Chapter Fifteen
I raced through the drive-thru of the chain burger joint that promised I could have whatever I wanted, My way, Any time of day. What I wanted was a half-dozen plain hamburgers. “No. No fries. No. Nothing to drink. Right. Nothing on them. Plain.” The kid on the other end of the intercom sounded disappointed. He might as well get used to it. It was a long life. I collected my burgers and turned the Jag for the north shore.
I pulled onto Navy Pier, parked, grabbed my burgers, shanghaied Olive from his ticket booth with a plea for help (he found a replacement), and headed around the Big Top and into the performers' dormitory on the far east end of the Pier. Pinned waist-high (my waist) on Alfonso's dorm room door was a note reading: What the Hell? See Me! It wasn't signed. It
