Arctic Fire (14 page)

“T
HANKS FOR
coming, Hunt. I appreciate it.”

“No problem. I mean, it’s not like you’ve got to try real hard to convince me to have a beer with you. So I’m guessing from your tone and the ‘I appreciate it’ that there’s something else going on here.”

“There is.”

They were sitting at the bar of an Irish pub in lower Manhattan near Tri-State Securities. It was a place they’d gone more than a few times after a rough day on the trading floor.

“So, what’s up?”

“What do you mean?” Jack had heard the suspicious tone in Hunter’s voice.

“Where’d you go after you left the trading floor this afternoon? I thought you said you were running an errand, but you never came back. Then you called from your cell phone and asked
me to meet you here.” Hunter took several swallows of beer. “It was all kind of mysterious, and you aren’t normally mysterious. You’re more the in-your-face type, you know?”

“Uh-huh.”

“So,
what’s up
?”

Jack tore off the corner of the paper napkin beneath his beer glass as he thought about how much to tell Hunter. They were best friends, but this was a crazy thing he was doing. And the favor he was going to ask for would probably sound even crazier to Hunter than where Jack was going. He didn’t want to have to explain both things tonight because the favor was going to take awhile. Plus, admitting that he was going to Alaska might lead to talking about that bombshell Bill had dropped today in his office.

Jack didn’t want to go in that direction either. He was still digesting the news himself. He wasn’t ready to share that with
anyone
.

He didn’t want to tell Hunter about the trip mostly because he didn’t have time—he had another meeting in a few minutes. But it was a little because of his close call with that white van on Broadway this afternoon too. Now that he thought about it, maybe it was more than a little about the van, maybe
a lot
about it.

“I resigned,” he finally answered.

Hunter’s eyes flashed up from his beer glass. “No shit?”

“After I left the trading floor this afternoon, I went into Jamie Hildebrand’s office upstairs and quit.”

“But why?” Hunter asked. “I mean, you never mentioned anything about it.” He shrugged. “It isn’t like you needed my OK before you did it. I just thought we were good friends.”

“Best friends, Hunt. You know that.”

Hunter leaned back in the stool and crossed his arms over his chest. “I’ve gotta say I’m a little surprised you didn’t at least mention something to me.”

“Yeah…I know.” He could tell Hunter was hurt. “Sorry.”

“Well, what are you doing?” Hunter asked when Jack didn’t volunteer anything more. “Why’d you quit?”

Jack inhaled deeply. “I need to take some time off. I need to get away for a while.”

“Because of what happened to Troy?”

“Is that so wrong?”

“Of course not,” Hunter replied. “I’m sorry Troy died, but I think it’s really good that you’re taking it so…well, so deeply.”

“I am.” More than Hunter could know, Jack thought to himself.

“Where are you going?”

Jack glanced up. “Who said anything about going anywhere?”

“You did. A second ago you said you needed to get away.” Hunter took several more gulps of beer. “It sounded like you meant you were getting away from the area. Or did you just mean you needed to get away from Tri-State?”

Jack needed to come up with something fast. Hunter would figure out pretty quickly that he wasn’t around. The good thing was that Hunter never talked to Bill, so he wasn’t worried about Hunt finding out that his real destination was Alaska.

“I’m going to Florida.”

“
Florida?
Why?”

“It’s almost winter. It’s gonna get cold for good soon. I was thinking I’d head to the Keys and pick up a bartending job for the season. It shouldn’t be hard to find something like that down there now.”

“Bartending? Are you serious?”

“Sure. Why?”

Hunter shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s such a one-eighty. I know this thing with Troy hit you hard, but don’t you think going to Florida to be a bartender is kind of drastic?”

Jack wanted to tell Hunter what the real deal was. And the words were on the tip of his tongue. “I just need some time,” he murmured, glad he hadn’t given in to the temptation to tell him about Alaska. He was probably being paranoid, but he felt better keeping Hunter in the dark about it. He’d tell him everything when it was all over. “That’s all.”

Hunter looked around the bar sadly. “Guess it’ll be the last time we do this for a while.”

“I guess.”

“Why didn’t we just talk on the train?” Hunter asked, checking his watch. “We could have taken a Metro North home together.”

“I’m meeting someone else down here in a few minutes,” Jack explained, checking his watch too.

“Who?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Oh, I get it. First you leave me by myself at Tri-State to go to Florida. Then you stonewall me when I ask an innocent little question. I guess we’re not as close as we used to be. Is this guy your new best friend or something?”

“Give me a break, Hunt. He’s just somebody I need to talk to about something.”

The guy had been his and Hunter’s boss at the firm where they’d worked before Tri-State. The guy had always said he felt bad for letting them go, and had always offered to help out. So Jack was going to put him on the spot tonight. He needed money badly now that Bill had made it clear he wasn’t going to be an ATM if the use of funds involved Alaska and Troy. Bill had sent him a text a few minutes ago making that clear
again
—and warning him again to stay away from Alaska
again
.

“It’s no big deal.” He didn’t want to tell Hunter what was going on because he didn’t want Hunter getting curious and calling the guy.

Hunter held his hand up. “OK, OK. I guess I’m just cranky because my best buddy and his bad but loveable attitude are taking off. No more train rides in from Connecticut together, no more screwing around on the trading floor when things get slow, no more beers after work. I’m not gonna lie to you, pal. This sucks.”

“It does suck,” Jack agreed. He appreciated Hunter’s candor. It made him feel good. “But I have to do this.”

“I know. I guess,” Hunter added as though he didn’t really understand.

For a few moments Jack thought again about telling Hunter what Bill had told him this afternoon in the office—that he wasn’t adopted. But again he decided against it. He had talk to Hunter about that other thing, and there wasn’t much time to do that and get to his other meeting. “I need a favor.”

“Name it and you got it. You know that.”

Jack hesitated. He knew how this was going to sound, but he had to keep his promise. “I need you to look in on somebody while I’m gone because I might be away for a while.”

“OK.”

“And you can’t tell anybody about it. OK?”

“Why not?”

“You just can’t,
all right
?”

“
All right
.” Hunter paused for a few moments. “So who’s this person?”

“She lives over in Brooklyn,” Jack answered quietly. “Her name’s Lisa Martinez, and she’s got a little boy.” He glanced around the bar and leaned forward slightly. “His name’s Jack.”

Hunter’s eyes flashed to Jack’s at light speed. “Aw, Christ, Jack. What the hell have you done?”

J
ACK’S EYES
moved from the late news on the TV screen to his front door when he thought he heard something outside the apartment. Then he heard what sounded like a knock, but he wasn’t sure.

It was eleven twenty and he wasn’t expecting anyone. He’d been lying on his living room couch listening to the anchorman’s smooth voice, trying to forget what had happened today. And wondering how in the hell he was going to get to Dutch Harbor, because his seven o’clock meeting had turned out to be a dead end. The guy’s wife had nixed the loan over the phone while they were sitting at another bar near the place he’d met Hunter. Now he had only fifteen hundred bucks left to his name after giving Lisa Martinez the five hundred.

He’d actually heard himself starting to snore as he’d drifted off listening to the news. But at the sound of the knock he was wide awake again and his heart was pumping hard.

He stared across the room through the flickering light coming from the TV screen. Maybe he was just being paranoid. Maybe he hadn’t really heard anything outside. But after almost being killed by that van in front of Trinity Church today, he felt like he had a damn good reason to be paranoid. Thank God for whoever had yelled at him from the sidewalk. If not for that angel he’d be lying on a gurney in the morgue right now instead of on this sofa.

A voice in the back of his head had been telling him to get out of here for the last few hours…just like it had been whispering about that picture of Troy standing in front of the
Arctic Fire
. He’d called Hunter twice after they’d met for drinks to see if he could stay at his and Amy’s place tonight, but Hunter hadn’t called back yet. Which was strange because Hunter always called right back. Hunter’s cell phone was basically part of his body.

This time the knock was loud and clear.

Jack glanced at his bedroom door as he rose up quickly into a sitting position. He was an avid bird hunter, and he had two shotguns in there. The over-and-under twelve-gauge was empty, but the side-by-side was loaded. He always kept that one loaded.

“Jack.
Jack.
”

His shoulders sagged as he stood up and hurried to the door. He’d recognized the voice right away, but this was still a strange situation. During the three years he’d lived in this apartment, she hadn’t come by once to see him. He was shocked that she actually knew where he lived.

“Hello, Cheryl,” Jack said as he swung the door open. He cringed. Old habits died hard. “I, I mean…
Mom
.” The word meant so much more now. “Come in. I’m sorry about the mess.”

“Please don’t apologize. It’s fine.”

“Can I get you something?” he asked as he closed the door behind her. It seemed surreal for her to be here. “Would you like something to drink?”

“No, thank you.”

Jack watched her take in what little there was of the place. He saw her glance at the three pizza boxes stacked on the coffee table in front of the couch, the clothes draped over chairs and lying in piles on the floor, and the small desk in the corner, which looked like it had been hit by a tornado. “I wish I’d known you were coming,” he said apologetically, flipping on the light and instantly regretting it. Now she could really see how bad the place looked. But she didn’t seem to care. “I would have cleaned up.”

“Don’t worry about it, sweetheart. I keep telling you.”

She’d always been so good to him. “I know, it’s just that—”

“Bill told me about this afternoon,” she interrupted. “He told me you came to his office, and he told me what he said.” She took a few seconds to pull herself together. “I’m sorry we lied to you all these years. It sounds so worthless when I hear myself say it, but I really am sorry. I wouldn’t blame you if you never forgave me.”

A muffled sob escaped her lips as tears formed on her lower lids. The same way they’d come to Bill’s eyes this afternoon. There was so much to talk about, but Jack had no idea how or where to start. “It’s OK, really.” He’d thought about calling her all afternoon, and he’d actually dialed her number twice. But then he’d quickly ended the call before the connection had been made.

“It’s not OK,” she murmured. “It’s horrible.”

It was horrible, but Jack didn’t want to go there right now. This seemed like too harsh a way to begin what he assumed was going to be a long conversation. They should be easing into this, not barreling at it head-on.

“He told me that you’re going to Alaska too,” she said, “to Dutch Harbor.”

That seemed like an odd topic to bring up now. When there were so many other more important things they needed to talk about. “Yeah…I am.”

Cheryl moved so she was standing directly in front of him and their faces were close. “He told you to stay away from there, didn’t he?”

Jack clenched his hands into tight fists. Maybe that was it. Maybe she’d come here to warn him too, and this visit was all part of a well-orchestrated bad cop, good cop routine. “I don’t want to talk about Alaska,” he said firmly.