1 Chapter 1
1
In public relations, there was no such thing as a nine-to-five day. Press releases always had to get out, people had to be prepped for evening functions, and off the record calls needed to be made to reporters, officials, and anybody else who might have an interest in Aurora’s city government. At five o’clock, Jarrett Kessel wasn’t even considering leaving his desk. He still had a solid three hours of work ahead of him.
On that particular Tuesday, with the autumn sun starting to crest orange and red toward the horizon, he wished for once he could slip away and have a night to himself. Especially after his cell phone rang.
“Let me guess. You’re tied to your desk.”
Hearing the voice of Detective Venice McCurry brought a reluctant smile to Jarrett’s face. It had been too long since they’d had a chance to hang out. Venice was perfect company, whether he needed someone to accompany him to an official function or wanted to go clubbing in the city. No expectations from either of them for anything sexual, and a fun friend to kill time with if the night turned out to be a dud.
“Being tied to it would be an improvement.” He leaned back in his chair and stretched, grimacing when his neck cracked. “What’s up? No, wait, let me guess. You’ve won the lottery and you’re flying both of us to Rio for a month-long party to celebrate.”
“I wish. You’d enjoy that a lot more than what I’m about to tell you.”
“Uh oh. You make it sound dire.”
“Depends on how you feel about interrogations.”
“Oh, please. When was the last time a reporter stumped me?”
“I’m not talking about reporters. I’m talking Feds. On their way to Aurora right now to question you.”
Jarrett straightened with a painful snap, his hand going straight for his mouse. He clicked his email open with a frown, scanning it quickly for any hint on what this could be about. Federal involvement in local government only meant one thing. Corruption charges. During his tenure, they’d only dealt with one previous investigation, and that had been three years ago, during a different administration. He’d never gotten near the Feds, then. The entire matter had been dealt with by senior PR people. Apparently, he’d gained enough status to merit inclusion this time.
“Who’s this about?” he asked, his eyes never leaving his screen. “Give me a hint here. You wouldn’t have called to give me a heads-up if you didn’t want me prepared.”
“I know. But it’s not about anybody else in the office. They want to talk to you.”
He froze. His mind raced, but he couldn’t for the life of him figure out what made him so important. “About what?”
“Relax, okay? They’re just coming by because they want to ask you a few questions about a case they’re working here in Chicago.”
“What kind of a case?”
“A murder investigation.”
“What?” His raised voice drew attention from Silas, two cubicles down, and Jarrett turned his back on him, lowering both his head and his voice to keep the conversation more private. “What’s going on, Ven? Who got killed?”
“Look…” She had switched to the placating tone he’d heard her use on more than interested woman she wasn’t attracted to, the one that said Please don’t make this a bigger deal than it is. “We got pulled in as backup, to take in some computer hacker the Feds have been after for months. Only when we got there, the kid’s dead. Been dead for a couple days, looks like.”
“I haven’t been in the city in over a week.”
“Will you stop getting defensive, please? I’m trying to explain here.”
His cheeks felt hot. “Sorry,” he mumbled. “Just tell me I’m not a murder suspect.”
“You’re not a murder suspect,” she repeated. “Unless you own the Lockeford Files.”
“The what?”
“It’s a comic strip. Online—www.lockefordfiles.com. They found a whole shitload of them printed up and saved on the guy’s hard drive.”
“Never heard of it.”
“Well, I think whoever does own it has heard of you. Or at least seen you, Jarrett. Because his superhero main character could be your younger brother. Dykstra saw it before I did, and the next thing I know, he’s blurting out, ‘Hey, that looks like your boyfriend, McCurry.’“ She sounded disgusted. “I wanted to pound on him right there. Asshole never thinks before he opens his big mouth.”
Jarrett forgot about sharing her sniping about her narrow-minded partner and turned back to his laptop. “What was that address again?” He typed it in as she repeated it. When the front page loaded, his eyes widened. “Damn.”
Venice hadn’t been kidding. Under the title banner was a series of sketches of a caped man in a variety of action poses. He was tall and muscular, with heavy brows and thick, wavy hair that highlighted the harsh sculpture of his face. A long, slightly hooked nose. The wide mouth with the too skinny upper lip. The strong chin that made his face look even longer than it was. The entire thing was done in black and white, except for one specific detail. The man’s eyes were sage green, colored in on every sketch.
