Part 28 (1/2)

”Black and tan,” Jade said to the bartender as he swung his long legs over the bar stool, taking his seat next to Tony. The bartender's nametag had ”JIM” written on it in big red letters.

Tony looked over at Jade, who was already nervously laying the coasters side by side on the bar. ”Oh, I'm fine, thanks. Yeah, work's going well and Maggie's doing just great,” he said, smiling as a smirk spread across Jade's face.

”Oh, I'm sorry, princess. Forgot to ask how your day was.”

”Forgiven. What's the word?”

Jade shook his head. ”The FBI's already maxed out on the case. I need to know I can count on you if something comes up and I need more manpower.”

”Sure, kid. Of course.”

Jade straightened the coasters in a line with the edge of his hand. ”So, any more big-league crimes in Falstaff? Kids playing mailbox baseball? Petty shoplifting? Overdue library books?”

”Yeah, f.u.c.k you, kid. Nothing too thrilling, though, gotta admit. Some guy beat up his girlfriend pretty bad last night, but he was calm by the time we got over there.”

”No action, huh?” Jade leaned forward, paying attention to Tony for the first time.

”No. Nothing.” He saw the look of disappointment cross Jade's eyes. ”You know, some people consider that a good thing.”

Jade downed his black and tan, holding the gla.s.s upside down as the creamy head slid into his mouth. He raised a finger to Jim, then lowered it and tapped the rim of his gla.s.s.

”I had a guy a few years back who beat up real bad on his kids. I was tracking him on a drug case, wound up at this shady apartment in Oakland. Kids all cowering in the background. I got over there and he looked charged, like he wanted to go. Didn't even try to escape. I was just praying he'd try'n hit me. He came on and I dropped him to one knee with a single shot to the gut.” Jade's right arm tightened as he recalled the shot, the soft sink of his fist into the stomach just below the rib cage.

”Had a blade out and tried to swipe at my legs. I broke his f.u.c.kin' cheek in four places with the b.u.t.t of my gun.” He told the end of the story gazing at himself in the mirror behind the bar. His face had the dreamy look of someone recalling a romantic interlude.

Tony watched Jade with some concern. He cleared his throat loudly and took a long sip.

”How's the kid?” Jade asked.

”Tommy?”

”Whatever.”

”He still remembers that time you brought him that-”

”Yeah, well, it was left over.”

Tony lowered his head and smiled. ”He's good. Starts kindergarten in the fall.”

”That's good. Outta your hair more, huh?”

”Yeah. Guess so. Hadda birthday party last week. Clowns and cake and all that s.h.i.+t. It goes by so fast sometimes you can't even see it.”

Jade stared into his own eyes in the mirror again. ”Clowns, huh?”

Tony glanced over at Jade's expression and laid a hand on his shoulder. ”All right. This nun gets into a cab, and the cabdriver asks her what's up with the celibacy vow thing, right? So the nun says, 'Well, maybe I'd consider having an affair, but the man would have to be Catholic, unmarried, and not have any children.' So the cabbie says, 'Well that describes me perfectly. Why don't you come on up here?' And the nun goes in the front seat and gives him a b.l.o.w. .j.o.b.”

”That was quick.”

”Indeed. So she finishes up and the guy starts laughing, and she asks him, 'What's so funny?' And he says, 'Well, I'm Protestant, and I'm married with two kids.' And the nun looks at him for a moment, then shrugs and says, 'Well, that's okay, my name's Fred and I'm on my way to a costume party.'”

There was a long, uncomfortable silence as Jade continued to stare at his reflection. He normally knew how far he could get inside his quarry without losing his balance, but something about this case made it hard for him to find the line of demarcation. Allander kept moving, playing, changing. It was almost impossible to nail him down.

”That's the punch line, you see,” Tony said. ”The nun was a guy, which provides us with good h.o.m.ophobic humor.” He looked at Jade's serious expression and stood up, raising his hands in defeat. ”Well, as good company as you've been, I'm outta here. Gotta get back to Maggie and 'the kid,' you know?” He tossed money on the bar.

”Yeah.”

”See ya later, hotshot.”

As the door banged shut behind Tony, Jim walked over. ”Hey,” he said, ”we're closing up.”

Jade turned slowly to face him, his eyes unfocused. Jim blanched.

”I'm gonna lock up the front then, so no one wanders in. I gotta cash out in the back. You take your time and I'll let you out when you're ready.” Jim spoke slowly as he inched away, a lion tamer backing out of a cage.

Jade ignored him, gazing ahead at his reflection in the mirror. He thought of the sprawling bodies, the wash of blood on the walls, Leah's frightened little face floating above the sheets of the hospital bed. People were dying because of him. He glared at himself in disgust.

He sensed a slight movement in the mirror, reflected from outside. He wouldn't have noticed earlier, but it was late now and the streets were empty. His eyes darted to his left, fixing the spot on the mirror and focusing on the image. It was difficult given the darkness outside and the reflections of the bar's lighted interior.

It seemed like an eternity as he waited for his eyes to adjust to the image outside, but he sat like an animal, head trained on its prey. Finally, he saw the two eyes peering at him from the darkness; he could make out the sweep of the cheekbones and the casually drifting hair. The rest of the face and body faded straight into the night, a ghostly apparition.

But it was enough for him to know.

Jade's lips moved silently. He mouthed the name once before he was on his feet and across the bar in a few giant strides, his bar stool sent spinning like a top.

FOUR.

THE CONVERGENCE.

47.

T H E thick door was locked and Jade's arm almost ripped out of its socket as he tried to yank it open. He could have sworn he felt the big bra.s.s handle give slightly at the screws. He was locked in the bar.

Yelling at the top of his lungs, Jade seized the nearest stool and raised it above his head, charging the window. He followed the stool through the window as pieces of gla.s.s showered over him. Hitting the ground in a roll, he was on his feet almost immediately, whirling to check all around him, moving not just his head but his whole body.

Then, he stood perfectly still. Steam drifted slowly up from a sewer grate and somewhere, far away, someone tuned a violin. The streets were empty. No one. Nothing. Just the tinkle of a shard of gla.s.s falling from the window's shattered frame.

He moved swiftly to check the alley next to the bar and along the neighboring streets. As he pursued imaginary footsteps, the heat of his temper rose until it flushed his cheeks, and his breath hammered in his throat. He had lost him. He had lost Allander.

”f.u.c.k,” he screamed, kicking a metal trash can end over end across the bar's parking lot. The sudden ache in his foot returned his clarity. He took a deep breath, then walked slowly back to the bar, his fingers tracing the scar on his cheek.