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Stefan had been a busy man since the previous evening, when he’d overheard the conversation between Sara, Barrington, and that other lawyer.

First, he’d called the same guy who’d put him in touch with Ricky Gennaro to deal with Sara’s blind date.

This time he asked if the guy had a similar contact in Chicago.

He did, and for a couple hundred dollars, he sent Stefan the information for a man named Rudy Grove.

Stefan had set up a meeting for the morning, so he’d booked an early flight.

As soon as he landed at O’Hare Airport, he grabbed a cab into the city.

Rush-hour traffic meant he was ten minutes late to Pancake Café, the restaurant where he was to meet Grove.

Grove had said he’d be wearing a Cubs shirt.

That didn’t turn out to be as helpful as Stefan would have liked, as there were at least a dozen people in Cubs shirts, several of whom were eating alone.

As Stefan scanned the dining area, a weaselly guy on the other side of the room caught his eye and waved him over.

When Stefan reached the table, the guy said, “You the one I talked to last night?”

“Maybe. Are you Rudy?”

“Duh.” He pointed at the big Cubs logo on his shirt.

Stefan restrained himself from pointing out the other similarly attired diners and instead said, “Yeah, that was me.”

As he took a seat, a waitress set down a plate of pancakes topped with whipped cream and strawberries.

“Thanks, hon,” Grove said, before picking up his fork to dig in.

“Can I get you something?” the waitress asked Stefan.

“Coffee,” he said.

“Nothing to eat?”

“I’m good.”

She gave him a to-each-his-own shrug and walked off.

“Hope you don’t mind that I started without you,” Grove said between chews.

“I was starving.”

“I see that,” Stefan said.

Grove finished off what was in his mouth, took a sip of his coffee, and then said, “So, what can Grove do for you?”

Stefan looked around.

All the tables were filled.

“I’m not sure this is the right place to talk about it,” he whispered.

Grove waved his fork in the air.

“It’s fine. We’re just two guys shooting the breeze.”

Stefan frowned.

Then, leaning forward, he said, “I have a message I need delivered to someone.”

“I hear FedEx is good for that.”

Stefan didn’t even try to keep the annoyance off his face.

“The type of message I’m talking about needs to be delivered in person .”

“Calm down, buddy,” Grove said.

“I was just messing with you. What kind of message are we talking about?”

“I’m not sure I know what you mean.”

“There are all kinds of messages. A guy does something you’re not happy about but not irate, you send an ‘I didn’t appreciate that’ message. Get me? Maybe someone’s trying to steal your business or maybe your girl. In that case, you send an ‘I know what you’re doing and don’t do it again’ message.”

“The latter.”

“So, a message you’re expecting the receiver to comply with.”

“Exactly.”

“How much?”

“How much what?”

“How much do you want him to understand? Are we talking sleep it off at home understanding? Or a couple days in the hospital understanding?”

“Again, number two.”

“When does this need to happen?”

“As soon as possible.”

Grove took another bite of his pancakes.

Chewing, he said, “Depending on logistics, I could probably squeeze it in before the weekend. That soon enough?”

“That would work. Thank you.”

“I need a name, address, and three grand.”

“Three?” The job in New York had cost him twenty-five hundred.

He’d expected Chicago to be cheaper.

Grove shrugged.

“It’s my price. You don’t like it, find someone else.”

Stefan had been living off the money he’d made from selling the house he’d inherited from his mother.

He still had about a hundred thousand left, but he’d burn through that fast at prices like this.

Then again, money would no longer be a problem when he and Sara were back together.

“Fine. How do you want it?”

Grove handed Stefan a business card that read:

Grove’s Elite Furnishings

Rudy Grove, President

We accept PayPal, Venmo, and Zelle

Stefan pulled out his phone and initiated payment.