"Cool," said Theo, and then his friends gave Cy an encouraging round of applause.
Cy bowed humbly and then weaved through the crowd, saxophone in hand. From behind the bar Theo cut off the CD that was playing over the sound system and adjusted the overhead lighting. Cy took his place on stage. The room was abuzz with loud talk and laughter, and nobody seemed to pay much attention to the tall, skinny, gray-haired man in the funny suit – until he started playing.
On the intimacy scale, Theo ranked playing the sax somewhere between crying and making love in public, such was the emotional and artistic connection between the musician and his instrument. Capturing an audience was a process, and Cy began with a flurry to grab the crowd's attention. Then he settled into his melody. Conversations quieted, then ceased. The old master was taking control.
Theo stood behind Trina and watched. She leaned back, seated on her bar stool, and settled into his arms. Her shoulder blades felt like wings against his chest, and along with everyone else in the room, she and Theo seemed to float a few inches off the ground as the old man played. Even Jack and Andie were at peace, their fingers interlaced on top of the bar.
After a few minutes, Trina reached behind her and pressed her hand against Theo's face. "I love my earrings," she whispered.
"I'm glad."
"Just one question."
"What?"
"How are you gonna wear these things on your-"
Theo covered her mouth, putting an end to the Prince Albert jokes.
She playfully bit his hand and gently tugged at her earrings, as if to confirm that both he and the jewelry were keepers.
Uncle Cy was in a groove, eyes closed, his body arching as he reached for each high note, a musician's musician playing his heart out.
Theo held his girlfriend tightly, caught up in her, caught up in the moment – spellbound by the timeless magic of Cyrus Knight.
Acknowledgments
After a one-book vacation from the Swyteck series with Lying with Strangers, I'm grateful to the team of all-stars who helped me get back into the groove of Jack and Theo: my editor, Carolyn Marino; her assistant, Wendy Lee; and my agent, Richard Pine. I also want to thank my early readers, Dr. Gloria M. Grippando, Eleanor Raynor, and Gloria Villa.
Beth Johnson was the lucky winner of a charity auction that helped me name one of my characters in Last Call I hope she always wanted to be a prison warden. If not, I hope she's at least glad that I didn't lend her name to an inmate. Either way, her generous donation goes to a great cause, the Ransom Everglades School in Miami, Florida.
As always, my biggest thank-you goes to Tiffany. She helps me in too many ways to enumerate, but I want to take this opportunity to assure her that I will never give her a roach brooch, and to assure each and every one of you (especially her friends) that Tiffany had absolutely nothing – zero, nada – to do with my research into a Prince Albert.
Finally, I want to thank the many, many pet lovers who wrote to me over the past year. In the acknowledgments to my last Jack Swyteck novel, When Darkness Falls , I mentioned the passing of Sam, my beloved golden retriever. Last Call was the first novel in a decade that I had to write without Sam at my side. Your stories about beloved pets were a huge comfort on the lonely days. For those of you who had trouble finding the story about Sam on my website, go to www.
About the Author
JAMES GRIPPANDO is the bestselling author of fourteen novels, including Lying with Strangers, When Darkness Falls, Got the Look, Hear No Evil, and Last to Die, which are enjoyed worldwide in more than twenty languages. He lives in Florida, where he was a trial lawyer for twelve years.
