Scenario:1
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Chapter One
Prologue
I’m not who you think I am, but we have a common enemy. Meet me at the docks at midnight.
I read the text message again, and the meaning of the words became no less cryptic. The sender was Mark, my mysterious informant and occasional lover, and for all I knew, he might as well have been a figment of my imagination.
We’d known each other for a little over three months, and still, I had no idea who he was or why he was helping me. The few times we’d met had all been in secret, and he took great pains to remain concealed. The details of his life were a well-guarded secret, and the only thing I knew for certain was that he had a profound dislike for Detective David Galloway.
And why not? Galloway was a corrupt cop, responsible for the deaths of countless men and women. The worst part was that everyone knew it, but nobody dared say it aloud. To do so would be career suicide and could even be fatal if the wrong people heard it.
Galloway was untouchable. A well-funded lawyer had made sure of that when Sarah’s father had tried to expose him for what he really was.
I shivered, remembering the touch of Mark’s lips on my skin. He’d kissed me goodbye this morning before disappearing without a trace, leaving only a note behind with his phone number scrawled across the bottom.
I kept his messages on a separate phone, which shut down automatically every night at midnight and couldn’t be turned back on until six in the morning. I’d found the phone abandoned in an alleyway less than a block from my apartment and had very carefully wiped it clean of fingerprints before buying a new SIM card for it.
The phone itself was nothing special, an old Samsung model that had probably been one of the first phones with texting capabilities. But it served its purpose well, allowing me to keep in contact with Mark while protecting my identity at the same time.
But that was all about to change. I could feel it.
I’d always known that our little game couldn’t last forever. Eventually, Galloway would find out about us and would do everything in his power to silence me. At best, I would be fired from the police force; at worst, I could end up dead in a shallow grave. Or worse.
I shuddered at the thought but pushed it aside. Fear wouldn’t get me anywhere. And besides, what good would it do to worry about what might happen in the future when I had no control over it?
There was a soft knock on the door, and I jumped to my feet, expecting to find Mark standing there. But when I opened the door, he wasn’t there. In fact, there was nobody there at all.
I frowned and looked around. We were on the fourteenth floor of a high-rise building in downtown Chicago, and there was no way anyone could have gotten away without me noticing it.
I stepped out into the hallway and looked both ways but saw nothing out of the ordinary. The door to my left led to the stairwell; to my right was another apartment that had been abandoned years ago.
A shiver ran down my spine as I stepped back into the apartment and closed the door behind me. Whoever had knocked might still be out there, watching me.
But that thought was almost as ridiculous as thinking that Mark might be watching me right now. As far as I knew, Mark didn’t even know where I lived.
But he knew more about me than anyone else did. He knew things even my family didn’t know.
I shook my head and turned my attention to the matter at hand. The note Mark had left me with this morning promised me a breakthrough in a high-profile murder case, and I intended to find out what it was.
I’d been working on the case for over a year now. It was the first murder I’d been assigned to work on as a detective, and I’d been thrilled by the opportunity to prove myself. At least, that’s what I’d told myself at the time.
Now, though, I was beginning to realize that I might have bitten off more than I could chew. The case was complex, with multiple suspects and even more motives. Not a week went by without a new piece of evidence surfacing, and all too often, it pointed in a direction that had nothing to do with the crime at all.
But not this time. This time, Mark had promised me something solid, something I could use to put an end to the madness once and for all.
I sat down at my desk and picked up a folder, flipping it open and scanning through the contents as I waited for my computer to boot up.
The victim was one Jason Daniels, a thirty-five-year-old investment banker who’d been found shot to death in his own home.
A quick check of the records showed that he’d been married for ten years and had two young children. His wife, Emily, had been out of town on a business trip at the time of his death, and she’d returned home to find him lying in a pool of his own blood.