Exit Strategy

“You mean stick to business. No socializing, no chatting, no jogging together…”

“Right.”

I shook my head. “You said he was clean, and I trust you.” I glanced at him. “You did say that, didn’t you?”

A hesitation, then a soft exhale. “Yeah.”

We’d agreed to meet Felix and Qui

“Got you a hot dog,” Qui

Beside me, Jack made a noise, half grunt, half sigh.

“Don’t glower, Jack,” Qui

I took mine with thanks. Jack just looked at the tray.

Felix walked up behind Qui

“One could argue that all hot dogs are poisonous,” I said, as we fell into step and headed for the bleachers. “If you eat enough, they have to be at least as lethal as arsenic.”

“Shhh,” Qui

“Someone’s in a good mood,” Jack said.

“Someone’s in a fucking fantastic mood. We are finally going to nail this bastard.”

Qui

When I smiled back, Qui

“You think he’ll show?” I said, as we settled into the bleacher seats.

“I sure hope so, because if he does, he’s toast.” His eyes gleamed. “This bastard has taken his last victim. We’re bringing him down and I ca

“Got that impression,” Jack said.

Qui

Felix pitched his trash into the distant can with perfect aim. “I know you’re hoping to be the one to snap on the cuffs, Qui

“That’s fine. Sure, I’d love to take him down myself, but if it’s the Feds or the locals, good enough.”

“He’ll be caught,” I said. “And that’s all that matters.”

As he nodded, our eyes met.

“Great idea,” Jack said. “But a plan would help.”

“Already got one.” Qui

I smiled and plucked the tickets from his hand. “So what are these? Forgeries?”

“Uh-uh. With tonight’s security, it’s the real deal or none at all. The theater’s only about two-thirds full, so I nabbed these easily enough.” He glanced around me. “We can get more for you guys if you want.”

“Really?” Felix said. “You see, Jack, we aren’t invisible over here after all.”

“Hey, I included you two. You can come in if you want, but I figured two in and two out would be better. It makes sense for Dee to be one of the two going in and, well, if she’s going to have a date, I’m the natural choice.”

Felix arched a brow. “You are?”

“You know, the age thing,” Qui

“Jack and I will pretend we didn’t hear that.”

“You’re forgetting something,” Jack said. “Partners. Dee -”

“-is your partner,” Qui

“She’s worked with me. Not does work. Has worked.”

I folded my napkin and tucked it into my empty hotdog box. “Jack’s right. I know his style and with something this big, I need a familiar partner. I do agree two of us should go in, so if Jack would rather not, then I guess you and Felix-”

“Nah,” Jack said. “Two guys? People still notice.”

“A man and a woman would be less conspicuous, particularly if we pick up fake wedding rings. As for the age difference, at these events, it’s pretty much a given. Older guys, second wives-” I caught Jack’s look. “Not that you’re older. Well, older than me, but-” I checked my watch. “We’d better move if we’re going to do this. I’ll need a dress.”

“Nice save,” Felix said. “And, yes, you will need a gown. This opera house evidently has a black-tie dress code for these opening weeks. Jack will require a tuxedo.”

Qui

Qui

“I find women’s wear an excellent disguise,” Felix said. “Particularly evening dresses.”

Qui

“I have had lady friends in Chicago, Qui

“Oh.”

Felix shook his head. “While poor Qui

We finished our hot dogs, and left.

THIRTY-THREE

Jack checked us into a motel on the outskirts of Chicago. Felix and Qui

The opera curtain was ninety minutes away, and the doors would open in forty-five. I was ready to go, dress on and hair fixed in the best updo I could manage with bobby pins and a hand mirror. Jack had showered and shaved, but still had to throw on his tux, so I left him to do that and went outside to find Qui

It was dark already, and the motel poorly lit, but I located him on the other side of the lot, leaning against the fence, watching the highway traffic whiz past. He’d changed into black jeans and a black hooded sweatshirt-dark enough for recon work outside the theater, but common enough street wear not to attract attention. He’d also switched to dark hair, and from his profile I could see that he’d added a beard and mustache. Guess he wanted a little more of a disguise in case he bumped into someone from the FBI task force. Further proof that I was right about him being a Fed. FBI or DEA was my guess. A field agent-he didn’t strike me as a desk jockey-but he obviously still had enough clout to get all the info we needed without raising eyebrows. And the clout to get the time off.

As my heels clicked across the asphalt, Qui

I laughed. “Don’t tell me I look that different.”

“No, just…wow.”

I blushed.

“You look good as a redhead,” he said. “That must be closer to your natural-I mean, it suits you.”