suspect I knew Jonah? Did he suspect Jonah knew more than he was admitting?
But Catcher stayed silent, keeping whatever suspicions he might have had to himself.
That's when I saw him - only a shadow at the edge of my eyesight at first, but then a distinguishable man standing across the street, one of his soldiers behind him.
It was McKetrick, dressed in black running pants and a black T-shirt. No obvious weapons, but with all the cops nearby, it was impossible to tell if he was carrying something concealed. He did have a small pair of binoculars in hand, and the man behind him scribbled in a small notebook. Apparently our friendly neighborhood anti-vampire militiaman was working a little recon tonight. He scanned the crowd, apparently unaware that I was nearby with a couple of vampire sympathizers. I can't imagine he'd have had anything pleasant to say about that.
I leaned toward Catcher. "Across the street on the corner. That's McKetrick and one of his goons."
With all the slickness of a CIA operative, Catcher pointed at a building in McKetrick's direction. "Did you know that building was created by a monkey that lived in the top of Tribune Tower?"
"I did not know that. A monkey, you say?"
"Fur, bananas, crap throwing, the whole bit."
He turned back again and stuffed his hands into his pockets. "Don't know the face. But he's in black, and he's got binoculars and an underling. Former military?"
"Given the way he was outfitted the other day, that was my guess. What do you think he's doing out here?"
"He probably has a police scanner," Catcher said, the grumble in his voice giving me all the info I needed about his opinion of them. "He probably heard the call and decided to come out and see what kind of trouble vamps were getting into tonight."
"Damn vampires," I muttered.
"Always getting into something," he agreed.
"Since he's focused on the vamps, I'll run a Chicago Shuffle and get eyes on him."
"Chicago Shuffle?"
"I'll head in the opposite direction and catch him from the back."
"Sure thing, boss," I said. "Just watch out for the brass and any dames with nice gams."
Catcher gave me a dark look. "Sometimes, I don't know why I bother."
"Because I'm awesome, and you supplanted me in my own home."
He smiled slyly. "That does lessen the sting. You keep an eye on him from here and give me a text if it looks like he's planning on joining in the fun."
"Will do."
Catcher pulled down his ball cap, then slunk into the darkness of the street in the opposite direction.
"Chicago Shuffle," I quietly murmured, just wanting to say the phrase aloud. I decided all future operations needed names as slick as that one.
Jeff popped back over as soon as Catcher disappeared. "Where's he off to?"
"We saw McKetrick - the vamp hater - across the street. Catcher went to gather some intel. What did you find out inside?"
"There're a lot of dopey vamps in there, and the cops aren't thrilled they're causing trouble in public. They're going to want to pin this on Cadogan, you know."
"I know. I'm not looking forward to talking to Ethan about it."
"I wouldn't be, either. The cops were talking to Chuck about calling Mayor Tate, advising him of what's up."
"Kind of a small-beans matter to bother the mayor with, isn't it?"
"Apparently not when vampires are involved."
He gestured toward the paparazzi, still snapping photos, now of the humans who'd been inside the bar.
"Not much we can do about it now," I said.
"But there is something you can do for me." I held up a hand before he could remind me about Fallon again. "And it's nothing prurient. But it will require your technological prowess."
"That's my second-favorite prowess."
"There's a camera at the back door of the bar. Can you check with Colin and find out if they're recording the video?"
"Will do. If I find it, what am I looking for?"
"Anything at all. Suspicious activity, drug kingpins, stuff like that."
"That's not very specific."
I patted him on the arm. "That's why I came to you, Jeff. Because you have mad skills. And keep an eye out for a short guy with dark hair. You find him, you get the big prize."
Jeff rocked back on his heels. "Define big prize."
It took me a moment to imagine a prize that wouldn't get him in trouble with Fallon - or me in trouble with the North American Central Pack.
But Jeff was an all-American, red-blooded shifter, so I had an idea.
"I'll call my grandfather's favorite butcher and order his