I set my empty beer down on the conference room table, gently pushing it to the side to rest with the small collection of bottles Max and I have created in the last hour.

“I can’t believe Brittany Ives really did it,” he says, shaking his head. He turns another page in the file in front of him. “She got Alonso Argento to talk.”

I lean back in my chair, stretching until I hear a pop in my neck. “You know her?”

“Oh, yeah,” he says. “Faced off with her plenty of times when I worked for my Dad’s firm back in LA.” He shoves the file aside and grabs the Chinese take-out carton to his left.

“I can’t believe you were on Alonso’s defense team,” I say, making him cringe.

“Very briefly.” He stabs a bit of orange chicken with his plastic spork. “I quit in protest.”

“I thought you quit because your dad is a psychotic jackass.”

He laughs. “Well, you’re not wrong.” He takes a bite and swallows quickly. “Unfortunately, that means I’m not exactly privy to all the information you want to pump me for.”

I wave a hand. “A second pair of eyes will help anyway and this felt right up your alley.”

“You know I’m happy to help, Lance,” he says. “And I was passing through Chicago anyway, so…”

“You wanted a free lunch?”

He raises his mighty spork. “Damn right.”

I chuckle but my smile slowly falls. “I can’t screw this up.”

“Then, don’t.”

“The State’s Attorney is retiring this year,” I say. “I want that job.”

“Then, get it.”

“But I won’t get elected without a big win.”

“Then, do it.”

I point at him. “Not helpful.”

He sets the take-out carton aside with a grin. “All right. Let’s do this.” He sits up in his chair and rubs his scalp, pushing his brown hair to the side as he does. “The Argento brothers are out of the picture. Alonso is serving time in California. Angelo’s in Cook County jail. Who’s running things while they’re gone?”

I gesture to the stack of photos in the back of the file. “That would be Angelo’s twin boys,” I answer. “Danny and Gavin.”

Max lays their mugshots out side-by-side. The photos are about a decade old from a few minor teenage misdemeanors. They’ve managed to keep their records fairly clean since then but their names are the first to get whispered in the dark corners of certain neighborhoods.

Max pulls out a third photo, this one more recent of the pair talking in a parking lot, and breathes a laugh. “Which one is which?” he asks.

“Gavin’s got the scar,” I say, drawing a line down my forehead.

He looks closer. “Ah, cool…”

“They’re laying low for the most part since Angelo got arrested,” I say. “We put some private detectives on them but they’re just living their lives.”

“They’re smart,” Max mutters as he sifts through more photos.

“Too smart. They learned from their father’s mistakes.” I rub the back of my head. “Angelo’s conviction is in the bag. That’s great but I’ll have a better shot at getting elected State’s Attorney if I take out the boys, too.”

“For that, you’ll need one hell of a smoking gun.”

I sigh. “I know.”

Max pauses with a pinched brow and taps another photo in front of him. “She looks familiar. Who’s this?”

I lean forward, tilting my head to get a better look. “Oh, that…”

I stare at the stunning female form standing on a stage, waving to the crowd as she shakes the mayor’s hand. Dark, shoulder-length hair. Plump, red lips and tanned skin.

“That is Beatrix. Angelo’s daughter.”

“I didn’t know he had a daughter.”

“Beatrix is his firstborn,” I explain. “Her mother died shortly after her birth and Angelo almost immediately went and married his pregnant mistress.”

He scoffs. “Classy.”

I nod with rolling eyes. “She divorced him about fifteen years ago, took a small fortune with her and left the boys behind. Angelo had his precious heirs so Beatrix was mostly raised by her grandmother. Nowadays, she represents them at social gatherings, charity events, parades, hospital fundraisers, you name it. She’s the face of the family.”

He cants the photo to the left. “And not a bad one at that…”

“Yeah. It’s amazing the kind of bullshit you can make the public swallow when you put a pretty face on it.”

“Is she clean?”

“A few parking tickets in her college years but nothing linking her to her family’s more interesting activities,” I answer. “Four-year degree from Northwestern in Communications. Double minor in Public Relations and Poli Sci.”

He laughs. “So, not only is it bullshit; it’s calculated, convincing bullshit.”

“You’d think putting a mobster behind bars would have unanimous public support but the Argentos are extremely well-liked among Chicago socialites — and it’s all because of Beatrix.”

“I’ve gotta hand it to Angelo,” he says. “He knows exactly what he’s doing. His sons keep the streets happy, his daughter keeps the establishment happy, his brother does the family’s dirty work, all the while he sits back and reaps the benefits of all of it. It’s not unimpressive.”

“You’re right.” I nod. “Unfortunately for me, it makes my job more difficult. A well-oiled machine like that means loyalty and not just among family.”

He leans forward to get another look at Beatrix’s photo. “She probably knows more than anybody,” he says, squinting in thought. “Have you talked to her yet?”

I shake my head. “She’s coming in tomorrow but if she’s anything like her brothers, I’m expecting a lot of not to my knowledge and I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Push her. And then keep pushing. His sons are the apples of his eye. Hardened criminals. But her…” He taps her photo again. “She’s your weakness. You flip her, the entire house comes tumbling down.”

I nod. “I hope you’re right.”

“Hey.” He turns up his palms and juts his head to the side; that same cocky smirk he had at Stanford. “Have my instincts ever been wrong?”

“Do you want me to answer that honestly?”

“No,” he says with a laugh. He grabs his jacket off the chair and slips it on. “Anyway, I have a flight to catch.”

I stack the photos to the side. “You’re flying back to New York tonight?” I ask.

“Yeah. It’s my roommate’s birthday and our girlfriend has been planning a surprise party for weeks. If I miss it, I’ll never hear the end of it.”

I pause with a raised brow. “Our girlfriend?”

He smiles, his cheeks turning pink for a brief moment. “It’s a long story… I’ll tell you about it when I come back through town in a few weeks.”

“Over a drink, I imagine,” I joke.

“Oh, it’d be required.” He laughs and extends his hand over the table to me. “Good to see you again, man. Thanks for lunch. Keep me updated on your case.”

“I will.” I shake his hand. “Have a safe flight.”

“Say hi to Haley for me.”

“Will do.”

Max picks up his briefcase and leaves, taking my curiosity over his living situation with him. There will be plenty of time to dissect that little nugget of information later.

My eyes fall to the stack of photos in front of me. I push the top ones aside with my thumb until I see her pleasant face again.

Beatrix. I’ve had my suspicions about her but she’s better at maintaining her image than anyone. This is no surprise, obviously. It’s her job to look good and to make her family look good. Max is probably right. You can’t know what to lie about without knowing something.

Push her. And then keep pushing.

My phone vibrates on the glass tabletop. I peel my attention away from Beatrix long enough to catch the screen before it disappears.

Where are you?

I grit my teeth as I realize I’ve lost all track of time.

Will be home soon, I tap out in reply, quickly hitting send and hoping for the best.