Lew shook his head. 'I don't understand.'
'Neither do I. That's why I'm looking for him.'
Jack looked away. He didn't mention that his interest in Roma was of a more personal nature. Sure, Roma might know something about Melanie, but that wasn't the only reason now. Jack wanted to find out how much he knew about Jack, and how he knew it.
'Don't forget Frayne Canfield while you're at it,' Lew said. 'He and Mel were close. They shared a bond that excluded me.'
Jack looked at him now. Was that a hint of jealousy in Lew's voice?
'But I guess it's to be expected,' Lew went on. 'They grew up near each other in a small town, both disabled…' He shook his head. 'For a while there I suspected they might be having an affair, but…I realized I was wrong. Mel wouldn't do that to me.'
'By the way, what's wrong with his legs?'
'I don't know. I've never seen them…but Mel has.'
'How do you know?'
'Because I asked her just what you asked me. 'What's wrong with Frayne's legs?' She told me, 'You don't want to know.''
7
Jack spent the rest of the morning and some of the early afternoon looking for Roma, but man and monkey seemed to have vanished. No one at the hotel knew his whereabouts. He tried to listen to some of the El Nino panel but found it so lame he fled after a couple of minutes. It irked him that he could have been using the time to coach Vicky on her baseball basics.
Finally he went outside in search of a phone. A sunny spring Saturday greeted him. And what did New Yorkers do when the sky was bright and the air balmy? Without lawns to mow or gardens to weed, they were free to hit the streets. And today they were hitting with a vengeance—strolling, jogging, shopping, snacking, parents pushing baby carriages, couples in shorts and sun dresses walking arm in arm or hand in hand, kids chasing each other along the sidewalks.
An abundance of navels on display, many of them pierced.
And all these pretty girls with really ugly guys…almost as if they were dating outside their species. Then Jack wondered if people thought the same when they saw Gia with him. Probably.
The people-watching served only to make Jack long all the more to be with Gia and Vicky. But he knew that even if he'd already found Roma and finished questioning him, he'd probably be keeping to himself today.
He couldn't shake the feeling that Gia and Vicky might be safer if he stayed away.
He found a pay phone at the corner of Ninth and Fiftieth. A huge painting of the Toxic Avenger grinned at him from the side of the building half a block down the street where Troma Rims had its offices. He called Gia, cupping his hand over the buttons as he tapped in her number.
Dammit, he thought. Why don't I just become a card-carrying member of SESOUP? I'm becoming just like them.
Except I'm
Which was no doubt how Kenway and Zaleski saw themselves too.
What next? Start getting myself X-rayed for mind-control implants?
Jack could not remember ever feeling this spooked.
'Hey, it's me,' he said when Gia answered.
'You're late,' she said. 'Vicky's been waiting for you.'
He hated the thought of disappointing Vicky. 'I'm afraid I'm going to have to cancel out of baseball practice, Gia.'
He heard her sigh. 'You shouldn't have promised if you weren't sure you could make it.'
'I was sure I could get away for a couple of hours, but…'
'Tomorrow, then?'
'I don't think so. I—'
In the background he heard a little voice saying, '
'Hi, Jack!' Vicky said, and rattled on with her usual ebullience. 'How come you're not here yet? I've had my glove on since one o'clock and it's getting all sweaty inside while I've been waiting. When are you coming?'
The image she conjured tore at his heart.
'Uh, I'm, sorry, Vicks, but I have a job that's going to keep me away for a while. I'm really sorry, but—'
'You're not coming?' she said at about half her previous volume.
'I promise I'll make it up to you,' he said quickly. 'We'll have a nice long practice as soon as I can get away.'
'But tryouts are next week.'
Please, Vicks, he thought. Please understand.
'Vicks, I'll be there for you. I won't let you down. I promise.'
'Okay.' She was at quarter volume now. 'Bye.'
Jack leaned against the phone booth's shielding and stared at the pavement. An ant was crawling along the curb. He felt low enough to challenge it to a foot race.
'Really, Jack,' Gia said, her voice taking on a vague scolding tone, 'is what you're doing right now so all important that you can't come by and see her?'
'It's not that. It's just that I don't like the way things are going here.'
'Meaning?'
'I'm being followed.'
'By whom?'
'Not sure, and that's what worries me. I don't want them to know about you and Vicks, so I'm thinking it might be best for you two if I keep my distance until this job was finished.'
'Oh,' she said. 'And when will that be?'
'Real soon, I hope.'
Another sigh. 'Jack, when are you going to give this up?'
'Please, Gia. Not now. A pay phone on a crowded sidewalk in Hell's Kitchen is not where I want to discuss this.'
'You never want to discuss it.'
'Gia…'
'Don't you see what this Repairman Jack stuff does? It doesn't involve just you. It affects all of us. And now you're afraid to see us because of it.'
'I hate it when you're right.'
That seemed to mollify her. 'All right. To be continued. Please be careful, Jack.'
'Always. Love you.'
'Love you too.'
His insides roiling, Jack hung up and stood staring at the phone. Gia was right. He should be more careful with the kinds of jobs he took. He guessed this was the price of caring, of close attachments. None of it had entered the picture in his lone wolf days when he'd done his share of rough-and-tumble gigs. But now…what was worth disappointing Vicky—or possibly endangering her?
What irked him was that he'd been so darn choosy lately. This gig, for instance—a missing wife should have been a no-risk, no-sweat fix-it. How had everything spun so damn far out of control?
Sooner or later he was going to have to face it: He couldn't have it both ways. Some hard choices were coming.
But he couldn't think about that now.
He picked up the receiver as if he were about to make another call, then whirled—
—and startled a young woman waiting behind him.
She wore jeans and a chopped Orioles T-shirt, had buzz-cut hair, and at least a dozen rings in her left ear. She recovered quickly.
