Palms sweating, Jessica gripped the edge of the vinyl seat in the back of an unmarked black Interceptor. The seat was cold against her bare thighs, and she longed for jeans instead of the skimpy dress from the poker game the night before. Rigid, she sat in silence and watched buildings and cars fly by outside the tinted windows. She didn’t know if she was being questioned for breaking into Schmutzig’s office, or worse.
The Chicago Police Headquarters on Michigan Avenue was housed in a concrete building with four floors of rectangular windows. From the back parking lot, the L-shaped building with small blocky windows looked like a prison. A uniformed officer led her through the parking lot to the back door.
Inside the air was chilly, and she was glad Nick had insisted she wear his wool ja
