The icy hand of winter held the city in its grasp. A stiff north wind roared down the canyons of the Loop before exploding into the vastness of Lake Michigan. In the midst of the gale, a rusty Ford Escort rushed northward on Lake Shore Drive. Inside the car, Sarah Riley fiddled with the control knobs trying to coax a little more warmth from the heater. Giving up on the heater, she twisted her lank blonde hair into a ponytail while keeping a nervous lookout through the rearview mirror.
Twenty minutes earlier, Sarah left a small South Side legal office. Anyone one watching would have seen her face flushed with anxiety, a bloody wound beneath her eye.
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At twenty-eight years old, Sarah has been a schoolteacher for six years. Small and slightly built, she is popular with her fifth grade students and coworkers. Non-threatening is the term others use to describe her. Now she is running from... what?
This is Sarah's story. First, I'm her brother Jack Riley, and it's my job to tell it here, just like I told the grand jury. Just because I drive a truck for the city doesn't mean I can't repeat what Sarah told me word for word. I went to Loyola and then spent four years in the crotch, sorry, the Marine Corps. It began two weeks earlier.
Saturday night, sitting at home reading Hemingway's "A Farwell to Arms," Sarah is absorbed in the problems of Henry and Catherine when the phone rings. Cousin Kate, the victim of a stalled car, begs her to come to her rescue. Despite her misgivings about driving out to Naperville on a snowy night, Sarah dutifully dons her coat and heads out into the storm.
With a silent prayer, she starts her old car and heads west on 95th Street to the Tri-State Tollway. Chicago slumbers under a blanket of snow. Entering the north bound ramp, the car slides sharply to the left before the worn tires regain their grip on the icy roadway. The rest of the trip is uneventful as Sarah merges onto the Eisenhower Expressway which a few miles later becomes the Regan Tollway. Exiting the Regan at Winfield Road, Sarah makes a quick right turn into the parking lot of a large shopping center. Spotting the martini bar from which Kate called, she scans the lot for her car. However, she cannot find her cousin's dark blue Mercedes. Easing into a parking space, Sarah picks up her cell phone and calls Kate. The phone rings four times before Kate's cheerful voice recites her voicemail greeting. Three more attempts produce the same result.
Releasing her seatbelt and zipping up her parka, Sarah steps out into the cold night. With her head down, she begins walking toward the bar. Ten feet from the door, a strong hand grips her arm from behind. Wheeling around, Sarah comes face to face with a man in a dark wool coat and black leather gloves. One hand continues to hold her arm tightly. "Are you Sarah?" he asks.
Sarah studies him before answering. He is at least six feet tall and appears to be her age. His black hair blows in the wind and blue eyes stare at her intently. "Yes, I am Sarah," she replies. "May I ask who you are?"
"Listen, I know this is odd, my name is Stan. I'm looking for Kate too. You're her cousin right? Let's go in and talk." he says nodding toward the bar.
Not sure what to do, Sarah allows herself to be led inside. A blast of hot air and noise hits her when Stan opens the door. Maneuvering through the crowd, they find two empty stools at the bar. "Order what you like," Stan says. "I'll be right back."
Not removing her coat, Sarah sits and orders a cup of coffee. The bartender looks at her mildly amused. "This is a martini bar and you want coffee?" he asks.
"Okay, let me have a Cosmopolitan, but light on the booze," Sarah replies. The bartender winks at her and in a few minutes returns with her drink.
"Here you go sweetheart, light on the booze. Anything for your friend?"
"Oh, he's not my friend, he just..." Dragged me in here Sarah thinks. "He'll order something when he gets back."
After the bartender leaves, Sarah scans the room for her cousin. The bar seems occupied by businesspersons staying at one of the many hotels that cling to the Tollway in this part of town. She wonders where Stan has gone.
Twenty minutes and one Cosmo later, she is beginning to doubt if Stan will return. Sarah idly spins the empty glass in her hands. Glancing at her watch, she decides to leave if he does not appear in five minutes. Her unease over Kate's disappearance begins to gnaw at her.
"I've been watching you. I bet you never thought you'd spend the night sitting by yourself." Surprised, Sarah looks up at a thirty-something man with thick glasses. He wears a houndstooth sport coat and a blue shirt open at the collar. His blonde hair has receded past his ears. "Pardon me," she stammers.
"Oh c'mon, a hot babe like you comes in here she doesn't think she'll be buying her own drinks."
"I don't know what you mean?"
"I mean playing hard to get doesn't always work. Listen I know, I've been there. I have more chicks than you can count, but there's always room for one more."
"Listen, you're not very nice, maybe you should go," Sarah replies.
"Geez, listen I'm sorry. You're part of my homework tonight. My name is David."
"Homework, I'm not sure I follow."
David drops into the chair beside Sarah. "You see I went to this seminar on how to meet women. Bought the book too. My homework for this week is to approach ten women in one night and start a conversation. You are number two."
"Oh my. Homework?"
"Yeah. You see the approach is called discordant-harmony. You create attraction by busting a woman's balls. Uh, so to speak."
"Well, David, that's very interesting but I..."
"You know that guy you're here with?"
"I'm not here with him. We're looking for someone."
"Like a pretty redhead?" David asks. "She was with your date earlier. Seem's like your boyfriend is two timing ya."
"He's not my boyfriend. What did the redhead look like?"
"Like I said, pretty, blue eyes, medium height, she was dressed in a business suit. Looked like a lawyer or something. Wouldn't give me the time of day. I'm not counting her as part of my homework, I can tell you that."
"Did you get here name?" Sarah asks.
"The guy called her something. Sounded like cat maybe."
"Could it have been Kate, by any chance?"
"Yeah, I suppose. Like I said, she was cold."
Sarah stares at David speechless for several moments until she sees Stan making his way through the crowd. Stan approaches them, looks at David and says, "Get lost, loser."
David scuttles to his feet and disappears into the crowd. Sarah turns to Stan as he sits down. "Have you found Kate?"
"No, and I am really starting to get pissed, but you know your cousin and her temper. Now it's what," he looks at his watch, "almost eight o'clock and it's snowing like hell outside. Where is that crazy woman? We were supposed to meet for drinks after work."
"Stan, I thought you did meet her."
"Nah, I didn't. Why, what do you know?"
"She just called me to come get her. I drove all the way out from the city. You must know more than I do. Should we call the cops?"
Stan snorts at her suggestion. "And tell'em what? Your cousin's a bitch who got us both out on a crummy night?"
"Please don't call her names," Sarah replies. "What if something is wrong? I can't get her on her cell phone."
"If she's pissed she won't answer. Believe me I know."
"What should we do?"
"I don't know about you Sarah, but I'm going to have one more drink and head home. Traffic's gonna be brutal. Glad I don't have to drive into the city. Unless you want me to get loser boy back for you, I suggest you hit the road." Stan beckons the bartender over and orders vodka straight up.
"Where were you the past twenty minutes?" Sarah asks.
"None of your business."
"Then why did you drag me in here? I thought you wanted to talk."
"Listen Sarah, I dragged you in here, I can drag you back out. Get lost and let me drink. Forget we ever met."
"But..."
Suddenly, Stan whirls and grabs Sarah by the shoulder. He turns his wrist and pain shoots down her arm. Slowly he says, "Get lost and forget you ever met me. You get the message now, or do I need to be blunt?"
Gasping for air, Sarah slides out of her seat and Stan releases his grip. Not looking back, she moves toward the door. In a curve of the bar, she sees David talking to a bored businesswoman with short black hair. For a moment, their eyes lock. Hands shaking, she stumbles out the door and into the night.
The next morning Sarah wakes up with a headache. Reaching for her bedside phone, she dials Kate's home number. No answer. Next, she dials her cell phone, again only the voicemail greeting.
Hit by a wave of vertigo when she climbs out of bed, Sarah steadies herself on the nightstand. Never much of a drinker, she feels the affects of the Cosmopolitan from the night before. Glancing at the clock, she sees it is too late for church. Sarah decides to take a shower and get ready for the day.
When Sarah steps out of the shower, she glances at her cell phone. The display reads "One New Voice Mail." Picking up the phone, she presses and holds down the number one button. Pushing wet hair from her face, she waits for the message to begin. Sarah's heart skips a beat when she hears Kate's voice.
"Hi cuz," Kate says brightly, "sorry about calling you out last night. I got my car started and was able to get going. Talked to Stan this morning, I understand the two of you had a drink together. Should I be jealous? Give me a call when you get a sec."
Sarah tosses her phone on the bed and sits down. Holding her head in her hands, she tries to put together a picture of recent events. Nothing makes sense. Grabbing her phone, Sarah reconnects to voice mail. This time she notes the time of the call, fifteen minutes ago. Next, she checks the phone's list of received calls. Kate placed her call from the 630 area code in suburban DuPage County. Naperville Kate thinks.
Taking her phone into the spare bedroom she uses for an office, Sarah sits at her computer and does a reverse lookup on the number. Several seconds later, she discoveres the phone number belongs to Stanley Haas. Could this be the Stan she met last night? Curious, Sarah does a Google search. The first search returns too many results so she narrows hear scope to Stanley Haas Chicago. This returns a more manageable twenty hits.
The first is a three-year-old story from the Chicago Tribune. According to the Trib, Stanley Haas is a suburban developer indicted for defrauding strip shopping center investors. Next, she reads a follow up story from the Daily Herald. In the Herald's story, DuPage State's Attorney Tom Franklin said charges against Stanley Haas were dropped because several witnesses recanted their stories. At the bottom of the page are two pictures. The first shows Franklin, the second Haas. Sarah's hands shake when she recognized Haas as Stan from the previous evening. The remaining search results are PR pieces regarding projects in which Stan is involved.
Why, Sarah wonders, would her cousin meet with Stan Haas? Her integrity as an attorney is above reproach. Something has brought the two of them together. The more Sarah stares at Stan's photo, the more chills race down her arms.
Monday afternoon as Sarah leaves school, her cell phone rings. Balancing a stack of books on her car, she reaches into her purse and pulls out the phone. "Hi Sarah this is David, we met at the martini bar on Saturday night."
Shocked, Sarah asks how he got her number.
"Oh yeah, well, I got it from Stan who got it from your cousin Kate."
"Well what do you want?" Sarah snaps. She is surprised by the tone in her voice, but this is absurd.
"I got a message from Stan. He says stay out of your cousin's business."
"Why?"
"I uh, don't know. That's all he said. But hey, listen, since you won't haggin' with Kate anymore what do you say we..."
Sarah slams the phone shut. Picking up her books, she tosses them in the back seat of the car. Sitting in the driver's seat, she turns the key. The engine gives a dry cough and belches black smoke from the tailpipe. Turning the key again, results in red lights illuminating the dashboard, but nothing more.
Fighting back tears, Sarah closes her eyes and rests her head on the steering wheel. She does not notice the dark Mercedes gliding next to her until the driver gets out and raps on her window. With a start, Sarah opens her eyes and looks up at Kate.
Opening the door, Kate pulls Sarah from the car and into an embrace. Afterward Kate holds her at arms length and studies her face. "Why are you crying?" she asks. "Is it your car?"
"Yes."
Kate looks at the rusty Ford. "I think it's dead."
"My car?"
"No," Kate says. "The battery silly, I think it's dead. Come on, hop in my car and we'll get you fixed up."
Sarah climbs into the Mercedes, and Kate settles behind the wheel. "Listen cuz, do you mind if we make one stop before taking care of your car?" Then, before turning the key, Kate snaps her fingers. "Is your car unlocked?"
"Yes, but it's okay, I have the keys."
Kate picks up her cell phone. "Let me call my auto club. I'll have them put a new battery in your car. You can pay me back later. How does that sound?"
"That's so nice, but you don't..."
"Don't be silly," Kate says. "What are cousins for? Go scoot and put your keys under the mat while I call them. I'll have them drop your car at your apartment." By the time Sarah returns to Kate's car, her cousin is completing the call to the auto club. Kate puts her phone away and looks at Sarah. "You remember Stan don't you? The guy you were drinking and flirting with on Saturday night."
"Kate, no! It wasn't like that. I was looking for you. Remember, you called me?"
"Oh that," Kate makes a dismissive gesture with her hand. "Stan and I had a fight. He can be so, what's the word. Oh yeah, a jerk. I am sure he liked you. Should I be jealous?"
Sarah shakes her head slowly. Kate glances at her and smiles. "Good. You don't need to get mixed up with a guy like Stan."
"What do you mean a guy like Stan? Sarah asks.
"Well, he's not very nice sometimes. We get along okay though."
Sarah's school is on 111th Street and Vincennes Avenue. In the early afternoon traffic, Kate is soon on 103rd Street and heading down the hill to Western Avenue. At Western, she turns south for another mile before pulling into the parking lot of a three-story office building.
Sarah glances at the building with apprehension. "How long do you think we will be?" she asks.
"It could be awhile. I told the auto club to bring your car by here in case you get bored. I have to get Stan to sign some papers and he won't be happy about them."
"What kind of papers?" Sarah asks.
"Believe me cuz, you don't want to know. Do me a favor though. Act cool about things will you. Whatever happens." Without waiting for a reply, Kate leaves the car and enters the building. Sarah trails behind. They ride an elevator to the top floor in silence. When the doors open, the two cousins walk into an office at the end of the corridor.
Stan is waiting in the dark reception area. After Sarah and Kate enter, Stan walks to the door and locks it. At a bank of switches, Stan flips on the lights. He looks at Kate and then at Sarah.
"Who do we have here Kate, your little sister?"
"Stan, don't be a moron. You remember Sarah from Saturday night."
As Stan looks her up and down, Sarah nervously pulls her jacket around her. She feels embarrassed to be dressed in a plain blouse and denim skirt while Kate and Stan are dressed in expensive business suits. Stan licks his lips. "Oh yeah I remember. How ya doin' Sarah?"
Sarah swallows before finding her voice. "Fine," she says softly.
Dismissing Sarah from the conversation, he turns to Kate. "What's so important you gotta see me right now?"
Kate motions at Sarah with her eyes. "Stan, why don't we go into your office to discuss this?"
"I got somebody in there, so let's take care of this now. I'm sure little Sarah won't mind." He turns to face her, "You don't mind do you?" Sarah shakes her head no. "You see Kate, everything is okay. Whatcha got?"
Kate throws a glance at Sarah and says, "Why don't you see if your car is outside." The sound of an automobile backfiring in the parking lot reaches the third floor. "It sounds like your car is out there now. Check and see if it's okay."
Sarah turns to open the door, but it does not budge. She looks at Stan. He smiles and shakes the keys at her. "You know I like having little Sarah around," Stan says. Why don't you just stay put." Sarah looks at Kate, but she just shrugs and opens her briefcase.
Clearing her throat, Kate hands Stan a sheaf of papers. "Stan the State's Attorney has decided to go ahead and press charges on the fraud complaint from three years ago. The court is going to allow the depositions of the, uh, missing witnesses entered into evidence. I know this is unusual, but according to my contacts several more witnesses have stepped forward."
"That's bullshit!" Stan yells. "There are no other witnesses. Who are these people, do you have a list?"
"It is in those papers I just gave you."
Stan rifles through the papers until he finds the list. "Great, I can handle these guys just like I did the last batch." He stares hard at Kate and Sarah. Sarah tries to shrink back into a corner.
"Stan you can't go around threatening witnesses," Kate says.
"Kate we both know I'm talking about a little more than threatening people."
Sarah lets out a gasp. Kate looks at her as if she forgot she is in the room. Turning back to Stan she says, "I'm an officer of the court, don't forget that. If I think harm may come to a witness, I have to report it."
Kate is bluffing and as soon as she sees Stan's reaction, she knows the bluff didn't work. Damn, she thinks. If only Sarah wasn't here. Kate thought bringing her would stop Stan from doing anything rash. Now Sarah's presence seems to have the opposite effect.
"Well, we have a real dilemma here don't we," Stan says. "Whatever this shit is about being an officer of the court, I don't buy it. We still have attorney-client privilege. I think the problem here is making sure little Sarah doesn't go around shooting her mouth off." He motions to Sarah, "Come over here."
Sarah sinks farther back in the corner. She tries to talk, but no words come out. Kate steps closer to her. "Stop it Stan. You're scaring her. Let her go and we'll figure something out."
Stan shakes his head and says, "Sorry Kate, it's a little too late for that." He reaches behind himself into a filing cabinet and he pulls out a Glock 9mm. "C'mere Sarah," he says as he raises the gun and releases the safety.
Kate steps in front of Sarah, as the Glock jumps in Stan's hand. The shot flies past them and shatters the door lock. Stan adjusts his aim and his second shot tears into Kate's chest. Now high on adrenal, Stan fires a third shot that goes wide of the mark. The bullet shatters as it strikes the wall safe to the right of Sarah's head. In the small room, slivers of the bullet fill the air like shotgun pellets. A small piece strikes Sarah just below the left eye. A larger fragment rebounds and hits Stan in the throat. With a groan, he reaches for the wound. Red arterial blood covers his hand when he pulls it away. Sarah watches in stunned silence as Stan slowly slides to the floor.
Her hands slippery with sweat, Sarah grabs the doorknob hoping it will open. The gunshot hardware shatters in her hand. She stumbles out of the office and into the hallway. As the door closes behind her, she sees David racing to Stan's body.
That's as far as Sarah got in telling me the story. After she got that far, the docs at Rush University Medical Center wheeled her into surgery. Course I don't need Sarah to tell anyone what occurred next. It's all in the police blotter down at District Five. But here's what happened.
Sarah ran down to her car. The new battery kicked that old engine right over. She headed back down Western Avenue to 103rd Street. When she got to Racine, she went north to the Dan Ryan Expressway. Hey, I have no idea where she was runnin' to. All's I know is, this is the route she took. She got off at 35th Street like she was going to a White Sox game. The cop's know this because a bus driver saw her sideswipe a streetlight at the bottom of the ramp. From there she headed toward Lake Shore Drive.
What she was doing I think was trying to head into the Loop. She worked one summer as an intern outta the police station on State Street. She never made it. Turns out David was following her from the moment she left Stan's building.
David wasn't good with the ladies. He was an even worse driver. The idiot caught up to Sarah a few blocks south of Soldier Field. Anyhow, Dennis ran into her and pushed her car off the bridge over 18th Street. It flipped a few times before stopping. According to the cops, David's car bounced off Sarah's Escort and skidded across two lanes of traffic before getting T-boned by a bus. There wasn't enough left of the moron to put into a shoebox.
So what I got is a dead cousin and a sister recovering from surgery. Personally, Kate and me was never close. So it is what it is. My mom's been going to mass each day praying for Sarah's recovery.
Me, I've been praying that Stan is rotting in hell.
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