Reunited By The Badge. Deborah Fletcher Mello

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      Paul’s mind was racing as he searched out a parking space in the West Loop neighborhood. His anxiety level was at an all-time high and he took two deep breaths to calm his nerves. After shutting down the engine of the luxury vehicle, he checked and then double-checked the address Mingus had given him before stepping out of the car.

      Paul paused at the chain-link fence that bordered the property. He looked left and then right, assessing his surroundings before he stepped through the latched gate, then reclosed it behind him. He took the steps two at a time and depressed the doorbell. As he waited, he paced, his eyes darting back and forth across the landscape.

      The elderly woman who answered the door eyed him with reservation. “What’cha want, baby?”

      “Good morning, ma’am. I’m here to see Liza? My name’s Paul Reilly. Mingus Black sent me.”

      The woman didn’t respond, still staring at him intently. She was petite in stature, wearing a floral housecoat and a full-length apron that stopped below her knees. There was a dishcloth in her hand and a light brush of white flour dusting her chubby cheek. Her gaze swept over him, running the length of his body from head to toe. After sizing him up she finally unlocked the door and pushed it open to allow him entry.

      “Come on in, baby. I’m Pearl Hill but e’erybody calls me Mama. You want somethin’ to eat? I got a pan of biscuits ’bout to come out the oven. I got some fatback and bacon, too, but Liza don’t eat no meat. You ain’t one of them vegans, too, are you?” she asked, her words laced with a Southern drawl and coming in what sounded like one long, drawn-out sentence before she took another breath.

      Paul smiled. “No, thank you, ma’am. I’m good.”

      She sized him up a second time. “You know you hungry,” she said with an air of finality. “I’m gon’ make you a plate.” She pointed down a flight of stairs. “Liza’s down in the basement. She’s expecting you.”

      Paul nodded as she continued toward the back of the home and the kitchen. The stately greystone, an architectural staple in Chicago since the 1890s, was built from Bedford limestone and named for its color. It was oversize, the craftsmanship evident in the exterior detail. The interior of the duplex featured wide-plank oak flooring, high ceilings and an abundance of natural light. Moving down the steps Paul discovered the lower-level bonus room with walls of computer screens and a young woman who looked like a bag of Skittles candy had exploded over her.

      Liza was very young. Much younger than he’d expected, and he hadn’t known what he might have been walking into. Her royal blue hair had a streak of white in the front that was swept across her brow and was pulled into a high ponytail adorned with a barrette of yellow flowers. She wore an orange, yellow and pink tie-dyed sweat suit with red Converse sneakers. She was the Rainbow Brite character on steroids, and she made Paul smile.

      “Hey! Mingus didn’t come with you?” she said, her hands coming to an abrupt halt atop the keyboard she was typing on.

      Paul shook his head. He couldn’t help but wonder what she did for Mingus and how they knew each other. “No,” he answered, “but I think he’s coming.”

      She shrugged and resumed her typing. “Mama Hill’s going to be pissed. She’s up there cooking bacon for him right now and she knows how much I hate the smell of pig cooking in the kitchen. He better come.”

      “He…well…it’s…”

      “No worries. We’ll see him when we see him. Until then though, you’ll have to eat the bacon.”

      Paul took two steps forward. “Is Mama Hill your grandmother?”

      Liza shot him a look. “She’s everyone’s grandmother. So, what do you need?”

      “I just have messages on my phone that I need to print out.”

      Liza gestured for him to take a seat beside her. “What’s your email address?” she asked.

      Paul reached for his phone, stopping when she asked him again.

      “I just need your email address, not your phone.” She pushed a pad of paper and an ink pen toward him.

      After writing down his personal email address, Paul pushed the pad back to her. “I just need any messages that might have come in the last three days,” he said softly.

      A few short minutes later paper was spewing from a Xerox multifunction printer in the corner of the room. Liza gestured with her head, pointing him toward the ream of documents filling the output tray.

      “So, you’re a hacker,” Paul said as he began sorting through the papers for those he needed and the ones he didn’t.

      “I prefer ‘skilled computer expert.’”

      “You just look so young.”

      Her brows raised but she didn’t look in his direction, studying the screen before her instead. “I’m older than you think,” she muttered.

      “Can you get into anyone’s computer system?”

      “What do you need?”

      “Everything you can get on a company called Lender Pharmaceuticals and what they have on a drug called Halphedrone-B. Not sure where you’d look, but maybe start in their research and development department? Maybe any communications about the drug between their management team?”

      Liza typed, her head shifting from side to side as data filled the two screens on the desktop and then more information began to cover the larger screens on the walls. Liza stopped typing and stared from one screen to another, deciphering code that looked like a foreign language to Paul.

      He was impressed with Liza’s expertise as he watched pages of emails and reports begin to fill the computer screens and he wasn’t sure why because what they were doing was highly illegal. If he didn’t already have enough problems, this might top his list and send him straight to prison. But curiosity had gotten the better of him. And Simone wasn’t there to play devil’s advocate and make him change his mind about asking for the information. He knew Simone would not be pleased, and he was sure she’d have his head when she found out. He took a deep breath as he imagined the choice words she would spew.

      “This may take a minute,” Liza said finally, pulling at his attention. “They have some serious firewalls up to keep people like me out.”

      “But you can get in without them knowing?”

      She gave him a look, her expression twisted with evident annoyance at his question. “Go eat some bacon. I’ll call you if I need you.” She reached for a remote that rested on the table and music suddenly filled the room. It was something classical, a poetic blend of flutes, violins and a piano. She threw him one last glance as she turned the volume up high, then she resumed typing, her blue hair swaying with the music.

      Upstairs, Mama Hill had set the kitchen table with five places. A feast for twenty sat table center. There was a platter of hot biscuits, crispy bacon, buttered СКАЧАТЬ