Infernal

4

As much as Jack liked to walk and enjoyed cooler weather, it felt good to step into the hotel lobby.

"When's check-out?"

Tom hesitated, a look of uncertainty flitting over his face.

"Wait here while I find out."

Jack didn't see why he shouldn't accompany him to the registration desk, but didn't argue. As he stood alone in the virtually deserted lobby, a wave of sadness swept over him.

Had things gone as planned, had the fucking Wrath of Allah stayed home, he and Dad would have been roaming the town, knee-deep in Jack's cool-building tour. They'd have seen the old Pythian Club and the Masons-built Level Club on West 70th by now, and would be heading toward 57th where he could show him the Hearst Magazine Building. Jack had a whole list of Manhattan buildings he loved. He'd looked forward to sharing them with his father. Now…

He felt his throat constrict.

Shit. Shit-shit-shit!

Tom's voice drew him back to the here and now.

"I'm going to stay another night."

"What?"

"I just checked to see if I could extend my stay and they said no problem. Seems the hotel's practically deserted. New York, it appears, has suddenly lost its cachet as a destination city."

"But why are you staying?"

Tom shrugged. "I don't know. Just feel I should. Then I can drive down to Johnson with you tomorrow."

Oh, hell.

"Why do you assume I have a car?"

Tom looked surprised. "The Phantom Joyrider doesn't own a set of wheels? I don't believe it."

"Lots of New Yorkers are wheelless. A car is more of a hassle—an expensive one—than a convenience in a city like this."

"But that doesn't answer the question: Do you own a car?"

"Yes."

Abe was going to drive him out to La Guardia this afternoon. They'd switch tickets and then drive out. As a recent arrival—he'd say he'd just dropped someone off—he'd be under less scrutiny.

"Are you driving down to make arrangements for the wake tomorrow?"

"Yes."

"Can I hitch a ride?"

How could he say no?

"Of course you can."

Tom gave him a tight smile. "There. Wasn't that easy?"

"But what about your wife—wives—and kids? Aren't they coming?"

"Sure. I'll hook up with them at the wake."

Jack couldn't see any way out of this. Even if Tom was his only living relative, an hour and a half cooped up with him in a car…

And then he had an awful thought. Gia and Vicky were planning on going—Gia was adamant about this—and that meant they'd be exposed to Tom.

"You should know that I'll have a couple of other people along."

Tom's eyebrows rose. "Is that so? Who, pray tell?"

"A woman I know and her daughter."

He grinned. "So, there's a woman in Jack's life. I can't wait to meet her." He snapped his fingers. "Hey! I've got an idea. Why don't I buy you two dinner tonight?"

"We've already got plans."

"Well, if they include dinner, I'm buying." He jerked his thumb over his shoulder at the hotel restaurant. "Right here."

He'd planned on it being just Gia and Jack tonight, but couldn't see a way out of this.

"Okay. But not here."

"Why not? It's excellent. I ate there last night and—"

"Sorry. We've got reservations at Lucille's tonight."

"So? Break them."

"Can't."

Jack didn't understand Tom's wistful look as he glanced toward the entrance of Joe O's.

"It'll be so easy. I'll just charge it to my room and—"

"Yeah, but the problem is I know the guy who's playing Lucille's tonight. He asked me to come down and listen, fill a couple of seats for him."

Actually the singer, Jesse Roy Bighead DuBois, had told Jack he'd have a surprise for him if he showed. Wouldn't say what, but he'd piqued Jack's curiosity.

But with all that had happened, Jack had forgotten about Jesse and his gig. When Gia had reminded him this morning, telling him she'd call and cancel their reservation if he wanted, his first impulse had been to say yes. But when he considered his other options, sitting with Gia and listening to some blues while having dinner didn't seem like a bad thing. After all, it was the blues.

Tom frowned. "Playing what?"

"He fronts a blues band. Of course if you don't like blues—"

Hope-hope-hope.

"I'm a blues aficionado. Count me in."

Jack repressed a sigh.

But then, maybe it wasn't right to leave his only sib alone two nights in a row.

Or was it?