to his apartment with the little bottle in the front pocket of his jeans.
As he rode the bus uptown, he tried to figure what he should do next on the Grace Westphalen thing. He’d spent much of the morning tracking down and talking to a few more of his street contacts, but no leads. No one had heard a thing. He couldn't think of any new avenues at the moment.
Other thoughts pushed their way to the fore.
Kolabati again. She filled his mind. Why? As he tried to analyze it, he came to see that the sexual spell she’d cast on him last night was only a small part of it. More important was the realization that she knew who he was, knew how he made a living, and somehow was able to accept it.
No...accept wasn't the right word. It almost seemed as if she looked on his lifestyle as a perfectly natural way of living. One that she wouldn't mind for herself.
Jack knew he was on the rebound from Gia, knew he was vulnerable, especially to someone who appeared to be as open-minded as Kolabati. Almost against his will, he’d laid himself bare for her, and she’d found him...'honorable.”
She wasn't afraid of him.
He had to call her.
But first he had to call Gia. He owed her some sort of progress report, even with no progress. He dialed the Paton number as soon as he reached his apartment.
'Any word on Grace?' he said after Gia was called to the other end.
'No.' Her voice didn't seem nearly as cool as it had yesterday. Or was that just his imagination? 'I hope you've got some good news. We could use it around here.'
'Well...' Jack grimaced. He really wished he had something encouraging to tell her. He was almost tempted to make up something, but couldn't bring himself to do it. 'You know that stuff we thought was a laxative? It isn't.'
'What is it, then?'
'Nothing. A dead end.'
There was a pause on the other end, then, 'Where do you go from here?'
'I wait.'
'Nellie's already doing that. She doesn't need any help waiting.'
Her sarcasm stung.
'Look, Gia, I'm not a detective—'
'I'm well aware of that.'
'—and I never promised to do a Sherlock Holmes number on this. If there's a ransom note or something like that in the mail, I may be able to help. I've got people on the street keeping their ears open, but until something breaks...'
The silence on the other end of the line was nerve wracking.
'Sorry, Gia. That's all I can tell you now.'
'I'll tell Nellie. Good-bye, Jack.'
After a moment of deep breathing to calm himself, he dialed Kusum's number. A now-familiar female voice answered.
'Kolabati ?'
'Yes?'
'This is Jack.'
A gasp. 'Jack! I can't talk now. Kusum's coming. I'll call you later!' She took his phone number and then hung up.
Jack sat and looked at the wall in bewilderment. Idly, he pressed the replay button on his answering machine. His father's voice came out of the speaker.
This had all the makings of a very bad weekend.
5.
With trembling fingers, Kolabati pulled the jack clip from the back of the phone. Another minute or two from now and Jack's call would have ruined everything. She wanted no interruptions when she confronted Kusum. It was taking all her courage, but she intended to face her brother and wring the truth from him. She would need time to position him for her assault...time and concentration. He was a master dissembler and she would have to be as circumspect and as devious as he if she was going to trap him into the truth.
She’d even chosen her attire for maximum effect. Although she played neither well nor often, she found tennis clothes comfortable. She was dressed in a white sleeveless shirt and shorts set by Boast. She wore her necklace, of course, exposed through the fully open collar of her shirt. Much of her skin was exposed: another weapon against Kusum.
At the sound of the elevator door opening down the hall, the tension gathering since she’d seen him step from the taxi on the street below balled itself into a tight, hard knot in the pit of her stomach.
Oh, Kusum. Why does it have to be like this? Why can't you let it go?
As the key turned in the lock, she forced herself into an icy calm.
