Tuesday
I found Gregory Parks’ number in my bag and punched it in. I wasn’t surprised when a ubiquitous female voice recording instructed me to leave a message. Consultants are very busy people.
“Gregory, this is Ellie Foreman. We met at the aviation trade show last week at McCormick Place. I was producing a video for Delcroft. I wonder if you could give me a call.”
I left my cell number, disconnected, and wondered what to do. I couldn’t bring myself to call Mac with the news. Or commiserate with Teresa. I decided to binge-watch a season of Homeland—watching a bipolar CIA agent in trouble always cheers me up—and was just punching “Play” when my phone rang.
I picked up. “Ellie Foreman…”
There was a click on the line that I couldn’t figure out. Then a male voice, which sounded like it was coming from a distance. “This is Gregory Parks.”
“Mr. Parks, thanks for returning my call.” He obviously screened his calls. “I hope you remember me.”
“Yes. Yes, I do.” He didn’t sound impatient. More curious.
“I wonder if you’d be willing to meet with me.”
There was a long pause. Then: “Why?”
I cleared my throat. “Well, we’re in the middle of our project for Delcroft, and I know how interested and knowledgeable you are in aviation. I thought perhaps you’d like to see the workprint. I have it on a flash drive, which means I can meet you pretty much anyplace. I’d really like your input.”
“I’m sorry, but I’m no aviation expert. I don’t see how I can help.”
I thought about how to proceed. I didn’t know this guy, and I didn’t know a thing about his relationship to Hollander. I needed to be circumspect.
“Well, Gregory, we met with Charlotte Hollander yesterday and she seemed to react to your presence on our B-roll. I figured that was because—”
He cut in. “What is B-roll and how did I end up in your video?”
“Of course. I’m sorry.” I explained how B-roll was cover footage used to set the scene, cover narration, or transition between sound bites. “You did have an”—I searched for the polite words—“active presence at the booth.”
“I see.”
A wave of noise came over the phone connection. Then it vanished. I frowned. “She had a few—er—concerns about the videos, and I was hoping you might be able to shed some light on her thinking, since you two are obviously acquainted.”
“Ms. Foreman, I still—”
“Call me Ellie.”
“Yes. Ellie. I still don’t see what I can do for you. I hardly know Ms. Hollander. I’m just a simple consultant.”
My senses went on alert. Beware of anyone who claims to be an aw-shucks consultant. Especially if he looks like Keanu Reeves.
“I’m just asking for a few minutes of your time. Delcroft is an important player in the Chicago market, and I want to make sure my reputation is—um—A-plus going forward. Ms. Hollander has a lot of influence. Coffee or tea is on me. We could meet at Ann Sather’s if you’d like.” I snuck that one in. I wanted one of their cinnamon rolls. I needed one of their cinnamon rolls.
Parks didn’t reply. He was probably wondering what he was going to get out of the meeting. Honestly, the answer was nothing. I was going to pump him. So I was surprised when he said, “I’m not downtown. And you live in the suburbs.”
“How do you know that?”
There was a slight hesitation. “I—I assumed. At the trade show your director told me he was from Northbrook.”
I frowned. Mac wasn’t the chatty type. Especially with strangers. Which meant Parks must have been checking me out. But why? This was getting strange. Maybe I should forget about connecting with him. On the other hand, we would be meeting in a public place. Not some hidden back alley.
Then: “I suppose I can take the el in. I have an errand to run downtown anyway. Do you know the station where the Blue and Red Lines intersect?”
Parks must be west of the city if he was taking the Blue Line in. “Yes,” I answered. “At Jackson.” I hadn’t taken the el in years. “As I remember, there’s a pedway to get from one line to the other.”
“Exactly,” he said. “There’s a Starbucks in the pedway. I’ll meet you there. In two hours.”
It wasn’t as public a place as I would have liked, but it was better than nothing. “Okay. I’m pretty sure I remember you—I’ve certainly seen your face enough on the videos. Just in case, though, give me something to recognize you by.”
“I’ll be wearing a Burberry scarf and black North Face jacket.”
How preppy. “Great. I’ll look for you at Starbucks.”