FBI Supervisor and Case Agent, Juanita Jones, sat at her desk alone. It was early evening in Chicago, and the lights were coming on in buildings throughout the downtown region. Down at street level, people went out for sushi, drank too much, met with friends, watched plays, ran for miles, and generally enjoyed life in the Midwest capital.
Juanita had no such plans. Her current assignment vexed her. There had to be some sort of evidence of where Claire-Marie Wilcox had gone. She didn't even bother considering murder or k********g. There would have been known enemies, ransom demands, coded messages, but there was nothing. If they just walked away from a world of success, how did they go off the grid so fast?
And then there was the matter of the extraordinary company Mrs. Wilcox
