“But you believe in what they’re doing.”
“Yeah, and it’ll get me killed eventually. You too, if you join up. Look, man, when this thing with Tim is over, just ride off into the sunset with Julia and enjoy the rest of your life. You’ve earned it.”
“I’m not joining up. I just want to understand—”
“No, brother. You only think you do. I’m telling you, you really don’t want to know what’s going on out there.” Pat stuffed some chips in his mouth and chewed. “Anyway, you want to hear the sales pitch, you gonna have to ask Ames. You won’t hear it from me. Next subject.”
There was no use pressing him. Daniel pulled the photograph from his back pocket and handed it to Pat. “He gave me this. Said you—”
“Holy shit.” Pat stopped chewing. “What exactly did he say?”
“He said this guy came in on a flight from Montreal yesterday, but they lost track of him this afternoon. And he said you’d tell me about him.”
“His name is Lucien Drapeau, and he is a very bad man.” Pat handed the photo back to Daniel. “Pretty safe guess he’s here to kill your uncle.”
“An assassin?”
“Best in the world, maybe. They say he’s a fanatic for precision, never misses. I’ve crossed paths with him a few times over the years, but we’ve never gone head to head.”
“But he plays for the other team,” said Daniel, “the Council for World Peace or whatever it is.”
Pat shook his head. “Lucien Drapeau doesn’t play for any team. He’s all about the money.” He pointed at the photo in Daniel’s hand. “You need to memorize that face. Note the details…”
Daniel looked hard at the face. Eyes very close together, square jaw, small ears, and a dome shaped like a bullet, with a ridge running from front to back, right in the middle.
“How tall?”
“A smidge taller than me. About six-four, I’d say.”
Daniel looked back to the face in the photograph. “Weird,” he said, “the guy’s got no eyebrows.”
“No hair at all,” said Pat, “anywhere on his body. He removes it.”
“Some kind of kink?”
“No, he’s just that committed to his craft. No hair, no DNA evidence trail. The man is uncompromising about his work.” Pat put the bag of potato chips down on the boxing ring. “With Drapeau in the game, our chances of keeping Tim alive just went from slim to very-fucking-slim indeed. Wish I could tell you different, but that’s the truth, Ruth.”
Julia called just after ten o’clock. “Got your messages,” she said. “All five of them. Sorry, it’s been a little hectic around here. What’s up?”
“Come have a drink with me,” said Daniel.
After a second of silence, she said, “That would be nice, really, but not tonight, Danny. We’ve got a big day tomorrow.”
“We’ve been having a lot of big days lately.” He could hear her laugh through the phone. It was a warm laugh. “Julia, I realize we’ve all got a lot on our plates right now, and tomorrow’s gonna be crazy. I just want to call a brief time-out, a couple of hours, just you and me and a bottle of wine.”
“Geez, it sounded a lot more fun when I thought of it as a date,” said Julia, a smile in her voice. “OK, tell me where you are and I’ll come over and drink your wine while you leave nothing unsaid.”
“Cut me a little slack, would ya? It’s been a while since I asked a girl out.”
When Daniel was eighteen, Father Henri let him have a key to the place so he could lock up or open the gym in the morning, and he’d brought Julia here a few times late at night to sit up on the roof and watch the world go by.
And now he was about to ask her to just forget about that. He would tell her that, this time, he would not run away chasing ghosts and dreams. He would tell her that, this time, she was his dream.
He would ask her to make that dream come true.
After she’d agreed to come over, he’d come to the roof and set up a couple of folding lawn chairs and a small table he took from the office, a portable radio, the wine, and two plastic cups.
And now she was here again, standing with him on the roof, the skyline of downtown New Orleans glittering behind her in the night, her black hair fluttering in the hot, thick summer breeze, her olive skin shimmering, slightly moist, a glass of red wine in her slender hand.
He was tongue-tied by this woman. He switched on the radio, tuned it to WWOZ. A jazz tune he didn’t know, but it was sultry and slow and perfect.
“Julia, I-I have so many things…” He searched for the right words. “I want a second chance with you. I have thought of you every day for the last fourteen years, and I want you back.”
She smiled and sipped her wine. “Every day?” she said.
“Well, not
Any answer—even
Waiting…his heart pounding out the seconds that passed in silence.
Waiting…and reminding himself to breathe.
Waiting…each second a lifetime.
Finally Julia approached with an expression he couldn’t read and put her palm flat on his chest and said, “OK, but you can’t just walk back into my life and claim me as your girlfriend. If we do this, we take it slow. We go out on dates. If we like it, we go on more dates. And who knows? Maybe it leads to a relationship. Maybe it leads to forever. But we don’t just pick up where we left off fourteen years ago. We start anew.”
Daniel clinked his plastic cup against hers. “I’ll drink to that.”
As they drank, the radio DJ said, “And this one goes out to all the broken-hearted lovers in the Crescent City. Leroy Jones, with
Daniel turned up the volume, put his wine down on the table. “Dance with me,” he said.
They danced, her hands behind his head, his hands on her waist. And as they danced, they kissed. Soft, inquisitive
Coming up for air, Julia said, “Wow.”
“Wow, indeed,” said Daniel.
She reached for her glass, drank some wine, and shared some with him from her mouth. “Can I ask you something?” she said.
He smiled and rolled his eyes. “Yes, I’ve really been celibate for fourteen years.”
“Gawd am I in trouble,” she laughed. She drank some more wine and they kissed again. “Say, do they still have that horrible yellow tartan fold-out couch in the office downstairs?”
They did.