Page 212 of Lorenzo

I have Harbor Peak. I have three shell corporations feeding money to Rachel, and I have Lorenzo’s reaction when I connected them to a company that collapsed shortly after the Contis arrived in Chicago.

Now I have a security detail.

That is plenty to work with.

I turn onto the block where my office is located.

The SUV does not follow me all the way down. It continues through the intersection behind me and disappears from view.

A little too late for that.

“So subtle.”

Mocha yawns.

“You're a terrible partner.”

I pull into a space in front of the building and shut off the engine.

For a moment, I sit behind the wheel and look through the windshield.

The morning is completely ordinary. Cars move along the street. A few people pass on the sidewalk. Someone walks out of the coffee shop down the block carrying a paper bag in one hand.

Nothing looks different.

I know better.

I reach for my coffee and take another drink before setting it back in the cup holder. Then I grab my laptop bag from behind the seat.

Mocha is already standing.

I get out, sling the bag over my shoulder, retrieve my coffee, and open the passenger door.

“Okay.”

Mocha hops down.

I shut the door and lock the car, then automatically scan both directions along the street.

No SUV.

That tells me almost nothing.

If Lorenzo’s security is competent, someone can still see me from somewhere nearby.

I consider giving them a wave.

I decide against it, mostly because I have no idea which direction would be most insulting.

Mocha walks beside me toward the building.

I balance my coffee in one hand and open the exterior door with the other.

The hallway is quiet. My shoulders drop in relief.

Then I notice the light through the glass door across from mine.

Harold is already here.