the phone at Jack's request. He waited with a curious mixture of dread and anticipation.
'Hello?' Her voice was cool, businesslike.
'How'd things go last night?'
'That's none of your business, Jack!' she said, her voice rising in anger. 'What right have you got to pry into —'
'Hey!' he said. 'I just want to know if there's been any ransom note or phone calls or any word from Grace! What the hell's the matter with you?'
'Oh...sorry. Nothing. No word at all. Nellie's really down. Got any good news I can tell her?'
'Afraid not.'
'Are you doing anything?'
'Yeah.'
'What?'
'Detective stuff. You know, tracing clues, following up leads. That kind of thing.'
Gia made no reply. Her silence was eloquent enough. And she was right; wisecracks were out of place.
'I don't have much to go on, Gia, but I'll be doing what ever can be done.'
'I don't suppose we can ask for more than that,' she said finally, her voice as cool as ever.
'How about lunch today?'
'No, Jack.'
'A late dinner, then?'
'Jack...' The pause here was long; it ended with a sigh. 'Let's just keep this businesslike, okay? Just business. Nothing has changed. Any lunches you want to have, you have them with Nellie. Maybe I'll come along, but don't count on it. Capisce?'
'Yeah.'
He fought an urge to rip the phone out of the wall and hurl it out the nearest window. But he made himself sit there, say a polite good-bye, hang up, and place the phone gently on the table, right where it belonged.
He forcefully removed Gia from his thoughts. He had things to do.
2
Gia put down the phone and leaned against the wall. She’d almost made a fool out of herself a moment ago when Jack had asked her how things had gone last night. She'd suddenly had a vision of him tailing her and Carl to the restaurant and from the restaurant to Carl's place.
They’d made love for the first time last night. She hadn't wanted their relationship to get that far this soon. She’d promised herself to take this one slow, to refuse to rush or to be rushed. After all, look what had happened with Jack. But last night she’d changed her mind. Tension had been building in her all day since seeing Jack, building until she’d felt it was going to strangle her. She’d needed someone. And Carl was there. And he wanted her very much.
In the past she’d gently refused his invitations back to his place. But last night she’d agreed. Everything had been right. The view of the city from his windows had been breathtaking, the brandy smooth and burning in her throat, the lighting in his bedroom so soft it had made her bare skin glow when he’d undressed her, making her feel beautiful.
Carl was a good lover, a patient, skilled, gentle, considerate lover.
But nothing happened last night. She’d faked an orgasm in time with his. She didn't like herself for that, but it had seemed like the right thing to do at the time. Carl had done everything right. It wasn't his fault she hadn't even come close to the release she needed.
All Jack's fault.
Seeing him again had got her so uptight she couldn't have enjoyed Carl last night if he’d been the greatest lover in all the world. And he was certainly a better lover than Jack.
No...that wasn't true. Jack had been good. Very good. There had been times when they’d spent the whole night—
Nellie's front doorbell rang. Since Gia was passing by, she answered it.
A messenger from Carl to pick up the artwork she’d told him about last night. And something for her: a bouquet of mums and roses. She handed the messenger the artwork and opened the enclosed card as soon as the door was closed.
'What lovely flowers!'
Gia snapped alert at the sound of Nellie's voice.
'Yes, aren't they. From Carl. That was Jack on the phone, by the way. He wanted to know if there'd been any word.'
'Has he learned anything?'
Gia shook her head, pitying the almost childish eagerness in the old woman's face. 'He'll let us know as soon as he does.'
'Something awful has happened, I just know it.'
'You know nothing of the kind,' Gia said, putting her arm around Nellie's shoulders. 'This is probably all a big misunderstanding.
