CHAPTER 7
THE FACE ON CAMERA
Adrian did not make Mara wait long.
He returned to the table, picked up her laptop bag, and nodded toward the door.
"We're leaving."
Mara closed her laptop.
"That man?"
"I don't know."
"You said that already."
"And it remains true."
She stood.
Lena had gone to the studio earlier to collect equipment, so it was just the two of them now.
Mara followed Adrian outside.
The rain had thickened.
She pulled her coat tighter as they crossed the sidewalk.
"Where are we going?"
"My office."
"Your office?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"I want to show you something."
That answer was not reassuring.
"That's vague."
"I know."
They reached the car.
Adrian opened her door.
Mara got inside.
He walked around to the driver's side.
The moment the doors locked, Mara noticed his attention change.
He wasn't looking at her anymore.
He was studying the mirrors.
"Is someone following us?"
"Maybe."
She turned in her seat.
"I thought you said you didn't know."
"I don't."
"Then why are you driving like that?"
"Because I'd rather be wrong."
He pulled away from the curb.
They drove for several blocks without speaking.
Mara watched the streets through the rain-streaked window.
The city moved around them.
A bus hissed at a stop.
A cyclist passed beneath an awning.
Pedestrians hurried through crosswalks.
Nothing looked unusual.
Mara kept checking the mirrors anyway.
After several turns, Adrian said, "Don't look behind us."
She immediately looked at him.
"Why?"
"Because if someone is watching you, I don't want them to know you noticed."
She faced forward.
"You're very good at making ordinary things terrifying."
"I'm not trying to."
"That's worse."
His mouth moved slightly.
Almost a smile.
Mara noticed.
She shouldn't have.
She did anyway.
They entered an underground garage beneath a nondescript office building.
Adrian parked beside a concrete pillar.
"Stay close."
"How close?"
"Close enough that I can see you."
She raised an eyebrow.
"That's not a distance."
"It is for me."
They entered the elevator.
Adrian pressed the top floor.
The doors closed.
Mara glanced at him.
"You have an office."
"Yes."
"Do you have a desk?"
"Several."
"Coffee?"
"Always."
"Then maybe your job isn't so terrible."
"It has advantages."
"Such as?"
"People generally listen when I tell them to leave."
She laughed.
The elevator opened.
His office was nothing like the secured apartment.
This space looked lived in.
Functional.
Dark wood.
Glass.
Monitors.
Security maps.
Multiple screens displaying camera feeds.
A long conference table held folders, tablets, and printed photographs.
There were no decorative touches beyond a small shelf containing several old books and a mechanical watch disassembled on a cloth.
Mara stopped.
"You actually repair watches."
Adrian looked at her.
"I told you."
"I thought you were making it up."
"I don't make things up."
She smiled.
"Right."
He walked toward the monitors.
"Come here."
Mara followed.
One screen showed the exterior of her apartment building.
Another showed the lobby.
Another showed the garage.
Another showed the street.
Adrian pulled up a recording.
"Yesterday."
The screen showed Mara leaving her apartment.
She watched herself walk toward the curb.
At first, nothing seemed unusual.
Then Adrian paused the footage.
"Look across the street."
Mara leaned closer.
A man stood near a parked car.
His face was partially hidden.
"Who is that?"
"I don't know."
He advanced the footage.
The man remained.
Then Mara left.
Adrian changed the timestamp.
The same man appeared the following morning.
Different position.
Same area.
Mara's stomach tightened.
"He was there both days."
"Yes."
"How long?"
"First appearance was seventeen minutes before you left."
"Seventeen."
"Yes."
"That's too long to be coincidence."
"Probably."
She turned toward him.
"Probably?"
"I don't call something deliberate until I can prove it."
"You're impossible."
"I know."
He pulled up another angle.
The man's face became clearer.
Mara stared.
"That's him."
"You're sure?"
"The coffee shop."
Adrian nodded.
"That's what I thought."
He zoomed in.
The man's face filled the screen.
Mid-thirties.
Dark hair.
Trim beard.
Gray jacket.
No obvious distinguishing features.
Mara felt a strange pressure behind her ribs.
"He followed us."
"Possibly."
"Stop saying possibly."
"I'll stop when you stop assuming."
She folded her arms.
"Fine."
He looked at the screen.
"This is where it gets interesting."
He opened another file.
A map appeared.
Red dots marked locations across Chicago.
Mara stared.
"What is that?"
"Your routine."
She looked at him.
"You mapped me?"
"Your movements over the past three weeks."
Her eyebrows shot up.
"Three weeks?"
"Yes."
"How?"
"Public information, your podcast schedule, social media posts, building cameras, publicly visible events."
Mara stared at the map.
River North.
The studio.
Restaurants.
Coffee shops.
A bookstore.
Her mother's neighborhood.
She felt exposed.
"That's horrifying."
"It is."
"You could track anyone like this?"
"With enough information, yes."
She looked at the dots again.
"How did you know about some of these places?"
"You posted photographs."
"I post pictures of coffee."
"Exactly."
She rubbed her forehead.
"So what you're saying is that I've been giving strangers a map."
"Not intentionally."
"That doesn't make me feel better."
"It should make you more careful."
She turned toward him.
"Do you ever say anything comforting?"
"Yes."
"What?"
"You're here."
She looked at him.
"What?"
"You're here. You're safe."
The simplicity of it caught her off guard.
She looked away.
"Thanks."
He didn't respond.
Instead, he opened another file.
"There's more."
Mara moved closer.
A list appeared.
Her name.
Her apartment.
The studio.
Her car.
Her mother's address.
Her favorite coffee shop.
Her regular routes.
Her usual recording schedule.
Mara went still.
"Where did you get that?"
"We didn't."
She looked at him.
"What?"
"This isn't our data."
He pointed to the screen.
"Someone else compiled it."
Mara felt cold.
"How do you know?"
"The formatting."
She leaned closer.
"What does that mean?"
"Professional intelligence gathering."
"Like yours?"
"Similar."
She stared at the screen.
Someone had done the same work Adrian had done.
Someone had studied her.
Not casually.
Systematically.
Her routines.
Her habits.
Her relationships.
Her vulnerabilities.
"Why?"
Adrian's eyes stayed on the monitor.
"That's what we're trying to determine."
Mara swallowed.
"Could it be Voss?"
"Possibly."
She glared at him.
He glanced over.
"Sorry."
She almost laughed.
"You're learning."
"I try."
He opened another recording.
This one came from the studio.
Mara watched herself arrive the previous afternoon.
Then the screen shifted.
A man entered the building.
Not the same man.
Different.
He walked past the security desk.
Stopped.
Looked directly at the camera.
Then continued.
Mara frowned.
"Who is that?"
"I don't know."
"Another watcher?"
"Maybe."
She looked at him.
He sighed.
"Yes."
She rubbed her arms.
The room suddenly felt colder.
"There are two."
"At least."
She stared at him.
"At least?"
"We have three unidentified individuals connected to your movements."
Her mouth went dry.
"Three?"
He nodded.
"That's why you're not going home alone."
She looked at the map again.
For months, Mara had thought she was investigating people.
Now she understood that someone had been investigating her.
The realization sat heavily.
She walked toward the window.
Chicago stretched below them.
From this high up, everything looked distant.
Safe.
Almost harmless.
"What happens now?"
"We figure out who is coordinating this."
"And then?"
"We stop them."
She turned.
"How?"
"By finding the source."
"You make it sound easy."
"It's not."
"Then why do you sound calm?"
"Because panic doesn't improve security."
She looked at him.
"What does?"
"Information."
He walked toward the conference table.
Mara followed.
"Then give me information."
He looked at her.
She waited.
He pulled out a chair.
"Sit."
She sat.
Adrian opened a folder.
"The person watching you has access to information they shouldn't have."
"Because they know my schedule."
"More than that."
He showed her a printed document.
It was her apartment building's visitor log.
Her name appeared repeatedly.
Her mother's name appeared once.
Lena's name appeared twice.
Mara looked up.
"How did they get this?"
"That's the question."
"Could someone in the building have sold it?"
"Yes."
"Could they have hacked it?"
"Yes."
"Could someone working for Voss have access?"
"Yes."
She sighed.
"You really need new vocabulary."
He almost smiled.
Then his phone vibrated.
He checked it.
Marcus.
Adrian answered.
"Tell me."
Mara watched his expression.
It changed as he listened.
His shoulders tightened.
His gaze moved toward her.
"How sure?"
A pause.
"Understood."
He ended the call.
Mara stood.
"What?"
"Marcus found something."
"What?"
"The vehicle from your building."
"The SUV?"
"Yes."
"Where?"
"Three blocks from here."
Her stomach dropped.
"Here?"
Adrian nodded.
He grabbed his coat.
"Come on."
They left the office.
The elevator descended.
Mara stayed beside him.
She could feel how controlled he was.
But she had learned enough about him to see the small signs.
The tightness around his mouth.
The way his fingers flexed once before going still.
The faster pace.
He was worried.
Not about the case.
About her.
They reached the garage.
Marcus was waiting beside a black SUV.
He was tall, relaxed-looking, with dark hair and an expression that suggested he had been born incapable of taking anything too seriously.
He held up a tablet.
"Got him."
Adrian approached.
"Show me."
Marcus tapped the screen.
The image appeared.
The same man from the apartment.
Mara recognized him immediately.
Marcus pointed to another frame.
"He's been around her building four times."
Adrian's expression hardened.
"Four?"
"Four that we caught."
Mara stared at the screen.
Marcus looked at her.
"You must be Mara."
She nodded.
He smiled.
"Marcus Reed."
"I've heard about you."
Adrian glanced at him.
"You have?"
"From Lena."
Marcus grinned.
"Ah."
Mara looked between them.
"Don't."
"I didn't say anything."
"You were about to."
Marcus lifted his hands.
"Noted."
Adrian took the tablet.
"How did you identify the vehicle?"
"Plate was obscured, but the make and damage pattern matched footage from two locations."
"Owner?"
"Not yet."
Adrian nodded.
Mara looked at the image again.
The man wasn't looking at the camera.
He was looking toward something outside the frame.
Adrian noticed.
"What?"
Mara pointed.
"That's not what he's watching."
Adrian looked closer.
"What do you mean?"
"He's looking past the building."
"At what?"
She studied the image.
"Me."
Adrian's gaze shifted to her.
Mara pointed again.
"He knows where I stand."
The garage seemed suddenly silent.
Adrian lowered the tablet.
He looked at her.
"You should be scared."
Mara swallowed.
"I am."
He stepped closer.
His voice softened.
"But you don't have to handle it alone."
She looked at him.
For once, she didn't argue.
She simply nodded.
Later, back in his office, Mara sat on the sofa while Adrian reviewed the footage.
She was exhausted.
At some point, she closed her eyes.
She didn't remember deciding to sleep.
She only remembered the warmth of something heavy settling over her.
She opened her eyes slightly.
Adrian's coat covered her.
He was sitting at the desk.
Working.
The city outside had gone dark.
Mara closed her eyes again.
For the first time in days, she let herself rest.
And when she woke, Adrian was still there.