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a
case like this. I don't think spending ten years with your nose in
a book is quite the preparation you need for this job. I worked my
ass off to get where I am. I went to George Mason University. I
trained at Quantico. Do you know how hard it is to get into
Quantico?"
    Okay, she could see his point, understand why
she was a sudden irritant. She wished she could tell him the truth,
tell him why she was every bit as qualified as he was, but she
couldn't. And anyway, none of that really mattered. Not Max
Irving's opinion of her, or her lack of a satisfactory
presentation. Catching the killer, that's what mattered.
    Ivy was ready to take the first apartment
they looked at, just to get it over with, just to get out of
Irving's car, get out of the noise, get Jinx settled, take a couple
of aspirin, be alone. She needed to be alone so all of this could
settle, could soak in. This being in Chicago, a place of
unspeakable horrors. Here. Now. All around her.
    Memories. She kept holding them back, holding
them back. . . . But they were building. She didn't know how much
longer she could hang on, how much longer before they came crashing
into her mind.
    "This place is no good," Irving said halfway
into the tour of the prospective apartment.
    Ivy opened her mouth to protest when Irving
grabbed her arm and dragged her with him down the dimly lit hall
that smelled of marijuana, body odor, cooked cabbage, and the
rotten smell a building succumbed to when the termites were done
with it.
    She planted her feet firmly on the floor and
wrenched her arm free, feeling true anger for the first time that
day, for the first time in maybe . . . years.
    "What the hell are you doing?" she
demanded.
    "Keeping you from making a stupid
mistake."
    She wanted to slug him. Instead, she pushed
at him with both hands while the manager watched from the open
doorway of the apartment they'd just exited. "Don't tell me what to
do," she said. "Are you always such an ass?"
    "Only when I have to be."
    "That's reassuring."
    He began ticking off the reasons she
shouldn't take the apartment. "Bad locks. Bad windows. Cockroaches.
And ... a crackhead living in the hallway."
    She followed the direction of his gaze to a
dark corner where she could barely make out a human shape curled up
on the tile floor.
    There were times to hold your ground, and
times to let that ground be conquered and taken. Irving could damn
well place his flag and take the battle for his own.
    His mobile phone rang and he quickly answered
it.
    "What time do you get off work?" Irving asked
the caller. Then, "I'll be there to pick you up. Understand? No
catching a ride with anybody, no taking off to Ryan's." A pause.
"No excuses. I'll be there at nine o'clock."
    When kids were little, you dropped them off
at the sitter and didn't worry about them for the rest of the day.
When they got older, got to be teenagers, it was a completely
different story.
    "A teenager?" she asked after Max ended the
call.
    "Yeah." There was a lot of weight in that
single word.
    "Ah." She nodded.
    "A son," he added, as if by telling her she
would understand how much more difficult having a son would be over
a daughter. Which told her he didn't have a daughter.
    "Ah."
    "You have any kids?"
    She'd been asked the question so many times
in her life that her reply was instant and without emotion. "No,
but my friend Helen says having a teenager is like living in a war
zone where you have to be hyper- vigilant at all times."
    He laughed and tucked his phone away.
"Ethan's a good kid. A great kid. We're just going through a rough
patch right now. We'll get through it."
    It wasn't his words, but rather the emotion
and emphasis behind them that told Ivy he loved his son very
much.
    The next apartment met with his reluctant
approval. It was a turnkey, meaning the basics like sheets, towels,
TV, and dishes were supplied. And there was a grocery store a block
away.
    The place had no living room to speak of.
Upon stepping inside, you were