Rain Gods (Hackberry Holland 2)

?Hey, we?re not on a hijack mission here,? Nick said. He knew his histrionic display at the driver?s expense was a mask for the fear that once again had taken up residence in his breast and was feeding at his heart. He had gotten the phone number of Josef Sholokoff from his old partner in the escort business and had made an appointment to meet Sholokoff at his house at nine P.M. that evening. The fact that Sholokoff had given Nick easy access to his home only increased Nick?s sense of insecurity.

?Hey, Mohammed, you ever hear of a guy named Josef Sholokoff?? Nick said. He gazed out the window, waiting for the driver?s reply. He watched the palm trees and stucco homes on the boulevard zoom by, the gardens bursting with flowers.

?Hey, you up there in the clouds of incense, you know a guy by the name of??

The driver?s eyes locked on Nick?s inside the rearview mirror. ?Yes, sir, Embassy Suites,? he said. He turned up the volume, filling the cab with the sounds of flutes and sitars.

Nick checked in to the hotel and undressed down to his boxer shorts and strap undershirt. His suite was on the fifth floor and overlooked the outdoor swimming pool; he could hear children shouting and splashing in the water. He started to go into the bathroom and take a shower but felt so weak he thought he was going to collapse. He fixed a glass of ice and bourbon from the hospitality bar and sat down in a chair and picked up the telephone. He could see his reflection in the mirror on the bathroom door. It was that of a small, puffy, round man in striped underwear, his childlike hand clenching a thick water glass, his pale legs knotted with clumps of varicose veins, his face a white balloon with eyes and a mouth painted on it. He punched his wife?s cell phone number into the phone.

?Hello?? she said.

?It?s me, Esther.?

?Where the hell are you??

?In Phoenix.?

?Arizona??

?Yeah, what are you doing??

?What am I doing? I?m pulling weeds in the flower bed. Which is what you should be doing. You?re actually in Arizona? Not just down the street having a nervous breakdown??

?I didn?t tell you because I thought you?d be upset. I got a return flight booked at six-forty-five in the morning. So it?s not like I?m really gone.?

?You?re over a thousand miles away, but that?s not gone??

?I?m gonna see this guy Josef Sholokoff. I called him up at his house.?

?This guy is worse than Jack Collins.?

?Nothing is gonna happen. I?ll be at his house. He?s not gonna hurt me in his own house.?

?I think I?m going to faint. Hold on, I got to get in the shade.?

?Did you know Esther was the name of Bugsy Siegel?s wife??

?Who cares? Is my husband totally nuts??

?I?m saying I?m no Benny Siegel, Esther.?

There was a long silence on the other end of the line.

?You there?? he said. ?Esther? What?s wrong??

Then he realized she was crying. ?Don?t be sad,? he said. ?You?re brave. I married the bravest, prettiest woman in New Orleans. We?re gonna start over again. We got the restaurant. We got each other and the kids. The rest of it doesn?t matter. Hello??

?Come home, Nick,? she said.

Nick showered and, for the next half hour, lay nude on top of his king-size bed, the points of his feet and hands spread in a giant X, like Ixion fastened to his burning wheel. Then he put cold water on his face and neck, and dressed in slacks and loafers and a fresh shirt, and called for a cab. He walked out of the hotel and stood under the porte cochere, his head as light as helium. The city was beautiful in the summer twilight, the palm trees tall and rustling, the mountaintops sharply etched against a magenta sky, the outdoor cafés filled with families and young people for whom death was an abstraction that happened only to others.

The dented cab that pulled up for him looked altogether too familiar. Nick opened the back door, and a sweet-sick cloud of incense that made him think of perfumed camel flop covered his skin and clothes. ?Mohammed,? Nick said.

?Tell me where you want to go, sir,? the driver said.

?To the home of Josef Sholokoff,? Nick replied, getting in the back. He wondered if he was actually trying to get Mohammed to talk him out of his mission. ?I got the address on this piece of paper. It?s up there in the hills somewhere.?

?Not good, sir.?