103: Gabby Deegan got off the number 57 bus at West Roosevelt and walked the three blocks to Designated Driver in the falling snow, nearly slipping twice on the icy sidewalk.
The building wasn’t very large, a squat, square structure with a flat roof surrounded by half a dozen small white hatchbacks covered in branding for Designated Driver and the words STUDENT DRIVER plastered on every available surface in bright red. The cars were layered in snow, no doubt sidelined by the weather.
Gabby pulled open the front door, fighting the wind, and ducked inside. A woman in her mid-fifties looked up from a copy of the Tribune and frowned at her. “We’re closed today, sweetie. I just came in to catch up on some paperwork. I can make you an appointment for next week after this weather breaks.”
Pulling off her gloves and hat, Gabby approached the counter. It smelled like burnt coffee. “I’m actually not here to make an appointment.”
The woman’s frown deepened. She returned to her paper. “Well, we’re not buying anything either.”
“I think a friend of mine was in here a few days ago. I’m trying to find her.” She loaded a picture of Lili Davies on her phone and held it toward the woman.
The woman’s eyes met Gabby’s, and for a second Gabby thought she was going to ask her to leave again. Then she set down the paper and looked at the phone. “Pretty little thing, looks familiar.” She reached for the phone and held it close to her face, squinting. “I don’t know how you kids can use these little things. Mine is as big as a tablet.”
“She would have been in here earlier this week.”
Her head tilted to the side. She glanced at her newspaper, then handed the phone back to Gabby, frowning again. “I don’t know what game you’re playing, but I don’t appreciate it.”
“I’m not—”
The woman behind the counter picked up her newspaper and folded the front page over, setting it down in front of Gabby. “I should call the police and report you.”
Gabby looked down at this morning’s Tribune. Lili’s picture was on the front page, along with that of two other girls, girls she didn’t know. There was a boy too. The headline read: KILLER CLAIMS THIRD VICTIM, ANOTHER MISSING. POLICE STUMPED.
“Was she in here?”
“Of course not, I’d remember something like that. You go telling people that she was, and your parents will be hearing from our lawyers.”
Gabby wanted to push the issue, to shout at this woman, make her check the records, but she didn’t. Her eyes had fixed on the small stack of business cards on the counter beside her. She grabbed one, put on her hat and gloves, and pushed back out into the cold.
Once outside, she loaded the picture Lili had sent her back onto her phone. She pinched the image and zoomed in on the iPad in Lili’s hand, on the message that said she won, then she glanced at the business card, then at the front of the building.
The phone number on the card, the building, and even the cars ended with 0000. The one on Lili’s iPad, the number she had been told to call to claim her prize, was completely different, and even the area code didn’t match.
Gabby dialed the number Lili had been given and pressed the phone tight against her ear, sealing out the howling wind. Her call was answered on the fifth ring. Gabby could see the woman inside the small building, still reading her paper.
“Designated Driver Driving School, how may I help you?” The voice on the other end of the line was gruff, a man’s voice. He had trouble pronouncing the s in school.