He reached past Gia and ratcheted the hot water handle up another notch. The temperature in the shower seemed to have dropped a few degrees.
8
After arranging with Gia to give Vicky a little coaching on baseball later in the afternoon, Jack returned to the hotel. As he entered he thought he sensed the tension building in the atmosphere again. He looked around for Roma—Want to ask you a question or two, pal—but didn't see him. When he reached the second floor he spotted a Mutt and Jeff pair standing in the common area outside the meeting rooms: Lew and Evelyn. He headed their way.
Evelyn was anxiously rubbing her tiny, pudgy Little Lotta hands together. She looked upset.
"Something wrong?"
"We still haven't found Olive?" she said. "No one's seen her since the reception last night? I'm getting worried?"
"You've checked her room?
Lew said, "I've called, I've knocked. There's no answer."
"Maybe you should get the hotel to open it, just to make sure she's not in there in a coma or something," Jack said.
Evelyn's hand fluttered to her mouth. "Do you really think so? I never thought of that? But what if she just forgot? And she's out sightseeing or something? How will she feel when she finds out we've been searching her room?"
In any other case, Jack thought, the person in question probably would be touched by their concern. With this crew…it would all seem part of a sinister scheme.
"I think you've got to risk it."
Evelyn glanced at her watch. "I'll give her another hour? If I don't hear from her by then? I'm going to go to the management? I'll have them check? How does that sound?"
"Sounds like a plan," Jack said.
As Evelyn bustled away, Lew turned to Jack. "And I think I'll head back home for a while."
"All the way to Shoreham?"
"Yeah. I want to check and see if Mel might've come back, maybe left me a note or something," He blinked away tears. "First Mel, now Olive. I'm really scared. Anything new?"
"Nothing definite," Jack said, and saw Lew's face fall. "But maybe you can clear up something for me."
"Sure. Anything."
"Olive mentioned that Melanie had given her a set of computer disks. Why would Melanie do that?"
He shook his head. "I can't imagine. They weren't that close."
"Think she's making it up?"
"I couldn't say for sure. Maybe Olive is trying to make herself sound important. Or maybe Melanie did give them to her for safekeeping—you know, after she wiped out her GUT file. Perhaps she figured no one would think of Olive since she's a computerphobe."
"It's a thought," Jack said. "When Melanie shows up, we'll ask her."
"If she shows up." Lew took a deep, sighing breath. "I'll see you later," he said and walked off.
Jack decided to check his messages, then try to catch one of these panels…the elusive Miles Kenway was scheduled to moderate the next one. Jack wanted to get a line on him.
As he was heading for the lobby he noticed the red-haired guy sitting in his wheelchair in a doorway, staring at him again, just like last night. The intensity of the scrutiny bothered him.
What's so damn interesting? he wondered.
He used his calling card to check his voice mail. Just his father…again.
Okay, time to bite the bullet and call him. He found the number in his wallet and punched it in. He'd moved way down in Florida, someplace near Coral Gables with the Everglades practically in his backyard.
Dad was in. They made a little small talk—he always made sure you knew how nice and warm the weather was down there—then Jack got to the point.
"Are your travel plans pretty well set?"
"Yes," Dad said. "I've got my tickets and everything."
"Gee, that's too bad, because I'm going on a cruise for a couple of weeks and it falls right in the time you'll be up here."
A long silence on the Florida end of the line, during which hurt seeped through the receiver. Jack felt ropes of guilty perspiration begin to trickle down his face. Obviously Dad was trying to get closer to his wayward son in his sunset years, and Jack was giving him the cold shoulder.
I'm such a coward, he thought. A lousy lying coward.
Finally: "Cruise?" Dad said. "Where to?"
Oh, shit—where? "Alaska."
"Really? I've always wanted to cruise to Alaska, see those glaciers and all. I wish you'd said something. I would have gone with you. Maybe I can still arrange something."
Oh no! "Gee, Dad. It's fully booked."
Another long silence.
Not only am I a lousy lying coward, I'm a rat.
"You know, Jack," Dad finally said, "I realize you may not want me in your life, or that there may be aspects of your life you don't want me to know about…but—"
Jack went cold. "What…what do you mean?"
"Look, Jack, if you're…if you're g-gay"—he seemed to have trouble getting the word past his lips—"or something like that, it's okay. I can accept it. You're still my son."
Jack sagged against the phone. Gay? Is that the worst he can think of?
"No, Dad. Guys don't do a thing for me. In fact, I can't understand what women see in them. I like women. Always have, always will."
"Really?" Jack could hear the relief in his voice. "Well, then why—?"
"I won't be around, really."
"Okay. I'll buy that. But you did say you'd come down for a visit, right? When's that going to be? Let's set a date."
"I can't set a date right now, but"…he couldn't turn him down cold again…"I promise I'll get there before the year is out. How's that?"
"Okay! It's a deal!"
He kept Jack on for a few more minutes of small talk, then let him go. Jack hung up and simply stood there, recouping his strength. He'd rather face any number of enraged monte grifters than a phone conversation with his father.
He banged his fist against the wall. What did I just do? I promised to visit him, and I locked in a time frame: before the end of the year. Am I crazy?
He hated to travel anywhere, but…guilt springs eternal.
He was stuck. He'd promised.
Jack decided to go back to his room. He needed a rest.
9
Salvatore Roma sat staring at his room's TV, but was only vaguely aware of what was on the screen—a talk show featuring a panel of bizarrely coifed and accessorized males and females bemoaning their treatment by conventional society. His mind was elsewhere, imagining the near future, and the changes he would bring to this world. He smiled at the screen: You whine about your troubles now? Wait…just wait.
An insistent scratching at the door wrenched him back to the present. He pulled it open and Mauricio scampered in.
"I found it," he said, hopping onto the bed.
"It took you long enough."
"I could only get into the rooms when the maids entered for cleaning. I'd still be running around with no answer if I hadn't staked out one room for special attention."
Roma felt his fists clench of their own accord. "The stranger."
"Yes! The mysterious Jack Shelby. The delivery is sitting under the counter in his bathroom."
Roma squeezed his eyes shut. "Opened?"
"Yes, but I saw no sign that he'd attempted to assemble it."
"Not that it would matter. It is incomplete. And even after the rest of it arrives—"
"Let's just hope he hasn't damaged it or lost some crucial component. I think we should reclaim it as soon as possible."
"I disagree," Roma said. "Not with the Twins here. Besides, we have too many unanswered questions. Why did the delivery arrive in his room instead of the basement as planned? Was that his doing, or was it redirected from the other side? Who is this man?"