CHAPTER 3

Manhattan, October 1903

As the two walked, Jack shot a concerned sideways glance to Spot, but the Brooklynite avoided eye contact, remaining silent. He was too busy grappling with not just what he would say to Jack, but how he would say it. It was a sensitive situation and he needed both Jack's understanding and his cooperation.

But obtaining either was going to be no easy feat. He could already tell.

They made their way through the door of a small hole in the wall called Dempsey's. Spot recalled having been there before once or twice, but never with Jack. He caught a barmaid's attention from the opposite corner of the room and held up two of his fingers, calling, "Whiskeys."

She nodded shortly, giving Spot a quick once-over before shooting him an alluring smile and murmuring, "Sure thing, honey."

She couldn't have been much older than Spot and Jack, but the rouge on her cheeks and the coal black eyeliner around her eyes made her look severe and aged. Spot only offered her a short nod in thanks before turning back to Jack.

"Over there," Spot said waving toward a booth in the far back, away from the other patrons.

Once they had settled somewhat awkwardly into their seats, Jack sighed, running a hand through his mussed brown hair before raising his shoulders expectantly toward Spot.

"Well, watcha got for me, Brooklyn? I'm assumin' we ain't here to chat about the good ol' days."

Spot nodded steadily in confirmation. It had been a long time since the two had seen each other. Months, in fact. And after the contentious way their last interaction had ended, their relationship was certainly not on the best of terms. Spot had no difficulty imagining that Jack was less than thrilled to see him. But the fact that he had agreed to a drink in the first place had to be a positive sign.

Or maybe he was just there for the free booze. Regardless, Spot had little time to waste on coddling Jack's sensitive feelings on the matter.

"Look," Spot started, staring purposefully at Jack. "I know it's been a while, and the two of us ain't necessarily on good terms, but—" He paused, sighing heavily before saying, "I'll just come out and say it. I need your help with Kate."

Any signs of agreeableness in Jack's face quickly vanished following Spot's request. He stared steadily at Spot, his voice however, showing the real distaste he had for the topic. "You gotta lot a' fuckin' nerve, Conlon."

It was then that the barmaid showed up with their drinks. Spot didn't know whether to be relieved or annoyed as she slowly placed each glass in front of them, lingering somewhat awkwardly as she said, "You fellas need anything else from me?"

The question was obviously directed toward Spot, her dark eyes shining in invitation as she turned to step closer to him. But he nodded dismissively, clearing his throat as he pulled out a little more change than was owed and said, "I'll call ya back over if we need somethin' else."

Spot's voice was clipped as he immediately turned back to stare at Jack's infuriated gaze. And, thankfully, the woman huffed away without another word. "Jack, listen. I know how this looks—me comin' here and bringin' her up, but it's important. Have you seen her or heard from her?"

Jack's face was stony as he replied, "I figured you'd a' seen her much more recently than me."

"I ain't talkin' about me," Spot snapped somewhat impatiently. "Have you seen Kate lately?"

"What do you mean, lately?"

Spot leaned back against the wooden booth, clenching his jaw in annoyance before hissing, "For God's sake, Jack. Just answer the goddamn question!"

Jack's jaw tightened as well. "You know I ain't seen her since she ended things with me, Conlon. It's been-what-eight, nine months." He shook his head, irritable. "Come to think of it, that's about the last time I saw you too."

"What are you tryin' to say?" Spot asked, a sharp warning in his blue eyes.

But Jack didn't hesitate to seethe, "You know damn-well what I'm sayin'. It's the same thing I told her a year ago." He paused, taking a large swig of his drink before adding, "Y'know, I ain't stupid, and I certainly ain't blind. So I'd appreciate it if the two a' you would quit actin' like I was."

Spot could tell that Jack had a lot more to say on the matter. But before the Manhattaner could get his next bitter accusation out, Spot held up his hand and sighed. "Look, you probably got a lot a right to be mad at her, and maybe even me, but all that's beside the point right now."

"How convenient," Jack hissed as he clunked his drink down onto the table.

Spot nearly threw his arms up in exasperation. "None a' this is fuckin' convenient, Jack. I don't wanna be here askin' you this shit anymore than you want me to be. But I have to. I got nowhere else to go and I need your help."

"You need my help? With Kate?" Jack looked incredulous. "Why the hell would I help you with anything havin' to do with her?"

Spot sighed, taking a large gulp of his drink before murmuring, "Because she's in trouble."

Anger began to drain slowly from Jack's face at Spot's words. His brown eyes filled with confusion as he shook his head. "She's in trouble? What the hell are you talkin' about?"

Spot took another drink from his glass, his hand trembling slightly as he held it just above the table. His eyes stared beyond Jack's, his voice quiet. "Someone took 'er. She's been missin' for five days now."

Jack shook his head again, running a hand through his hair in discomfort. "Nah. That don't make sense." Jack stared incredulously toward Spot. "I mean, you know how she is. She comes and goes. She don't like no one monitoring her. Her own parents don't know where she is half the time."

"'Cause they don't care to know," Spot muttered darkly. "But I do. An' I'm tellin' you, she's gone, and it wasn't by her own choice."

"How the hell would you even know that?" Jack demanded.

But Spot remained silent, leading Jack to add, "Come to think of it, when's the last time you've seen her?"

Spot felt a pang of guilt reverberate through his body as he sipped the remainder of his whiskey, placing the now empty cup on the table and murmuring, "Six days ago."

Jack's face puckered further in confusion until he finally put his glass down and rubbed his hands roughly over his eyes. And after several moments of loaded silence, he dropped his forearms upon the table, leaning back against the old wood of the booth and shaking his head.

"Well, what about her parents?" Jack finally asked, still seemingly unconvinced. "If she's been gone five days, surely they've noticed. Have you thought about goin' and checkin' with them?"

"Yeah, I thought a' that first," Spot said, waving his hand somewhat impatiently at the topic. "But you know how they are. I mean, her ma was constantly throwin' her out the house whenever the mood struck her just right. But…there's somethin' strange about them too."

Jack raised his eyebrows in curiosity. "Somethin' strange about her parents?"

"Yeah," Spot confirmed. "A couple a' days after she went missin', they called the bulls over about it. But then a day later, they called off the search. An' she still hasn't shown back up."

Jack's eyes narrowed. "Somethin' ain't right about that."

"Exactly. Which is why I need your help," Spot said, leaning back and crossing his arms over his chest in decisiveness.

"I just told you I ain't seen her in months, Spot. So, what the hell do you need me for? I wouldn't know the first fuckin' place to look for her." Jack countered irritably. "Not to mention the fact that there ain't no fuckin' reason I should help."

"Yeah there is," Spot said with quiet assuredness, looking directly into Jack's gaze.

"Oh, really? How do you figure?" Jack's face was turning red from frustration, but there was a worry in his eyes that Spot could not ignore.

"'Cause you know people who might know where she is," Spot stated evenly before quickly adding, "And 'cause, after the piss poor way you treated her, you owe her this. Even though you get a bum rap, you're actually a decent guy underneath it all. Kate would be the first person to say it, too."

There was a long silence that permeated the crackling air around the two men. Jack's eyes were narrowed, his jaw tight as Spot continued to stare steadily into his gaze.

But finally Jack relented, falling back against the wooden booth and sighing. He looked defeated and stressed, a darkness under his eyes that showed how much he had truly aged in the last year.

"Yeah, alright," Jack said, tapping his fingers absently on the table. "I don't know what the hell you think I can do, but fine."

Spot nodded in tempered appreciation, watching as Jack downed the rest of his drink in one quick gulp. He grunted as he pushed the now empty glass away from himself, shrugging before he asked, "So, how do you know so much anyway? About her comings an' goings? You two attached at the hip now?"

"No," Spot said, somewhat defensively. "And I know because I know."

Jack snorted, shaking his head. "I shoulda known not to question the mysterious Spot Conlon's methods." Spot rolled his eyes at the sarcasm in Jack's tone, but Jack quickly added, "I gotta few ideas anyway. My guess is you've been puttin' one a' your boys on her. You already worried she's cheatin' with someone else?"

"Well, if she was seein' someone else, it wouldn't be cheatin'," Spot countered passively, "'Cause we ain't together."

Jack's eyes widened in honest shock, a heavy silence settling over the table. Finally Jack shook his head, raising his eyebrows as he said, "She ended things with me 'cause a you, Conlon."

"That ain't true an' you know it," Spot quickly refuted. "You ran around behind her back all the time—shit, sometimes right in front of her face. You don't think she noticed? Or cared? Give her more credit than that, Jack."

"Give me a little credit, why doncha," Jack challenged quietly. "Any idiot could see what was goin' on between the two a' you, Conlon."

"Yeah, well, I ain't interested in goin' over whatever the hell Kate and me's relationship was or wasn't," Spot said somewhat evasively, his eyes falling from Jack's steady stare. "I'm interested in gettin' your help. You still in contact with that kid Baletti?"

Jack quirked his head in surprise, muttering, "Kid Blink Baletti?" Upon noting Spot's steady nod, the Manhattaner shrugged and said, "Sure, I guess. I see 'im around, but we ain't too close no more. Especially now that he's a part a' that gang—the Italian group. I'm sure you've heard of 'em."

"The Fiore family," Spot confirmed quietly.

Jack looked expectantly at Spot. "So? What about him?"

"Well, seein' as my boy saw a couple a' those Fiore goons draggin' Kate off from her parents' place, I think we oughta pay good ol' Kid Blink a visit."

Jack's dark eyes widened to their fullest breadth while he stared silently at Spot. And as the reality of the situation that Kate was in seemed to settle uncomfortably over the table, Spot sighed, looking imploringly at his old friend. He felt his hands clenching into tight, desperate fists at his side before he said, "Somethin' bad's gonna happen to her if I don't find her. I know it in my bones. An' any angle I can use to get at more information, I'm gonna use. I gotta find 'er, Jack. I just—I gotta."

Jack remained quiet for a few moments longer before sighing heavily. "I'll probably regret sayin' this, but," he looked Spot in the eye meaningfully. "I'm in. What do ya need me to do?"