Chapter 3

Chapter 3—Jack prepares for New York

5:25 a.m., Sunday, December 25

Jack’s mind was racing as though he had just tossed down two double espressos. He was wide-awake. Not only was he excited about going back to New York, now he was doubly wired at the prospect of spending time with his daughter—especially since she was requesting to see him.
“I need something to put me to sleep,” he thought, eyeing the hotel coffee shop. Jack had a sugar issue. He did not fully understand it, but he knew that if he ate a donut or two, with a glass of milk, within thirty minutes he would fall asleep. Usually he would wake back up after a few hours. But that would be just fine this time. All he really wanted was to fall asleep. He knew his mind and body would recover enough to function the rest of the day, even with only a limited amount of good rest
Jack never gloried in past achievements. And he never wallowed in his failures. He simply did not engage in second-guessing. From the moment the ice hit the water less than an hour earlier, he was on a new mission. This one called him to New York. And from what he could surmise, it was a big job, offering a much larger payday.
As he walked through the lobby, Jack was relieved to see that the coffee shop was open, even on Christmas morning. He was going to need his “donut and milk fix” to relax.
Whenever Jack ate in a restaurant, he always sought out a corner booth or table—one that afforded him a clear view of the entrance. He was pleased that on this occasion he was able to seat himself. He found a booth near the rear, one from which he could monitor those entering the coffee shop, as well as keep an eye on Riverwalk activity. He knew that a person in his line of work would stay alive only if he remained keenly aware of his surroundings.
“Sure, Honey, we have milk,” the waitress said, with more than a friendly smile. “Would you like it warmed? With a nipple perhaps?”
Jack looked up at her and smiled. “No, cold and in a glass will do just fine. ... Two percent, if you’ve got it. And how about one of those large frosted cinnamon buns? Could you warm one of those up for me?”
“Darlin’, I can warm up more than that for you.” She set a glass of water in front of Jack.  She then placed both hands on the table, and leaned toward him, exposing more than an ample cleavage. “Would you like anything else?”
Jack did appreciate the attention, and the view; but he chose not to acknowledge the flirt. He merely smiled again, and replied, “thanks, one of those large rolls, warmed up, would be great.”
The waitress smiled again. “I’ll be right back, Hon,” she said, as she turned and walked toward the kitchen. Jack’s eyes locked on her shapely form until she disappeared behind double swinging doors. “Youth Dew,” he thought. “That’s what she was wearing—Estee Lauder Youth Dew.”
That was the fragrance that Beth always wore.
He slowly ate half of the white-frosted cinnamon bun, and drank most of his two percent. After about twenty minutes, he caught himself staring wide eyed and unfocused through the window out into the Chicago darkness. The sugar had kicked in. Sensing his heart significantly slowing, he glanced down at his watch. “Five forty-five. Time to head up to my room,” he thought, snatching the bill as he stood to leave.
Just then he heard his cell phone ring. He had turned it on audible after Kate’s call. He recognized this ring tone. “Reg,” he said, “what are you doing up this time of the morning? … Christmas morning, no less?”
Jack’s face grew somber, as he detected his caller’s extreme agitation. He stood motionless, gripping the bill in his left hand, and holding his cell with his right. “Reg, we can’t discuss this on the phone. I’m catching a one o’clock out of O’Hare. I’ll be in the city by three. Why don’t you meet me at LaGuardia? ... Sure. No problem. I am whipped right now, but I’m going to get some rest before the flight. ... See you there. I’ll only have a few minutes though—gotta meet with my daughter, Kitty. You remember Kate—right? ... But we’ll have time to cover the basics ... great. ... See ya then.”
“I’ve had enough of this,” Jack thought. Looking down at his phone, he found and pushed the “off” button with his very large right thumb. “I have got to get some rest.”
He then slid his phone into the holder, picked up the bill, and slapped a ten on the table as a tip for the overly friendly waitress. Almost immediately he picked it back up and swapped it for a five. “Can’t have her getting the wrong idea,” he reasoned.
“Time for this guy to get a little shut-eye,” he said to himself. He paid his bill, and headed to his room.
On his way up, Jack could not help but wonder what had made his friend so nervous. The contract in New York had been set up by a very close friend of his, Reginald Black. Up until this call, Jack had not given the job a second thought. “Just another day at the office,” he figured. Through the years he had worked many jobs with his friend, and never before had he ever heard Reginald sound so worked up.
Jack felt his heart start to race. “Can’t let this happen,” he thought. “Got to get some rest. I’ll deal with Reg’s problems when I get to New York.”