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ALISSA

My Uber drops me off at my apartment. I get out, bracing against the chilly winter air.

I don’t know what I was thinking, storming out of that club in the black of night when just twenty-fours ago I was being cornered by those goons.

But I lucked out this evening. I called an Uber while I was walking out of the club, and within a minute, one had pulled up on the corner of Randolph and State. I made a beeline for the back seat and locked the door behind me. My driver, thankfully a woman, didn’t speak the entire drive.

Five bloody stars for her.

My phone rings. I pull it out of my purse and look at the screen. It’s Dinah.

Good grief. Does the hospital need me to come in?

I could ignore it. Send it to voicemail. I’m not on call tonight, so they can’t force me to come in.

But if they need me, they need me. Someone’s life could be on the line.

I accept the call and bring the phone to my ear. “What’s up?”

“Liss! I’ve got some great news.”

I sit down on my couch. “I could use some good news.”

My phone buzzes again. A text from Maddox. Probably asking me why the hell I left in such a hurry for the second night in a row. I’ll check it once I’m off the phone with Dinah.

“Carol got the lungs she needed.”

I drop my jaw. “She did?”

“Yeah. They finally found a match.”

My heart soars. Carol doesn’t have to die.

But then that means…

“What about Lou? He’ll be left all alone.”

“They’re still looking for a match for him. “

My heart sinks. “But if Carol gets better, he’ll die alone.”

“Liss, look on the bright side. Carol is in surgery as we speak. She’ll be able to breathe, talk, laugh, scream. She can visit Lou as he waits for a match.”

“Still, though…” I rub at my forehead. “They’re the same blood type. I was hoping one donor could cover both of them.”

“Hearts are in higher demand,” Dinah says. “But I’m sure they’ll find something for him, too. We thought Carol was a lost cause, but now she’ll get to live out the rest of her natural life breathing freely.”

“That’s… That’s great news, Di. I’m so happy for Carol.” I scratch my head. “I’ve got to let you go, though. Kind of dealing with something else. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Everything all right?”

I swallow. “I’m not sure right now. But everything will be, I hope.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

“Nothing you have to worry about. I’ll see you tomorrow, Di.”

“Okay. Take care.”

I end the call.

This really is fantastic news. It would be even more fantastic if Lou had gotten a heart out of the deal, too, but what Dinah said is right. It could be right around the corner. We’re only a few days into Lou and Carol’s one-month pact, and one of them already got what she needed.

Right now, I have other things to think about.

There’s something festering at Aces Underground. Something dark, something sinister. Every time I think about it, a chill creeps up my spine, my instincts screaming that whatever’s lurking in the depths of that place is dangerous. I know this feeling. I felt it whenever my mother was about to go on one of her tirades. Something in the air would shift. Dad and I both learned to sense it, and sometimes we were able to talk her down before things got out of control.

Sometimes we weren’t.

She never broke every dish in the house again, but there were other incidents, including one in particular that was so completely horrific that I never allow myself to think of it.

Focus, Alissa.

But it’s true.

I feel, right now, the same way I felt that day in her master bathroom before she?—

No. I shake the thought from my head.

I never allow myself to relive that day.

I close my eyes, shut down the memory.

Or try to.

But I can’t. I remember walking into the bathroom, seeing my mother gazing at her own reflection in the mirror, the look in her eyes unmistakable?—

“Oh!” I jerk at the knock on my door.

I look at my phone. It’s pretty late for visitors. And I didn’t buzz anyone up.

My heart was already thrumming, but now it speeds up even more.

I grab a knife from the kitchen counter, hold it between my fingers.

It’s Rouge. It has to be her. She knows that I know something. And she’s here to?—

“Alissa, it’s me.”

My heart slows down. It’s the rich, low voice of Maddox.

I look through the peephole to confirm it is indeed him and then open the door, throwing my arms around him.

“Hey there,” he says.

“I’m sorry I ran out on you again.” I kiss his lips. “I… I just couldn’t stand to be in that club for one more second. I felt like my very life was at stake.”

The melodrama isn’t lost on me, but I’m freaked.

“Baby, you’re never in danger when I’m around,” Maddox says gently into my ear.

“God, I hope that’s the case.”

“It is.” He looks over his shoulder. “But let’s go inside. I found something strange in my pocket. Someone at the club must have slipped it into my jacket while I was at the bar or something.”

I cock my head. “What?” My nerves skitter under my skin. It’s the same… Like May… Her message.

He nods. “I think it might have something to do with Sev—with May.”

“Let me see it.”

He pulls a piece of paper out of his jacket pocket. We walk inside, locking the door behind us, and sit down on my leather sofa. Maddox lays the note on the coffee table.

I read it.

A figure of black, with points to its rank

Was lost near a henge of cascading wet banks.

In fields where the grasses grow wild and unkempt,

Its crown was interred—placed perhaps with contempt.

Search not for the heart, nor the diamond or club,

For their sister lies still beneath flower and shrub.

Where wings take to sky, and landings draw nearly,

You’ll find what was hidden, its fate mirrored clearly.

“What the hell?” I ask.

“Precisely my thoughts,” Maddox says. “But read the first line. A figure of black, with points to its rank .”

“What does that mean. Like someone shrouded in a black cloak? Who maybe has some large amount of social credit? Points to its rank? ”

He shakes his head. “I think it means literally. And then go down a few lines. Search not for the heart, nor the diamond or club. ”

I press my lips together. “That just leaves the spade.”

“Exactly,” he says. “I think that’s what the first line refers to. Not a figure as in a person, but a figure as in a symbol. Spades have points, both at the top, and then at the little stem at their bottom.”

“So a spade…was lost?” I clap my hand over my chest. “Oh my God, it’s referring to May! The Seven of Spades! Her suspension.”

“I think so,” Maddox says. “But the rest is gobbledygook to me. I thought you may be able to figure it out. You’re a musician, so you’ve got a creative side.”

I bite my lip. “Not so sure how creative I am. Everything I ever played was written by someone else. I was never much for composing. You can ask my music theory professors.”

He smiles. “You may have taken works from other composers, but I’m sure you made them your own. All musicians do. Otherwise no one would ever care to listen to music live when they could just pull up a recording on Spotify.”

I shrug. “I guess when you put it like that…” I look over the riddle again. “There are two lines pertaining to nature. First here”—I point—“where it says fields where the grasses grow wild and unkempt and then beneath flower and shrub. ”

“So you think it’s talking about a park or something?”

“Or a nature preserve. Wild and unkempt would imply something that isn’t manmade.”

Maddox scratches his chin. “There’s not a whole lot of stuff that isn’t manmade in Chicago.”

“Maybe this indicates a location outside of the city. Some place where we might find evidence that Rouge is up to something.”

“Or it could be leading us into a trap,” Maddox says.

I frown. “I didn’t think of that.” I pick up the note. “And you don’t know who could have slipped this into your jacket?”

“No idea at all,” he says. “But the only people who would have been milling about the area were the waitstaff. Maybe they’re trying to get a message out but encoding it in a riddle in case they get caught. Why me, though?”

“Why me?” I ask. “May came to me.” I stroke my chin. “But this message is written in perfect English. With perfect meter, rhymes, and everything. May barely spoke English. I assume the same could be the case for all the other waitstaff.”

Maddox shrugs. “Just because May’s English was basic doesn’t mean that’s the case for everyone. Some people pick up languages more easily than others.”

“Yes, but this ”—I point to the note—“could have been written by Shakespeare.”

“And who’s to say none of the waitstaff are literary scholars?” Maddox asks. “They’re all working toward a life after their five-year term at the club is up. Some of them might be reading up on the greats.”

“I suppose.” I return my focus to the note. “ Crown was interred… ” I snap my fingers. “Rouge wears a tiara. This must be referring to something having to do with her. Maybe some treasure she received in exchange for services rendered.” I rub at my temples as I think it through. “So there’s evidence hidden in a field somewhere. Or a park. Some sort of greenery.” I sigh. “There are about a million parks in Chicago, and that’s not counting the suburbs.”

“There must be something else in the note that can help us narrow it down,” Maddox says.

I nod, rereading the second line. “ Lost near a henge of cascading wet banks. ” I scratch my head. “Maybe there’s a park near a bank downtown.”

“That doesn’t really narrow it down, anyway,” Maddox says. “There are a million banks in Chicago as well.”

I squint at the note. “ Wet banks . Could that be indicating a specific bank? One near a body of water or something?” I slap my hand to my forehead. “Or— duh —it could be referring to banks as in a riverbank.”

“True. That would explain cascading as well.” Maddox twiddles his fingers. “Or…it could be referring to a bank that issues wet loans. Loans that don’t require documentation before the funds are released.”

I raise an eyebrow. “That sounds illegal.”

Maddox pulls out his phone and taps on it for a few seconds. “Yes, those are in fact illegal in the state of Illinois. The Predatory Loaning Prevention Act.”

“So we’d be looking for a bank that does that sort of stuff under the table.”

He shrugs. “Or we can return to your theory about riverbanks.”

“We’ll put a pin in that for now.” I return to the note. “ Where wings take to sky, and landings draw nearly. ” I mull it over. “Maybe we’re looking for a park that has a lot of birds in it? Or an avian sanctuary?”

“It’s February.” Maddox smirks. “The only birds that have stuck around are the penguins in the zoo.”

“And their wings don’t take to sky…” I rub at my forehead. “Wings… Wings… Landings…” I jerk my head up. “A plane!”

“I was just thinking the same thing,” Maddox says. “Maybe we’re looking for a green area near an airport.”

“There are two major airports in Chicago. Midway and O’Hare.” I pull up my Maps app and look up Midway International Airport first, scanning the area. “Midway has a few small parks surrounding it, but nothing that I would qualify as ‘unkempt.’ It’s in the middle of a bunch of buildings for the most part.”

“What about O’Hare?”

“Already on it.” I clear the search cache and type in O’Hare International Airport on the same app. “O’Hare is out near Des Plaines.” I look through the surrounding area on the map, and…

“Oh my God.”

“What is it?”

“There’s a huge strip of undeveloped land just east of O’Hare.” I scroll down the satellite image of it, reading the names overlaying the greenery. “Algonquin Woods, Iroquois Woods, Monument Park, Catherine Chevalier Woods, Schiller Woods.” I cast my gaze to the floor of my living room. “It’s huge, Maddox. Even if this is the place we’re looking for, there are any number of areas where evidence could be hidden.”

“But it’s a place near cascading wet banks. ”

“Which could refer to an actual bank, or a riverbank.” I scroll again. “The Des Plaines river cuts through the green space. But again, the bank could be anywhere along the river.”

He scratches his chin. “But I’m still stuck on the word cascading . That word usually only ever refers to a waterfall.”

“And then there’s henge ,” I say. “That’s certainly an odd choice of word. That makes me think of Stonehenge back in the UK.”

“Which would imply a manmade series of stones.”

I frown. “But it has to also be unkempt .”

“Yes, but the second line says that it’s near the henge.” He points at the phone number at the top of the note. “We’re supposed to call whoever gave me this note once we get there, and then I bet we’ll receive further instructions. They can’t lay it all out in this first note, otherwise it would be damning if they were caught handing it off to me. Maybe we’re supposed to start at the manmade section—the henge—and then go from there.”

“But we still don’t know where the bloody hell this henge could be.”

Maddox peers over my shoulder at my phone. “Of all those locations you read as you scrolled just now, which one was closest to the airport? Where would you be able to see the planes taking off and landing?”

I zoom in. “Looks like Monument Park and the Chevalier Woods are the closest to the airport proper.”

He presses his lips together. “Monument Park was the only thing you listed that wasn’t labeled as ‘Woods.’ Google it and see what comes up.”

The image that comes up nearly makes me drop my phone.

Cascading waterfalls, just as the second line of the riddle suggested, pouring over a wall of large rocks. In the background are some evergreen trees, and in front of the waterfall is a large metal sign bearing the words Village of Rosemont .

“Rosemont,” I say. I look up at Maddox again. “What was Rouge’s last name again?”

His eyebrows nearly fly off his head as the thought hits him. “Montrose. A reversal of the syllables.”

“ Its fate ”—I point to the last line of the riddle—“ mirrored clearly. ”

He exhales sharply. “Holy shit. We cracked it.”

“So it would seem.” I look closer at the note. It looks like something was written under the note but then erased. “Can you make out what this was supposed to say? It could be something more.”

Maddox grabs the note from me and squints at it. “I didn’t even notice it. Looks like someone wrote three letters but then thought better of it.”

I take the note from him. “This one is a C, and I think the second one is an A. And this could be a capital T. Cat?”

He rubs his chin. “Maybe there’s a statue of a cat at Monument Park or something. Maybe that hint would have given it away too easily, so the writer decided to not include it.”

“Perhaps.” I get to my feet. “Well, shall we?”

“Alissa, it’s late. It’s not safe for you to be going into the middle of some park in the dead of night.”

“Of course it isn’t.” I hold out my hand. “That’s why I want you to come with me.”