Final Option

basketball fan and he’s promised to take her to the Bulls game that night. They’re playing the Lakers, and he’s got half court seats on the floor. Unfortunately, he’s got to go to Washington at the last minute to do some lobbying for the exchange. Would I fill in for him?
    “Now of course, any idiot would be wondering why this girl has no friends to ask, why Hexter is collaring strangers in the elevator to take his kid to the game, but like I said, I was hot to get into the pit at the opening, and Hexter is—was—one of the most powerful men at the Board....”
    “So you took Margot to the Bulls game.”
    “And lived to tell about it. It turns out she hates basketball. She didn’t even know whether it was the Bulls or the Lakers that played for Chicago. Her dad had badgered her into saying that she’d go. Now she’s standing at the door of her apartment looking at some guy she doesn’t know from Adam. I didn’t know what to do. Finally, I think, I stammered out some suggestion that we give the tickets away and just go and have dinner somewhere, but then she says, just like that: ‘No, Daddy would be mad if I didn’t go.’ And she went and got her coat.”
    “And did you end up having a good time?” I asked.
    “From the minute she got into my car to the minute I dropped her off at her apartment she didn’t say one word to me. She just sat there with this pained look on her face and ignored me. The next day, when I started telling guys in the break room about it, I found out I was not the only participant in the Margot Hexter dating Olympics. One guy told me that Bart had set him up for a dinner date with Margot, but when he got to the restaurant he found Margot waiting for him in the bar in a long black negligee and a pair of heels. At first, he’s too embarrassed to say anything, but finally, she asks him whether he likes what she’s wearing. He answers that it’s a little unusual. ‘Well,’ she answers, ‘I just figured that since my dad is acting like a pimp, I should at least oblige him by dressing like a whore.’ The girl is a fun date.
    “The worst part is that after the basketball game, Hexter kept on calling me to ask when Margot and I were going out again. It was completely bizarre.”
    The bartender slid the telephone down the bar toward us.
    “Kate Millholland?” he asked.
    “Yes,” I replied.
    “Phone call for you.” I thanked him and picked up the receiver.
    “Kate? Is that you?” asked Claudia, her voice constricted with emotion. “Cheryl said I might catch you.”
    “What’s wrong?” I demanded, instantly panicked.
    “I’m at home. The building superintendent called me. The place is swarming with cops. They say they have a search warrant for the apartment.”
     

CHAPTER 9
     
    There were police cars parked two deep in front of my apartment, slowing the normally sluggish Hyde Park traffic to a chaotic trickle. Horns honked. Tempers flared. By the time I was out of my car my emotions were running too high for me to label them. I was angry, aggravated, and afraid. I bounded up the wide stone steps of my building, brushing past the Polish janitor and his friends who had gathered on the stoop to exclaim over the goings-on.
    The front door of my apartment stood ajar. I pushed it open and marched in to find Detective Ruskowski and a couple of policemen joking in the front hall. Beyond them, 5' and blocking all corners, stood my roommate, arms crossed across her chest.
    “Detective Ruskowski,” I said, sounding less calm than I would have liked, “what an unpleasant surprise. I assume you have a warrant.”
    “Here’s your copy,” he replied, his freckled face splitting into something that resembled a grin. “I was pretty sure you’d want to see it.” He reached into his pocket and handed it to me.
    “You must like playing hardball,” I said, taking the warrant from his hand. “If you’d asked me nicely, I would have gladly submitted to a voluntary search.“
    “That's pretty easy for you to say now. Besides, I don’t know how to ask nicely. But if you think this is hardball, you haven’t seen anything yet. This is the velvet-glove treatment that we give to the stuck-up daughters of influential Lake Forest families. I could have come in here and taken the place apart already, but the city is afraid of pissing your folks off. Besides,” he nodded in Claudia’s direction, “this little vixen threatened all sorts of terrible things if we didn’t