'Surprised?' Grace said to Jack, without looking at him. When he didn't respond, she said, 'I told you. Everyone's got secrets. This used to be one of mine.'
'Used to be?'
'Mmm-mmm. I'm a working stiff now. We fast-trackers can't do this kind of thing anymore.'
'I feel like I walked into some twisted version of the sixties. Or a bad Sammy Davis movie.'
'Hey, drugs are big again. Coke, heroin, they're back. Even speed. You can't keep a good thing down.'
'Kid used to come here?'
'I know he was here once. I brought him. I don't know if he came back, but he liked it, so he might've. I thought it was worth a try.' She indicated the bartenders. 'They seem like his type.'
'Did he do this stuff?'
She shook her head. 'The drugs? Are you kidding? Mr. Healthy Body? But he liked being around this kind of place. He thought it was exciting.'
Yes, Jack thought. Christ Almighty, it was exciting. It felt sordid and wrong but it stank of danger and eroticism and Jack could already feel the atmosphere and the music seep inside his blood. He could feel his heart pumping faster and his head start to throb. It was light-years away from the confines of his restaurant, even farther from the isolation of his apartment, and it frightened him. But it was exhilarating. The same way the flash of thigh from the Mortician had been exhilarating. And the moment when the Entertainer had straddled him in her apartment. And…
He looked over at the Destination. At Grace Childress. She was watching him.
'I guess you and Kid have more in common than you thought,' was all she said.
They stayed an hour, gradually drawing both bartenders into conversations. Neither of them were would-be singers. Neither of them knew Kid. And this time, when Jack took Grace's hand to lift her off the barstool and head her back to the street, that hand dug into his while her other hand lightly touched his back, and he felt his breath come hard now and heavy.
They went to two more clubs, the last one a place called Meyer's, down on the Lower East Side. It was the one Bryan had told Jack about, saying it was one of Kid's main hangouts. Both spots were dark and dominated by pulsating music, both filled with hard bodies and a sense of sexual urgency. But in neither could they find any substantive connection to Kid nor any indication that they might find the next Slash on Kid's team, Samsonite.
It was five-thirty in the morning when Jack brought Grace back to her apartment. She stepped out of the taxi, and by her lack of hesitation it was clear she expected him to get out as well. She sat down on the top step of the three-step landing that led to her building and said, 'I'm sorry this didn't lead anywhere.'
'It takes time. It's not a TV show where everything comes easy and works out perfectly first time around.'
'Jack,' she said. 'Are you sure you want to do this?'
'Is there some reason I shouldn't?'
'Do you trust me?' she asked.
'Not entirely,' he answered. 'But mostly, yes.'
'I was about to ask you up to my apartment. I was hoping for something a bit more positive.'
'Do you trust me?' Jack asked.
'Yes,' she said. 'I do.'
'Then tell me what Kid told you. Tell me the things that frightened you.'
'God, I wish I still smoked. Or still did coke. What are you going to do with your purchase, by the way?'
Jack felt in his pocket, surprised, and pulled out the small packet of cocaine he'd purchased. He took several strides to a wire trash basket on the corner and tossed it in. Then he came back to stand inches away from Grace. She was staring at the trash can longingly.
'It's hard for me to describe. Yes, what he told me did frighten me. But partly because he was frightened. For himself and, I think, for you, too.'
'Why would he be frightened for me?'
'I don't know. He was vague, he couldn't really explain. This might sound crazy but I had the feeling he wanted me to know certain things in case… in case you found me. I don't know how else to explain it. I got the feeling that there was something going on that had been going on a long time. For years. And I think he felt responsible for certain things, people getting hurt.' She hesitated. 'Maybe even getting killed.'
'What people?' Jack asked very quietly.
'I don't know. I just know he seemed to feel some special connection to you. And it had something to do with the fact that bad things had happened to people around him. People he loved.'
'I know what he means,' Jack said.
'He didn't mention you by name, I didn't even know your name, remember, but now I'm sure it was you he was talking about. And he seemed to think he was putting you in some kind of danger.'
'Why didn't you tell me this before?'
'Because I wasn't sure. I'm still not sure. But from talking to you, I just get a sense… it's a feeling I have, that's all. I can't be more specific.'
There was an awkward silence, not broken until Grace's awkward laugh. 'So now that I've put us both in the mood, do you want to come up to my apartment?'
'Yes,' he said.
She got up, walked toward the door of her building. She turned, realized he hadn't moved from the sidewalk. 'Are you coming up to my apartment?'
'No,' he said. And then: 'I'm not ready. I'd still feel like I'm cheating on my wife.'
She slowly walked back down to where he was standing. She put her hands on his shoulders, lifted herself up, and kissed him gently on the lips. When the kiss ended, Jack slowly put his hand up and caressed her cheek. Then he turned and started his walk home.
When he was not quite half a block away, she said, 'Be careful,' and, as the first rays of dawn began to lighten the sky, watched until he crossed the nearly deserted street and turned the corner.
– '-'-'WHY DIDN'T HE Stop?
Why was he still looking?
He'd been warned but he was still asking questions and getting closer and…
What difference did it make, why he was doing it? Reasons weren't important. Kid had his reasons and they were lies. Reasons were always lies. What mattered most was the heart.
The last words that Kid had heard were I love you.
What would be the last words Jack Keller would hear?
It was time to find out.
– '-'-'JACK WAS ASLEEP fifteen minutes after he walked into his apartment. And he'd been asleep all of ten minutes when the phone rang.
'Jack,' the voice on the other end said urgently, 'it's Grace. I figured it out. I can't believe I was so stupid. It was right in front of us the whole time.'
'What was?' Jack managed to say, his words thick with exhaustion.
'Can you meet me again tonight?' she asked.
'What are you talking about?' Jack said. 'What did you figure out?'
'Samsonite,' Grace gushed. 'I know how to find her.'
FORTY-THREE
They met at 1 a.m., as per Grace Childress's instructions. She would not tell him why she thought she'd found Samsonite, she would not elaborate on anything. She just told him to pick her up in a taxi and when he did, she directed the driver to head downtown on the FDR Drive.
Jack had spent much of the day sleeping. He had a steam shower in his bathroom and in the interval, when he was awake, he took three long steams. The heat and sweat were cathartic; by the time he was due to dress, his body had made a reasonable recovery. He ached, but he was used to aches. And he was stiff, but he had long ago overcome stiffness. This was something he had learned both from Kid and from the life he had led: it was possible
