I went in to say goodbye to Ben while Jack took my bag out to the car to wait for me. He started to get up, but I waved him back to his seat. He put his tablet on the table beside him to give me his full attention, waiting for me to speak first.
“I’m not sure how long I’ll be away. Probably a couple of days. Three at the most.”
He only nodded.
“Lorelei will take you and Gus to breakfast.”
More nodding. The shame that I had come to this, become this woman, was the only emotion that seemed to take any bite out of the guilt I felt over Raymond.
“If you need anything, anything at all, let Lorelei know.”
“I’ll be fine.”
Now I nodded. “I know I’ll be back in time for your doctor’s appointment at the end of the week.”
“If you’re not, Lorelei can take me.”
I started to open my mouth to say I’d surely be home by then, but stopped. This could all go horribly wrong. Hell, Jack might arrest me mid-flight when I told him the whole story. Or if not, I could be under federal investigation just by coming within twenty feet of the Joseph family.
Or Vince could be. Which would be worse, for not only Vince, but also for Raymond and me.
Orange had never been a good color on me – not to mention those shapeless jumpsuits.
“Okay. Well, then…”
Ben waved me over to him, and I bent down and received his hug, his frame feeling small and bony. Had he become frailer? Could he afford to?
“Hannah, darling, I love you,” he whispered into my hair, then added, “Make this right.”
I gulped, not able to speak, hugging him tighter, nodding my head into his shoulder. When I was able to gather myself, I pulled away from his embrace but couldn’t meet his eye.
When I went outside, Jack was putting my bag into the back seat, where his sat, then went to the trunk and opened it. I came up beside him as he reached in and unlocked a steel attaché case. He removed his gun from his belt clip and placed it in the case in a custom spot in the foam obviously made for the gun. He took a clip of ammunition also from his belt and placed it in the case as well. Then he locked the case and closed the trunk.
“Why did you do that?”
“I didn’t want to do it at the airport where someone might see.”
I shook my head. “No. I mean, why did you take it off at all?”
He opened the passenger door, and I slid into the car. He shut the door behind me then crossed to the driver’s side, got in, shut the door and started up the car. “I can’t take a gun on a plane, Johanna.”
“But you’re a cop.”
He pulled away from the curb. I probably should have felt like I had with Vince – like I should take a good look at my house in case I never got back there. But I didn’t feel that way this time, even though the possibility was more likely now.
I decided not to question that feeling too much right now.
“Cops haven’t been able to take a gun on an airplane for years,” he explained.
“Oh,” I said, the disappointment in my voice. “Of course not. I guess I should have known that.”
“Don’t tell me you only want me for my gun,” he teased.
“You mean you have other assets?”
“Oh, Johanna, you have no idea,” he said, chuckling.
But that was the problem. I did have not only an idea, but proven fact of Jack’s assets.
I was kind of hoping that the flight would be crowded, that we’d be surrounded, that there would be no way to tell Jack my story on the flight.
Dear God, why couldn’t there have been a screaming baby?
But no. Lorelei had booked us into first class, which was utterly desolate with only Jack and me and two businessmen, rows away from us, who both put in earbuds and booted up their laptops as soon as we were given the all clear from the pilot.
We declined the initial offer of drinks from our flight attendant, but as soon as the businessmen had their earbuds in, Jack waved her over and ordered a bourbon. I asked for the same. Bourbon wasn’t my favorite, but I figured I’d be talking more than drinking anyway, I might as well get something that Jack could finish for me.
She put down our drinks, asked if we needed anything else to which we said no, then disappeared to the front of the cabin.
Jack circled the top of his glass, slightly dipping his finger into the amber liquid. He put his finger to his mouth, barely wetting his lips. He raised the glass, took a small sip, savoring the taste in his closed mouth as he slowly lowered the glass to his tray table.
He turned his head to me. “Okay. I’m not only off duty and out of my jurisdiction, I am in no way a cop for the duration of this flight. Think of me as a priest hearing your confession in the safe confines of a confessional booth.”
“Except with bourbon.”
He smiled. “You can’t be sure those guys don’t have a bottle in there with them.”
“They probably need a good stiff drink after most confessions.”
“True.” He took another sip, this one more like a gulp. “Let me just preface this with one question.” I nodded. “Does your story in any way involve a homicide?”
“No. Not in – ”
“Or possibly involve a homicide in the near future?”
Oh. Well. I didn’t really think Vince would have Raymond taken out of the picture. Did I? And I didn’t really fear there’d be some kind of shoot-out when faced with L’il Roy. Did I?
“Not in the past. Not even close. No plans for the future,” I finally said.
Jack looked at me for a long time. His brown eyes almost the same shade as the bourbon in his glass, which was once again raised to his lips. He took a long drink. I watched the movement of his throat as the smooth liquor glided down. He set the glass back down. “Okay,” he said, “let ‘er rip.”
I told him everything.
How I’d begun playing in back-room games so I could play better players, and play on credit if need be. That after playing poker for hours in a casino poker room and having won only a couple of hundred, or even lost, I’d find one of Vince’s games to play on credit and win enough to make my bets for the next day’s games.
“You were that broke? Living that close to the edge? Is that when you lived with Ben at his place?”
I shook my head. “No, I had money, I just gave it all to Lorelei. I’d just keep out enough to play for a couple of days then give her the rest.”
“So why not ask her for some when you needed it?”
“That wasn’t our agreement. I’d gotten into some…trouble…my first couple of years out here.” Although we were probably over Utah or beyond by now, not “here”. Maybe that’s why it was easier to spill this whole sordid story. We were in no man’s land. Space. The final frontier.
“I’ve seen the scar on your foot, Johanna,” he said, “Paulie Gonads’ signature. I know what kind of trouble you were in.”
I nodded. “But I got out of it. With Ben’s help. That’s when we started living together. He – and the other boys – taught me to sink my money into things that couldn’t easily be pawned for extra money. No easy temptations.”
“The big house.”
“Yes. After my first big win. My first final table. When all I wanted to do was take that fat check and plunk it down on the Giants.”
“The Giants? Really?”
I shrugged, but continued to stare straight ahead at the back of the empty seat in front of me. “The Giants. The Lakers. USC. It didn’t matter. It never really mattered what team.”
He was silent, I suppose trying to understand. Good luck, I didn’t understand it myself.
From the corner of my eye, I saw him run his finger up and down his glass, sitting empty on his fold-out tray. “Like it doesn’t really matter if it’s bourbon,” he finally said, and I felt the first glimmer of hope that I might come out of this without losing Jack’s help.
I knew I’d already lost his…respect?…trust?…whatever. It had been gone for awhile now.
And yet, he was here, right beside me, when I’d needed him.
“Yeah,” I said, “like that.” I took my untouched glass of bourbon and put it on his tray, taking his empty and putting it on mine.
The flight attendant entered the cabin from the front. She asked the businessmen if they needed anything, then approached Jack and me. She eyed my empty glass. “Another bourbon?”
“Please,” I said. “And a water, too.”
I kept quiet until she came back with the drinks and disappeared once more behind the curtain.
“So,” Jack said after taking a drink from his glass, “the house.”
“Right. The house. The cars. The gourmet kitchen. The televisions – wall mounted so I’d have no idea of how to take them to a pawn shop.”
“Were you ever tempted to? Get some quick cash by hocking your stuff?”
“Constantly. But that’s where Lor came in.” I explained to him our partnership, how I handed over my winnings and she kept the house running. “And it’s worked great. Really great, I found out today. Apparently. I’m filthy rich.”
“Terrific. Then what the fuck are you doing playing in back-room games with loan shark money?”
“Well, like I said, I’d hand over my money to Lor, keeping out my stake for the next day’s play. But there’d be those times when I’d lose, or not win enough to place my bets, and so I’d go play on credit. It didn’t really matter, because most nights I won or broke even. The times I lost, it wasn’t too bad. I could usually win it back the next day or two playing poker, and I’d have it paid off before the week was out.”
“But not always.”
I took a drink of bourbon. It burned. I switched to the bottle of water, taking a long sip. “No, not always.”
I could feel his body tense beside me. “Tell me, Johanna.”
“Well, this is when JoJo came into existence.”
“JoJo?”
I took a deep breath. “Yeah. And she’s one bitch you do not want knocking on your door.”
Two bourbons later, both drained by Jack, there were JoJo’s past escapades, lain bare, as if sitting on the table trays in front of us.
“Jesus Christ,” Jack whispered.
“Yeah,” was all I could say.
I didn’t tell him that Vince had been the backer for Raymond Joseph, but he’d probably guessed that.
“So what’s the deal with Raymond and this Bubba Kinney? Are you hooked up with this Kinney guy, too?”
“No. I cut Raymond off. He had no way to get ahold of me.”
“So he went looking for a new stake.”
“Probably.”
“Greedy.”
“No. Not really.” Then I explained that all of Raymond’s ill-gotten gains had gone to pay for his sister’s drug rehab, and to help his mother so she could be there for the sister. “I told him the last time I saw him that he’d only have this opportunity a few more weeks. That CIU wouldn’t be the favorites as soon as the tournament started. He knew his window was closing.” I took a sip of water. “And then I cut him off.”
“You didn’t make him contact this Kinney character.”
“Didn’t I? I was like a drug dealer. Gave him a taste…”
“What’s one of those damned steps? Take responsibility for your actions?”
“I’m not sure if that’s exactly a step.” What a pair we were. Between us we could probably cobble together a half-assed recovery program that would have us deep in rehab the first week.
He waved a hand in the air. “Whatever. It should be if it isn’t. So, yeah, take responsibility for your actions. But you’re not responsible for what this kid does after you.”
“Aren’t I?”
He didn’t answer.
“I owe this kid, Jack.”
“Jesus, Johanna. What a fucking mess.”
I bristled. I had no reason to, he was absolutely right, but I still hit back. “You’re no saint, either.” I motioned to the empty glasses in front of us.
“At least my life is the only one I’m destroying. I haven’t dragged some innocent kid into it.”
“What about your son?
“Fuck,” he said under his breath, and I felt instant regret.
“Jack, I’m sorry. I’m ashamed and embarrassed, and thinking you’ll probably be slapping cuffs on me at any moment. I lashed out. It’s none of my business. And I’m sure you’re doing the best you can by your son.”
A small snort escaped him. “Yeah. Right. Maybe I should come with an alter ego, too. Somebody sober and a dedicated father, and…” he trailed off.
“That was the easy way out. And you don’t take the easy way, Jack.”
“JoJo was the easy way?”
I shrugged. “I could have taken the beating. I didn’t have to become JoJo.”
“Why didn’t you? Fear?”
“More than that. Shame. The shame of Lorelei and especially Ben finding out.”
“Shame trumps fear?”
“Shame trumps everything.”
He looked away, quiet for a moment as he stared as his empty glass. Then I heard him say more to himself than me, “Yeah, I guess it does.”
Jack didn’t slap the cuffs on me when we landed, but we didn’t say a whole lot either as we got our rental car and I drove us to the hotel. Jack called his contact with the Chicago police, but there was no news.
We checked in. Separate rooms, but adjoining. I didn’t know if Lorelei had requested that when she’d made the reservation, or if was standard with a couple checking in together but with two rooms, or if it was just the luck of the draw.
Jack came into my room with me, unlocked the adjoining door. “Keep that unlocked,” he said then left through the hallway. I heard him in his room a moment later, and then he had his door open. I was still standing where he’d left me, in front of the two adjoining doors. He looked at me, nodded, then turned around to throw his duffel bag on his bed.
“Are you afraid I’m going to bolt the first chance I get? Now that I’ve told you everything?” I asked.
“Not while you still need my help.”
“And after?”
He had his back to me. He pulled off his jacket, tossing it aside, his strong shoulders bunched as he grabbed clothes out of his bag, throwing them on the bed. He turned around, placed his hands on his hips. “No. Not after, either. You’re the worst kind of criminal, Johanna. Well, actually the best kind, to a cop.”
“How?” Was I actually insulted that I wasn’t a better crook in Jack’s eyes? Twisted.
“You have a conscience, and you have strong ties.”
I put my hands on my hips. We looked like we were playing some kind of weird mirror game, same pose on our own sides of the double doors. “What do you mean?”
“You want to help this kid…conscience. And you’d never take a runner. You’d never leave Ben.” He threw his hands up, grabbed his shaving kit from the bed and headed to the bathroom. “Pretty piss-poor mastermind criminal, Johanna.”
He closed the bathroom door behind him. I stepped to grab my bag and noticed in the mirror that I was smiling.