I peered at the man next to me. “Maddie, I need to ask you a question. Can you step into the bedroom so Ruby can’t hear?”
“Yes,” she said softly. “Give me a second.”
“What?” Sparrow asked.
“Your mother mentioned Millstone’s wife. I know it was a long time ago. I just want to ask her—”
“I’m here,” her voice returned to the phone.
“Can you tell me anything you remember about Dr. Miller’s office?”
“Patrick…I’m not…”
I put my phone on speaker. “The people, the building, were there others, maybe a medical staff?”
“Um, it was downtown Chicago. I don’t know exactly where. Kristine drove us downtown. We shopped on the Magnificent Mile and ate lunch, then we walked to the building. I remember we rode an elevator.”
“That hardly narrows it down,” Sparrow whispered.
Maddie went on, “There was a waiting room where a woman had me fill out forms. Then she took me in the back into a hallway to an exam room. Kristine came with me. After it happened, I relived it so many times that I’ll never forget the woman. Her name was Wendy. She did an exam and declared that I was pregnant.”
My stare met Sparrow’s. “Maddie, please repeat the woman’s name.”
“Wendy. I don’t think I ever heard her last name. She knew Kristine though.”
“Dr. Miller?” I asked.
“He was old. At least, to an eighteen-year-old girl he seemed old. He didn’t say much. I remembered he wasn’t dressed like I thought a doctor should be. There was no lab coat or stethoscope. He wore expensive clothes and shoes. For some reason, I remembered that when he entered the room, his shoes were wet as if he’d walked in the snow and it had melted. That stuck out because I remembered wondering where had he been if that was his office.” She let out a long sigh. “I’d rather not think about it anymore.”
“That is more than enough,” I said, turning off the speaker. “No more. What you said helps and for the record, I think you’re amazing. I’ll let you know when we’re on our way home.”
“Patrick…” She paused.
“What?”
“Stay safe. Don’t do anything that would put you in danger. We’ve waited too long for this. I don’t want revenge. I want us.”
She might not want revenge.
I did.
I wanted it enough for both of us.
It was more than want.
It was a need that could only be quenched with blood.
I wanted every person who hurt her, who was even a little bit responsible for the hell she’d endured, to suffer.
“We’ll both be back as soon as possible,” I assured her.
“And this trip is for Mr. Sparrow, not me or you?”
I looked at Sparrow through my peripheral vision. He’d been the one to call the pilot
Did he want revenge too?
“There are some things I can’t or won’t explain.”
She sighed.
“Maddie, I love you. Don’t doubt that.”
“I hope so. Me too. Oh, there’s something Ruby just saw, but I can tell you later. I like that I’ll see you tonight.”
“What did she see?” I asked.
“There’s a poker tournament in New Orleans beginning this coming Thursday. I’m listed as a confirmed participant.”
“Fuck that,” I said.
Madeline laughed.
The laughter in the midst of this turmoil was light to the dark building within me. The harmonious ringing was perhaps one of the most beautiful sounds I’d ever heard. Without a doubt, it was one that I could listen to every day for the rest of my life.
“I guess that means you think I should be a no-show?”
“I think that one day if you want to show the world what an outstanding poker player Madeline Kelly is, I’ll be there cheering you along. As for stepping into a tournament in a little over a week, you’re right. I think, hell no.”
“Stay safe,” she said. “The past is over. I want to move forward.”
“I’ll let you know when we are on our way home.”
After I disconnected the phone call, I turned to Sparrow. “It makes me sound like a pussy, but I like that.”
“Having someone who really cares that you make it home? Yeah, I agree. It’s nice to know someone is waiting for your return.” His stare met mine. “Wendy is Jerry Millstone’s wife’s name.”
“I don’t need any additional evidence that this is our man, do you?”
Sparrow’s dark eyes narrowed as his head shook. “Our couple. I don’t often exact revenge on women, but I do make exceptions.”
It was my turn to nod.
During the remainder of our way to the airport and through the first half of the flight, Sparrow and I continued to busy ourselves with all things Jerry Millstone. He wasn’t a doctor, not of any variety—PhD or medical. Instead, Jerry Millstone started his career as a stockbroker. Inasmuch as he worked in finance, he became well acquainted with members of the upper echelon of Chicago. His specialty was investment, attainment, and growing the wealth of those already wealthy.
On paper, it appeared as though Millstone made his fortune in the 90s riding the wave of corporate raids—buying companies, raping them of their resources, and leaving the employees to wither away without fulfilling promises made to them by their original employer. He was part of a family practice that worked as one-stop shopping for only the wealthiest of clients. His part was growing wealth. The group also included attorneys, accountants, private investigators, wealth managers, and fixers. The men and women worked together to make their clients’ dreams come true and then erase them from public record.
By not aligning himself with either outfit or any one particular client, Millstone maintained a type of anonymity that allowed him to conduct his side business with whichever outfit or patron was in the market for what he distributed—people.
We were an hour away from our destination when Sparrow closed the screen before him and stood. There was something in his movements that caught my attention. When I looked up, he was staring out one of the rectangular windows, his hand on the wall above.
“We haven’t discussed what we’re planning on doing during this visit,” I said, initiating the conversation.
His dark eyes came my way. “She’s my sister.”
I leaned back against the seat and took in a deep breath. “Maybe someday you can admit that to her.”
“How fucked up is it that the wife of one of my best…” He stopped as one side of his lips moved upward. “…friends...? I know I don’t say that much.”
“You don’t need to.”
“I can’t believe it wasn’t my father who called the hit. It was my fucking mother who tried to have her killed, who succeeded in killing her parents and leaving her homeless. Why haven’t you brought that up since we left her house?”
“Really, Sparrow, what can I say?” I replied. “I’m shocked. I’ve never liked the queen regent, and while the feeling is mutual, it was fucking easier to imagine Allister as the man making the decision.”