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"Can I ask a question?" Gia said.

Tom grinned. "But of course, my dear."

"Why would you bother to bring this home? It looks like some ugly, oversized melon."

"It does, indeed, but I want to find out what it is. The quest for knowledge—what human urge is more noble?"

How about the urge to retch? Jack thought.

"Look, Mom!" Vicky was laughing and pointing at the dimple in the Lilitongue's surface. "It's got a belly button!"

"What a marvelous observation!" Tom said. "You really have an eye for detail!"

Gia said, "So now that you have it, what do you do with it?"

Jack started to say that was going to be Tom's problem, but his brother jumped in.

"Research! I'm sure we can find someone in this city who can shed some light on its identity."

It took a few seconds for the import of "in this city" to penetrate, but when it did…

"Whoa-whoa-whoa! What happened to Philadelphia—the Franklin Institute, the U of P…?"

Tom put on a sheepish, aw-shucks grin. "I was going to discuss this with you this morning, bro, but didn't get a chance before our lovely guests arrived. I've been thinking that maybe New York has more resources with the potential of shedding light on our objet myste'rieux here, and was going to ask if I might stay over a few days to pursue an answer."

Gia frowned. "But what about Terry? You've been away for almost a week."

"I spoke to her yesterday morning and she's perfectly fine with it. She knows how much it means to me." He looked at Jack with puppy-dog eyes. "So whatta ya say, bro? Put up with me for a few more days?"

Jack caught a look from Gia that said, You're not going to kick out your own brother, are you?

No question why Tom brought this up in front of her.

Gia and Vicky's presence, plus the certain knowledge that Dad would have wanted Jack to cut him some slack, kept him from grabbing Tom by the throat and tossing him through a window.

Bastard.

3

Jack helped Gia and Vicky clear the dishes while Tom read the paper.

"I can see it now," Jack whispered while they were in the kitchen. "I'll never get rid of him. He'll be the man who came to dinner. I've got to find him a hotel."

She said, "You and he are the only ones left in your family. You should find a way to get along."

Jack nodded—not because he agreed, but because he didn't want to get into a discussion about this. At least not now.

Gia was right in theory, but he saw no way the two of them would ever have much in common.

"Hey!" Tom called from the table. "The Merry Widow is at the Met tonight!"

"Really?" Gia gravitated toward the front room. "That's one of my favorites."

"And Noelle Roberts is playing Hanna."

"I saw her as Mimi in La Boheme last year. She's wonderful."

Jack followed her in, snapping his fingers. "La Boheme… La Boheme … is that the one where somebody dies at the end?"

Gia laughed. "Someone almost always dies at the end of an opera. And you know that."

Tom slammed his hand on the table. "Let's go! Let's all go tonight!"

Listen to him, Jack thought. The feds are after him and he wants to go to the opera.

Of course, that was probably the last place they'd look for him.

"I'd love to," Gia said, "but I can't get a sitter on such short notice."

"Bring Vicky along. My treat."

Listen to Mr. Big Spender.

Gia shook her head. "No, she wouldn't like it. She's fine at the ballet where it's all music and movement, but at an opera… she'd be asking me every two minutes what they're saying. That wouldn't be fair to the people around us."

Jack looked at Gia. "You really want to go?"

"I'd love to see Noelle Roberts again."

"Then go. I'll take care of Vicky."

She smiled that smile. "Would you really? You don't mind?"

He knew Tom had the hots for her, but this was Gia. She wasn't a tease, didn't play games. It would be a friendly date. And she'd get to see her Noelle Roberts.

Jack put a finger to his chin and struck a pose of deep concentration.

"Hmmm… let's see… comes down to a choice between hanging out with Vicky or going through the auditory equivalent of a root canal without anesthesia… I'd say that's a no-brainer."

"Great!" Tom cried. "Then it's settled. I'll reserve the tickets and find a place to rent a tuxedo."

"Oh, you don't have to—"

"Oh, but I do. With such a beautiful woman on my arm, attiring myself in anything less would be not only a breach of manners, but an affront to all of nature."

Jack closed his eyes. He had to get him out of here.

4

When Jack returned from hailing Gia and Vicky a cab, he found Tom back at the table, reading the Times.

"Tom?" It took an effort, but he managed to keep from shouting. "The deal was you'd stay one night. What are you pulling here?"

Tom put down the paper. "Self-preservation."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I've been found out. Terry says federal marshals have been at the house looking for me. They know I'm gone."

Jack couldn't rein in a burst of fury.

"You've got feds on your trail? That means when they find you they find me! And if they charge me with harboring a fugitive…"

Jack could see his world going down in flames. The web of secrets that cocooned his identity, his work, his whole damn life would fall apart under federal scrutiny.

"What do you mean, 'when' they find me? They won't. They won't know where to look. Terry thinks I'm on my way to Bermuda right now, not already back. They'll be chasing their tails. And as for tracking me here, they don't even know I've got a brother, let alone what city he lives in."

"But Terry knows."

He nodded. "Yeah, Terry knows a few things, but nothing of any use. If she rats me out—which she might—she'll tell them I've got a brother named Jack who lives in New York. But unless I've misread things, you're not listed anywhere under your own name, are you."

Correct.

Jack nodded.

"Thought so. That means in order to find me they've got to find you, and since you aren't findable, ipso facto, neither am I."

Jack stared at his clueless, bastard brother a long time before responding.

"You know, Tom, I've got a great idea. Let's play a game. It's called Cain and Abel. You'll be Abel…"

Tom laughed. "You worry too much. We're safe."

"I want you out of here. Today."

"And what? Feed me to the wolves? If I register anywhere I'll be found. Look, as soon as your pal Ernie has my new identity I'll be gone, out of your life for good. But until then, I need a hiding place. So you've got to let me stay, bro."

"Cool it with the 'bro' bit, okay? It suits you like a Kangol cap."

Tom frowned. "Kangol?"

"There—you've made my point."

"I don't know what the hell you're talking about. Just put me up till Ernie delivers. Is that asking so much?"

Jack hated this, but didn't see a way out. "Okay. But when Ernie delivers, you go."

He grinned. "Deal! Oh, one more thing. Promise me you won't mention my troubles to Gia, okay? I'd rather she didn't know."

"She already knows you've got legal problems."

Tom's face fell. "Oh hell."

"I didn't go into detail—she didn't want me to—but if she asks, I'll tell her what she wants to know. No holding back."

Jack's holding back the truth had once nearly destroyed their relationship just as it was beginning.

"Fair enough, I guess. I hope she doesn't ask. And by the way, thanks for volunteering to sit for Vicky tonight. I think Gia's going to have a really good time."

"And you? You're doing this out of the goodness of your heart, I suppose."