The ten-dollar bill was gone from the table when I left that morning, but his seat at the banquet stayed empty.

Brenda came up next to me with her digital tablet resting on her hip.

She tapped her tablet pen twice on her palm and leaned in close to be heard over the noise of the room.

“He phoned the admin desk at seven to tell the receptionist he wasn’t driving into the Loop for catered chicken,” Brenda said.

“Did he leave a message for me?” I asked.

“Just that he expects you back in Oak Park before midnight,” Brenda said, her voice going soft and warm.