?"

"Why do I feel as if I should know that?"

"It's an amalgam of several different _Twilight Zone_ intros. It aired from 1958 through 1964. I was one when it ended, and your parents were probably toddlers or perhaps in grade school, if you're eighteen or nineteen."

"Nineteen in two weeks. Now you have me even more intrigued."

"Then, to quote Morpheus, "_'This is your last chance. After this, there is no turning back. You take the blue pill — the story ends, you wake up in your bed and believe whatever you want to believe. You take the red pill — you stay in Wonderland, and I show you how deep the rabbit hole goes.'_"

"Don't you mean I take the red pill and wake up in YOUR bed?" she asked with an arched eyebrow.

"As I said earlier, the result is often, but not always, sex. I will also modify Morpheus' statement such that you may take some time to think about it and call me when you decide what to do."

"That's probably best. A few days?"

"I don't have a timeline, and there's no expiration date on the offer of friendship or more. There is one important thing — my wife, the trauma surgeon, requires any new partner to have a recent clean STI test, with no exceptions. To be sacrilegious, she'd insist the Virgin Mary have an STI test."

Shaye laughed, "Point taken, and I totally get it. But Mary would never have sex, so, pointless!"

I chuckled, "True, though there was this nun…"

"I can't tell if you're joking or not!"

"I am."

But only because Michelle had become a novice _after_ we'd made love, and we didn't have sex after she became a nun until after she was released by Mother Christophora.

"Thanks for the hot chocolate," Shaye said. "I promise I'll call before the end of the week."

"Take as much time as you need to think about it," I said. "But I would ask you to do one thing either way."

"What's that?"

"Let Deanna know I'd like to sit down for coffee with her patron, that I understand if it needs to be completely private, and that I won't be offended if he declines."

"I'll let her know."

We finished our drinks and left Caribou together. She headed for the L in the Loop, and I headed for the parking lot on Halsted, where my BMW waited to take me home.

————— {BR}
🎤 Jesse {br}

"You def earned your reward!" Simone declared after our third round. "If you want it!"

"As if any sane guy would turn that down?! If you prefer, we can go to the shower so I can rinse off."

"Right, because you haven't French kissed me after putting your tongue in my cooch! Like this is any different?"

"Did that bother you?"

"The first time, I kind of freaked out a bit, but you had made me feel so good I just went for it. I'm used to it now, and besides, if _that_ is the only price for your tongue on my button, it's worth it!"

I chuckled, "Girls do seem to like that."

"I had NO idea! I mean, OK, sure, I knew I could bring myself off by diddling my button, but your mouth is like a whole new level! You won't be upset if I say your tongue makes me feel better than screwing?"

"Why would I? Lots of girls get off easier with my mouth than from screwing, though I've learned what to do to alleviate that in most cases."

"Grinding against me, right?"

"That's a big part of it."

"Turn on your back!"

I was happy to oblige and propped myself on my elbows to watch Simone give her first-ever blowjob. With some guidance and experimentation, she quickly got the hang of it, and I watched as she bobbed up and down, taking me about halfway into her mouth each time and sliding her tongue around my glans. After a few minutes, she began stroking me as well, and perhaps five minutes later, I groaned and shot off in her mouth. Simone didn't stop bobbing and swirling her tongue, and I felt her swallow after the last spurt. She bobbed once more, released me, then moved up and gave me a savage French kiss, shoving her tongue into my mouth.

"Turnabout is fair play!" she smirked when we broke the kiss a minute later.

"I've had girls do that without swallowing," I chuckled.

"NO WAY!" she gasped; "SERIOUSLY?! And you were OK with it?"

"I stuck my tongue in you after we screwed, so you tell me!"

"Uh, oops, yeah!"

"One piece of advice? If you're with a guy for the first time, make sure he's OK with it before you do that, _especially_ if you don't swallow."

"You're saying it's OK to not swallow and kiss you?"

"If you want."

"Lie back again!" she exclaimed.

I laughed and was the happy recipient of her second-ever blowjob, after which she kissed me without swallowing, holding the kiss for a long time.

"Shower?" I suggested. "You said you needed to be home by 5:30pm."

"Yes! Next Monday?"

"Next Monday!"

————— {BR}
🎤 Birgit {br}

"Can I ask you a question?" Zahra asked when we finished our homework.

"Sure."

"Privately? Zaida will wait for me."

I said 'goodbye' to Fangsu, Hannah, Naomi, and Leslie, then, because nobody was in the Indian room, Zahra and I went there.

"What's up?" I asked.

"My dad is being difficult," she said. "He's going to ask Jesse to speak to the imam at our mosque, and I know Jesse will say 'no'. When that happens, I'm afraid my dad will tell your dad that Jesse shouldn't take me to lunch and stuff."

Well, I thought, if her dad knew about 'and stuff', she'd never be allowed out of the house without an armed escort!

"I'm not sure there's anything I can do," I said.

"Cover for me? If I hang out with Jesse on Wednesday afternoon instead of studying?"

"If you walk here with me, then go out the door to the yard and walk to the coach house, then leave by our front door, nobody will know. What if someone comes looking for you?"

"Wednesdays, my mom visits grandmother and is never home before 5:00pm, so nobody would check. My dad doesn't get home from work until around 5:45pm. And Zaida will walk home with me as we do the other days."

"I don't have a problem with any of that, but you do have to consider what would happen if you were caught."

"I know, but I really like Jesse. A lot!"

She and dozens of other girls did, but she had a severe impediment. Well, beyond not being a blonde Russian girl who I was positive would be the one who would convince Jesse to commit.

"The religious differences are a big problem," I observed.

"I know, but I can't help how I feel."

"I totally get that, and so long as you're going in with your eyes open, then it's not really my business."

"I don't close my eyes because I like to see him!" Zahra exclaimed.

I laughed, "TMI!"

"Oh, sorry! I guess that is weird about your brother."

"Everything about my brothers is weird! All of them!"

Zahra laughed, "You're so funny, Birgit! Anyway, I need to go so we're not late. Thanks a bunch!"

"You're welcome!"

We left the Indian room, I walked Zahra and Zaida to the door, and once they had left, I went to the kitchen to help Yuriko with dinner.

————— {BR}
[Aurora, Illinois] {br}
🎤 Matthew {br}

"Are you doing OK, Matthew?" Mom asked at dinner.

"Not really."

"Don't blame yourself, please."

"I try not to, but I wonder if I could have done something."

"Break up with Chelsea?" Eduardo asked.

"No way! Of course not!"

"That is what Maggie wanted, right?" he asked.

"Yes," I sighed.

"Eduardo is making a good point," Mom said. "And unless you want to have an arrangement like your dad's, which I don't think Chelsea would accept, there wasn't anything more you could do."

"I have trouble keeping my relationship with Chelsea from going off the rails," I said. "I can't even imagine two or three! Or five!"

"Zero!" Michael declared, causing Mom, Eduardo, and me to laugh.

"Andi has you sized up for a boyfriend," I said. "You may as well give up and give in!"

"Is that what you did?" Mom asked with a sly smile.

"You know it is! I was ready to run away when I was five! But seriously, I don't think Maggie would have accepted that. And if she did, I'd be suspicious that it was really about stealing me from Chelsea."

"Your dad had a situation like that," Mom said. "You can ask him if you're interested."

"Not really," I replied. "I just want Maggie to be found safe."

"We all do," Mom said. "We all do."

————— {BR}

_January 8, 2003, Chicago, Illinois_

🎤 Steve {br}

"Steve, I have an investigator from the DeKalb County Sheriff's office on the line for you," Lucas said when he called me on Wednesday afternoon.

My blood chilled because Nadia was from DeKalb.

"Did he say what he wanted?"

"No. He asked for 'Steve'."

"Give me three minutes, then put him through to Liz's office, please."

"Will do."

I replaced the receiver and went to Liz's office through the «yōshitsu» room. I quickly explained the situation, and Liz simply shook her head. The phone rang a few seconds later.

"This is Steve Adams," I said. "You're on speaker with me and my corporate council, Liz Crane."

"Good afternoon, Mr. Adams. This is Deputy Randolph with the DeKalb Sheriff's Department. Is your internet handle 'NIKASteve'?"

Liz nodded, so I answered.

"Yes, it is."

"Do you know a young woman named Nadia Granger?"

Liz nodded.

"I know a young woman named Nadia, but I don't know her last name. If her internet handle is DarkDreams82, then yes, I know her."

"When was the last time you spoke with her?"

Liz nodded.

"Online, I'm fairly certain it was January 2nd. She was at my house for about forty minutes the next day. May I ask what's going on?"

"We have a missing person report for her. Can you account for your whereabouts since the 2nd?"

Liz nodded but used a hand signal to indicate a limited answer.

"I can, but on advice of my counsel, I'll only do so in writing."

"I understand your attorney's point, but if I can rule you out, it would make my job easier."

Liz signaled to me that she needed to talk.

"One moment, please," I said. "I'm going to put you on hold."

I pressed the correct buttons so he would hear music, not my conversation with Liz.

"Can you actually account for every minute?"

"Yes. On the 2nd, I was home, and I have my entire family as witnesses, along with a friend who was visiting. On Friday, I had an early meeting at 550, and drove straight from home after my usual morning run with Suzanne and Birgit and breakfast with the family. I worked all day. Nadia came to the house, and when she left, I called a cab, which I paid for and which took her to Union Station. I didn't see her after that.

"The next day, I walked Jess to work and saw two doctors and a nurse I know, then ran with Birgit and Suzanne, had breakfast with the men, went to karate twice, spent some time with a friend from California, drove them to the Gold Coast, then spent the evening with the family. On Sunday, I spent the morning with the family, then was at the Hawks game all afternoon. Monday and yesterday, I did my usual morning routine, worked, and went to karate. The only time I wasn't with someone else was in my car driving back and forth to work, plus the return trip from the Gold Coast."

"OK," Liz said. "That sounds basically ironclad. What you don't want to do is change your story. Give a concise synopsis of where you were, and say there are multiple witnesses."

"OK," I said and activated the speaker phone.

"Sorry to keep you waiting," I said. "My attorney's advice is to say that I was at home, at the karate dojo where I teach, at work, at Bucktown Bistro, at UofC hospital, and that I have multiple witnesses who can verify I was in those places. At work, we have electronic logs. Two FBI agents can confirm I was in the office on Thursday."

"FBI agents? May I ask?"

Liz nodded but indicated a minimal answer.

"They were asking about a union guy they suspect is mobbed up. He's been a liaison for computer support contracts we've had with the unions for two decades. I couldn't tell them much."

"OK. You haven't left the city since the last time you saw Miss Granger?"

"Correct."

"Did you and Miss Granger engage in sexual relations?"

"No."

"In your messages with her, you discussed a pair of fantasies. One was something to do with babysitting, but the other was never stated."

I looked at Liz, who shrugged, then nodded.

"The babysitter fantasy was what you can imagine — the teenage babysitter who seduces the dad when he drives her home. The other one was a bondage fantasy. In the end, when she explained it to me, I declined to participate, and that's when I put her in a cab for Union Station."

"That was on the 3rd?"

"Yes. Just before 8:00pm."

"What cab company? I want to ask where she was actually dropped off."

"May I ask when she disappeared?"

"Sometime between when you say she left your house and 9:00am the next morning when she didn't show up for breakfast with her parents. What cab company?"

"American Taxi," I replied. "The pickup address was 4937 South Woodlawn Avenue. I called them from my private number — 709-555-2425. That should show on their log sheet."

"Thank you, Mr. Adams. That is very helpful. If I have further questions, is it OK to call you directly?"

I looked to Liz, who, after a few seconds, nodded.

"Yes."

"Thank you. I appreciate the information."

"You're welcome."

I pressed the button to disconnect the call.

"You let me answer more than I expected," I observed.

"I realize I'm not Melanie Spencer, but I felt it was better for you to answer than raise suspicion. I was right, and you didn't actually give him anything that could hurt you. You were just cagey enough while sounding forthcoming. Giving him the cab company was a big win, by the way. They'll confirm the pickup and the drop-off, which will bolster your alibi, as it were. May I make an observation?"

"Yes."

"Don't EVER do that again. Seriously. Do NOT meet someone online like that and invite them to your house. You are just asking for trouble!"

"Actually, she's a friend of a friend, not a random contact. Someone sent her my way."

"That's a bit different but still risky. I do have to ask…the fantasy?"

"To be tied spread-eagled to the bed to lose her virginity and be fucked senseless for a few hours after that."

"You're obviously not joking."

"I'm not. It was too close to a rape fantasy for my taste; that's a line I simply cannot cross."

"If you'd had sex with her, your DNA would be there, and no alibi in the world would save you. They'd insist everyone was lying to protect you, given your obvious influence."

"True. Actually, I should call the investigator back because he absolutely should speak to Danielle, the friend. He may or may not know about her, and phone records can take a few days."

"Go ahead. That'll put an even more positive spin on your alibi."

I used the feature on the phone to dial the displayed number from the previous call. While it was ringing, I pulled up the directory on my mobile phone.

"Randolph, Investigations."

"Deputy, this is Steve Adams. I have the name of someone who might be helpful, and that's Nadia's friend who introduced us."

"Do you have a number as well?"

"Yes, and her internet handle. Her name is Danielle Marlowe, her internet handle is SongOfSolomon7, and her home number is 708-555-8744. She works at Starbucks in Hyde Park at 55th and Woodlawn, but I don't have that number handy."

"Thank you, Mr. Adams. I appreciate your coöperation."

"You're welcome, Deputy."

I pressed the button to disconnect the call.

"I'm going to raise an issue that I know will incense you, but you need to consider taking your propranolol again. You're making risky decisions."

"I'll discuss it with Jess," I said.

"Good. You know I only have your best interest at heart. When are you going to Mayo?"

"The second week in February. I'll fly up on Sunday the 9th and fly home the morning of the 12th. Mary asked for two full days."

"They have you meet with a behavioral psychologist, right?"

"Clara Brown," I replied.

"Tell her about this and see what she says."

"Yes, Mom!" I replied with a grin.

"Not until July! And not YOUR mom!"

"Thank Loki!" I declared with a grin. "Thanks for your help."

"It appears I can't leave you unmonitored for more than about a day without you finding some novel way to get into trouble!"

"Life is never not exciting when I'm around!" I grinned.

"Go back to your office, you dope!"

"Penny and I are going to have words!"

"So long as it's only words, Steve."

"Of all the stupid things I could do, that's the _last_ one."

"When you're thinking straight, I agree. When you aren't? Different story altogether."

————— {BR}
🎤 Jesse {br}

"My dad is absolutely going to ask you to speak to the imam when we have lunch on Saturday," Zahra said when she came into the coach house.

"If it will help, I'm happy to talk to Imam Iqbal, but you know what the result will be."

"I don't think anything short of you saying «aš-šahādatu» (_Shahadah_) will suffice."

"It does me no harm to listen politely to the imam, but you're probably right. Is today the last day we can be together?"

"No! I arranged with Birit to cover for me, and I'll walk home with Zaida. She won't say anything, either. I'll be home before my dad, and my mom will see Zaida, so she won't be suspicious."

"So long as you're sure!"

"I am! Should we go upstairs so I can take off my scarf?"

"Yes!"

I took her hand and led her up the stairs.

————— {BR}
[Oswego, Illinois]
🎤 Matthew {br}

The house phone rang just before 7:00pm on Wednesday. I dreaded every time it or my mobile phone had run since my talk with the detective. Mom and Eduardo were out, so I went to the kitchen to answer it,

"Matt Adams."

"Matt, it's Mary Jones. They found Maggie! She's safe!"

"Awesome! Where?"

"Urbana," Maggie said. "The State Police found her. She's at the hospital now, having a medical check. Joe and I are leaving now to get her. They said she was asking for you. Would your mom allow you to go with us?"

"You know the problem, right?" I asked.

"Yes," Mary said. "Tara told us. I know you and Chelsea are permanent, but I was hoping you could at least talk to Maggie."

"I think I'd have to have Chelsea with me to do that," I said. "And she's in the city."

Mrs. Jones was quiet for a moment, "I'll just tell Maggie we couldn't reach you, OK?"

"Yes. I'll arrange for Chelsea to come here tomorrow, and we can see Maggie after drama practice, OK?"

"Yes. She's not going to school before Monday."

"I'm thrilled they found her. Do you know what happened?"

"No. We'll call you tomorrow if there are any problems."

"Thanks. I'm happy she's safe."

"Me, too!"

We said 'goodbye', and I immediately called Chelsea, who answered the phone on the second ring.

"They found Maggie," I said.

"Is she OK?"

"Her mom said she is, but she's being checked at a hospital in Urbana, which is where they found her. Mrs. Jones said Maggie asked for me and wanted me to go along, but I thought that was a bad idea. I told Mrs. Jones I'd talk with Maggie, but you had to be there."

"Why?" Chelsea asked. "I trust you."

"I know, but I don't want Maggie to get the wrong idea. Tara told Mrs. Jones what was bugging Maggie. I want you to come out to the house after your morning class tomorrow so we can talk to Maggie together. Mom can take you into the city on Friday."

"OK. I'll see you tomorrow, then. I love you!"

"I love you, too!"

————— {BR}
[Chicago, Illinois]
🎤 Steve {br}

I wasn't surprised when Danielle was waiting at the house when my wives, daughters, and I returned from karate.

"What happened?" Danielle asked. "They said Nadia got in a cab around 8:00pm on Friday and was dropped off in Lincoln Park."

"Not Union Station?" I asked.

"No."

"She was here, obviously; we discussed her fantasy; she detected my heart wasn't into her darkest fantasy and decided to leave. I paid the cabbie about double what it would cost to get to Union Station, and she left. The next thing I heard was a call from the DeKalb County Sheriff. I told them what I knew; they obviously checked on the cab, then called you. Any idea why she wouldn't go to Union Station?"

"No. I have no clue what she would be doing in Lincoln Park. The Deputy wouldn't tell me where in Lincoln Park they dropped her off. "

"Do you know if she was chatting online with anyone else?"

"No clue."

"Boyfriends?"

"She was seeing a guy, but I think they broke up last August. I told the Deputy, but I only knew the guy's first name. He lived in DeKalb, though, not in the city. Do you have any ideas?"

"I know some private investigators, but if I were to hire them, that might make the cops suspicious. Have you talked to her parents?"

"No. I wanted to talk to you first to find out what happened. I was afraid she'd freaked out afterwards, but it sounds like nothing happened."

"Not a thing," I replied. "She chose to leave, and, as I said, I called her a cab. I actually offered to drive her, but she turned me down. I think at this point, we just wait for the police to do their thing."

"I'm going to call her parents, plus some mutual friends. See you Sunday for Philosophy Club?"

"Absolutely!"

We hugged, I walked her to the door, then joined my wives in the Indian room.

"The cops told Danielle that the cab dropped Nadia in Lincoln Park, not at Union Station," I said. "Other than that, Danielle didn't have any new information."

"Matthew called while you were talking to Danielle," Kara said. "They found Maggie in Urbana, and she seems to be OK."

"That's good. Jess, Liz got on my case about the situation and suggested my risk analysis is off kilter."

"Because of Nadia?"

"Yes. She said that after we talked to the investigator. And she suggested I start taking the propranolol. I disagree with her but promised to mention it to you to mollify Liz."

"I don't see it," Jessica said. "Nadia was a referral, and you acted exactly as I would have expected, and the three of us agree you made the right decision. And sure, the investigator called you, but that makes perfect sense given the circumstances. She obviously didn't think you were a suspect because she let you talk to them. Kara? Suzanne?'

"If you made any risky decision, it was with Emma," Kara said. "But all three of us were OK with it, especially after we spoke to her. And it's not like you acted impetuously."

"I concur," Suzanne said. "You've worked out a new set of guidelines, and we all agree. So, unless Mary Whittaker thinks there's a problem, I wouldn't take the propranolol."

"I agree, Tiger. If you want to call Mary to make Liz happy, go ahead, but I know you're going to Mayo in about four weeks. And I honestly don't think you're taking undue risks."

"If you think my judgment is suspect, I want you to tell me, please."

"We will," all three of my wives agreed.

"Did you hear from Miss Menu?" Kara asked with a smirk.

"No. I expect her to call at some point."

Just then, my phone rang, and I pulled it out of my pocket and laughed.

"Speak of the leprechaun!" I chuckled.

"Steve Adams," I said, answering the phone.

"Shaye. Any chance we could meet for coffee tomorrow at 4:30pm at Caribou?"

"Absolutely. I'll see you there."

We said 'goodbye', and I closed the phone.

"Coffee at Caribou tomorrow," I said.

"What time is Jesse's game on Saturday?" Suzanne asked.

"They have the first ice time, so 8:00am. I should be home in time for karate. Would my wives like to go to bed?"

"Yes!" all three of them exclaimed happily.