Chapter 10 - The Invitation
Finding Maya the next day wasn't as difficult as I expected.
Armed with the investigator's notes and a better understanding of her routine, I waited outside the public computers at the Harold Washington Library on Thursday afternoon. When she walked out, I didn't pull up in the town car; I parked two blocks away and walked up to her on foot, holding a takeout container of hot gourmet soup from a local deli.
She stopped, eyeing the container with guarded curiosity.
“What’s this? A bribe?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.
“It’s lunch,” I replied simply, holding it out. “And an official invitation.”
Maya crossed her arms. “I told you, Mr. Harrison, I don't need charity—measured or unmeasured.”
“It’s not charity,” I said, looking her squarely in the eye. “Sophie wants to finish that math problem she started on the sidewalk. And my housekeeper, Mrs. Gable, makes a roast chicken that completely destroys any theory you have about institutional food.”
Maya stared at me for a long moment, reading my face for any hint of condescension or ulterior motives. Finding none, a slow, knowing smile finally cracked her defensive exterior.
“Roast chicken, huh?” she murmured, adjusting her duct-taped backpack strap. “Does Mrs. Gable make lemon meringue pie?”
“The best in Chicago,” I promised.
May you like
Maya gave a short, decisive nod, falling into step beside me on the concrete sidewalk.
“Alright, Mr. Harrison,” she said quietly. “Let’s go see what your spreadsheet looks like from the inside.”
