My phone vibrated in my jacket’s inner chest pocket. I reached in, pulled it out, and saw that a text had come in from Lynn. She wanted to meet at Harry’s Steak House in Hyde Park that night. The location was convenient enough and possibly a halfway point between our homes. She asked if seven o’clock would work. Even though I had no idea how long our interviews would take, I sent a short reply saying it was fine. I’d worry about the time once it was closer.
“Something important?” Frank gave a side-eyed glance in my direction.
“Nah, just my cell phone’s bill reminder, and it looks like the cost went down a bit. Maybe it’s finally paid off.”
He nodded. “Less money spent is always a plus.”
We arrived at Debbie Bachman’s address fifteen minutes later. Frank parked along the curb in front of a small white house, and although it looked clean and the yard was maintained, the house could still use a fresh coat of paint. When we reached the porch, Frank folded his hand and knocked twice on the steel door. We heard footsteps approaching, meaning somebody was home.
The door opened with a chain lock separating us from a woman who appeared to be in her early forties.
“May I help you?” She kept most of her face behind the door.
I showed her my badge. “We’re from the Chicago PD, ma’am, and have a few questions for you.”
She pulled back. “Me? Why?”
“May we come in?”
Her eyes looked beyond us and at the cruiser before she responded. She looked at Frank. “Can I see your badge too?”
“Sure thing.” Frank unclipped his badge from his belt loop and held it out on our side of the door but in plain view for her to see.
“Okay, I guess.” She closed the door, and we heard the chain go through the slide. A second later, she pulled the door wide open. “May I ask what this is about?”
“Sure, we’ll explain why we’re here once we’re inside if you don’t mind.”
She led the way to the room nearest the front door—a family room. She offered us seats on the couch then faced us from a side chair.
“We’re here about a dating site you’re a member of.”
“What? You can’t be serious.”
“We’re very serious, ma’am. Do you know a Cliff Howard?”
“I’ve exchanged messages with a man named Cliff, but I don’t know his last name. He went by the username In-Demand, which in itself rubs me the wrong way. Our communication fizzled quickly. He was too full of himself.”
“So you never met him in person?” Frank asked.
“No.”
“Where were you two nights ago between eleven p.m. and three in the morning?”
“At work. I’m employed at Strategic Communication Corporation, and I work third shift. That’s easy enough to verify with the personnel department. They have my time sheet.”
“Have you communicated with Cliff since then?”
“No, and he hasn’t messaged me either, which makes me more than happy. He was just creepy.” She shook her head. “I’ll probably cancel my membership and try to meet people through friends, which seems much safer.”
As cops, we had heard horror stories about online dating, and now, without anyone’s knowledge, I had put myself in that very pool. We thanked her for her time and left. I discreetly glanced at my wristwatch as we headed to the cruiser.
“Busted.” Frank chuckled. “Where do you need to be, and why?”
I groaned and wondered if I would regret telling Frank about Lynn and the dating site. Frank was a tough codger, a lifelong bachelor like myself but far more cynical about marriage—likely because both his parents had been married and divorced three times. He was my partner, though, and closest work friend. If I couldn’t spill the beans to him, I couldn’t spill them to anyone.
We climbed into the cruiser, and he sat behind the wheel, staring at me. “If you don’t start talking, I’m going to light up a cigarette and lock all the doors and windows.”
“You wouldn’t.”
“Try me, because I’m not kidding.” He pulled a cigarette out of the pack he had stashed in his pocket and pressed it between his lips. The lighter came out a second later.
“Okay, fine. I’ll tell you everything.” Since I didn’t want to be asphyxiated by second-hand smoke, I caved in. “I need a sincere promise from you first.” I pointed at the window locks. Frank pushed the lever to disengage the locks, and I opened my window several inches. “I’ll talk as you drive.”
“Because you have somewhere to be.”
“I need you to promise not to laugh at me.”
Frank smiled. “Now you have me wanting to laugh.”
I ignored his comment and began. “I’ve been thinking about this for months and finally joined a dating site.”
A wide grin spread across Frank’s face. He was definitely doing his best to hold back his laughter.
I gave him a stern frown. “I’m done.”
“Come on. I’ll control myself.”
“Whatever. Anyway, I was browsing the site a few nights back and saw I had three messages. I eliminated the first two women right away simply because they wouldn’t have been a good match.”
“And the third?” Frank seemed genuinely interested now.
“Her profile matched up pretty well with my core values and desires in life. Plus, she’s a beautiful blonde.”
Frank snickered. “Probably a picture purchased from stock photos.”
“You said—”
“Sorry, go ahead. I’ll zip it.”
“They weren’t stock photos because I met her last night for drinks.”
“No shit? Where?”
“At Woodland Tap.”
“And?”
“And she’s nice enough, but she seemed to be glossing over her life when I asked questions.”
“Dude, it was the first date. Nobody normal would cough up their life story to a perfect stranger.”
I rubbed my furrowed forehead. “I suppose, but then she came on to me.”
“Hell, I’d be on board with that. What happened?”
“She started rubbing my leg and suggested we go to her place for a nightcap.”
“Tell me you did.”
I rolled my eyes at my overly enthusiastic partner. “Really? Would you jump in the sack with someone you just met?”
“Depends on how she looks. If she was hot, hell yeah.”
“You’re disgraceful.”
“And you’re a prude.” Frank chuckled. “Okay, get back to the story.”
“There isn’t a story to tell. I didn’t go to her place, but I did walk her to her van, and then I asked her out for tonight, this time for dinner.”
“And then after dinner, you’ll go home with her for a nightcap because you aren’t strangers anymore, right?”
“I’m not sure. We’ll see how it goes.” I looked down at my phone. “We’re almost to Patricia Moore’s place. Should be a half mile up on my side of the street.”
“I’ll try to keep the interview under an hour,” Frank joked as we took the sidewalk to the front door.
I pressed the doorbell. “Thanks, buddy. I know how you can get long-winded.” We waited for a minute, then I pressed the bell again and listened at the door. I didn’t hear anything. “Think she’s at work?”
“Maybe. She works at a daycare center, and they usually have to stick around until all the parents have picked up their kids. The daycare my sister uses opens at six a.m. and closes at six p.m. Monday through Friday.”
“Well, we better get over there and have a word with her before we cross paths on the highway.”
Now it was Frank who pushed up his sleeve and he said it was five fourteen. “With a twenty-minute drive there and another thirty minutes back to the district, you’ll be late for your date, and that doesn’t even include the interview itself. You won’t have time to go home and clean up. Where are you meeting her, anyway?”
“At Harry’s Steak House in Hyde Park.”
“Yeah, you’ll never make it. Drop me off at the daycare, go back to the precinct, and tell Henry to come out here to pick me up. By then, I’ll probably be done with the interview. You’ll have to deal with Lutz in your own way.”
“You sure?”
Frank swatted the air. “Yeah, no sweat, but I want to hear all the juicy details tomorrow.”
“Thanks, pal, but let’s make sure Patricia Moore is actually there first.”