Daring Time

Diamond Jack picked up the glass of whiskey the bartender set in front of him, checked the gold watch he kept on a chain and walked toward Ryan with a broad grin on his fat face.

Ryan was reminded of an overfed shark dressed up in the clothing of a southern gentleman. He'd had similar thoughts about Jim Donahue innumerable times in the past—or the future, however you wanted to word it. In truth, Jim and Jack weren't a matched pair in physical appearance. They might have been brothers instead of twins.

But their physical inexactness did nothing to sway Ryan's firm conviction that they possessed one and the same soul.

"I didn't catch your name," Jack said as he came toward Ryan.

"I didn't give it."

The bartender made a hissing sound and flexed his Popeye forearms as he formed fists.

Ryan suppressed

rolling his eyes in barely contained frustration. God damn it, he'd come here for Hope. What'd it mean that he'd run into Jim Donahue's former incarnation in the meanwhile?

And what the hell? He didn't even believe in reincarnation, did he?

"Now, now, Alfie. Keep your fists busy pouring drinks. We have a thirsty crowd here tonight, and this boy looks like he'd hold his own, anyway," Jack said as he shrewdly studied Ryan's stature and then swept his gaze across the quickly filling room. A line of patrons still streamed in, making the fifteen or so women that circulated in the crowd highly outnumbered. Another bartender had joined Alfie behind the bar and was pouring whiskey and beer for two women who, given their listless expressions, relative lack of face paint and drab dresses were there to serve drinks instead of entertain the men.

Jack waved a diamond-laden hand in Ryan's direction. "Looks like this young man could use one of those drinks. He's likely just a mite nervous about meeting Mario. Wouldn't we all be? A glass of my finest will put him at his ease."

Alfie looked vaguely surprised at his boss's request but he followed his order quickly enough. Ryan sat down, placing the short-brimmed ivory felt hat on the bar. When Alfie set a glass in front of him he automatically took a swallow, pausing before he took a second, more appreciative sip. Diamond Jack chuckled.

"That's from my private stores. I have it shipped to me from the finest distillery in Tennessee not far from where I grew up."

"Not bad," Ryan conceded.

"I can see you're a man of good taste. Now ... are we ever to know your name, son?"

"Daire," Ryan muttered. He gave Jack a sidelong glance, curious despite his wariness.

Hadn't the frustrated detective whose notes he'd read—Connor J. O'Rourke—written that Diamond Jack Fletcher was the prime suspect in Hope's murder?

And now he'd discovered Diamond Jack and Jim Donahue were the same man. Perhaps he wasn't in the wrong place, after all. Now he just needed to figure out without blowing his cover who the hell Alfie and Jack had mistaken him for.

"Where's Mario?" Ryan asked, hoping it was a safe question.

"He's taking care of some business for me. He'll be along. I've told the girls to carry on with the Slip and Whip for the first show tonight." Jack paused, beady eyes fixing on a tall, thin, disheveled-looking man who staggered into the main room, a woman supporting him on each side.

"Excuse me for a moment," Jack murmured, obviously irritated. Ryan tried to pretend he wasn't listening as Jack approached the half-soused dandy.

"Are you sure you should be down here, Mason?" Jack asked silkily.

"Course I am. I've slept it off and am now good as new, isn't that right, ladies?"

The bold-featured, blonde female on the right of him winked slyly at Mason. "Everything seems to be in perfect working order, wouldn't you say, Betsey?"

The redheaded Betsey giggled and petted the drunk guy along his thin chest and belly sycophantically. "Oh, he's a perfect specimen of manhood, Mel."

Jack leaned against the bar. Although Ryan wasn't fully looking into his face he got the distinct impression he rolled his eyes in disgust. "All right, you two, cut the act. Get up there and put on just as good of a show onstage or I'll set Big Mario on the both of you afterward for not keeping him upstairs to sleep it off like I told you to."

The sly, seductive expressions on both women's faces vanished in an instant. The threat of Big Mario was obviously not taken lightly.

"I thought Nancy and Sadie were doing the Slip and Whip tonight," the blonde woman said a tad bit suspiciously.

Jack pulled back his hand as though he were about to strike her for her insolence. "Who makes the rules here, Mel? Get up on that stage."

"Big Mario keeps the girls here in line?" Ryan mumbled when Alfie paused in front of him after pouring a glass of bourbon.