It turned out to just be a sales call anyway. Logan quickly and politely dismissed them, then hung up. The second the phone was back in its cradle, he picked it right back up and dialed Peters’s personal line. There was an answer within seconds.
“What can I do for you?”
“I need you to run a plate number,” Logan told him.
“Shouldn’t be a problem. Is this from your new case?”
“Sure is.”
“Okay. I’m not going to ask how you got it, but here goes.”
Logan waited quietly, letting his gaze wander the room. Maggie had taken her coffee to his favorite armchair, where she sat cross-legged and sipped slowly on the mug while staring into space. It then crossed his mind that she hadn’t eaten since the whole affair with her sister. He wondered if she was okay.
“You there?” Peters asked.
“Uh-huh.”
“I hate to tell you this, but no such plate exists.”
“What?”
“Either the driver modified their plate somehow, or your source lied. I’m sorry.”
Logan let out a long, exasperated sigh, thanked him, and hung up.
“That doesn’t sound like good news,” Maggie said.
“It wasn’t. Means I’ve been chasing ghosts and I wasted twenty dollars.”
“What cost twenty dollars?”
“It doesn’t matter. I—”
The phone rang again, its shrill cry piercing the otherwise calm air in the room. It had always bugged him how loud the ringer was, but in his line of work, it was better to never miss a call. This was a small price to pay, and Logan still felt that way as he reached for the phone.
“Logan Fox,” he said.
“Are you sitting down?”
It was his informant, her voice more serious than ever. It made a small patch on the back of his neck fire up, and suddenly, he began to expect the worst. Logan steeled himself and prepared for his case to reach new depths of darkness.
“Lay it on me,” he said.
“I thought you might like to know a young woman’s body has been found.”
“This is Chicago. Plenty of—” He glanced at Maggie and chose his words carefully. “They’re everywhere. It’s not enough to worry me.”
“Not even when parts are cut off them?”
That did it. Logan’s heart was punching through his chest in a frantic rhythm as he took the address down on a notepad, tore it off, then reached for his coat. He didn’t tell Maggie where he was going. Instead, he kept a calm composure and told her he was heading out.
“There’s food in the fridge,” he said. “Help yourself.”