Chapter 4

Jarrod's meeting was set for ten o'clock the next morning. The Barkleys breakfasted together before he took off. Nick promised to be good while his big brother was gone, told Jarrod he was going to scope out the gambling houses but not lose much, if any money, this early in the day. Unsure as to when he would be finished with his work, Jarrod asked Nick to check back at the hotel at around 12:30, just in case, but then again at 5:00 if they hadn't met up by then. Then they went their separate ways.

There were many gambling houses in New Orleans – most of them not all that large. Faro, twenty-one and poker were the main games played, and Nick felt pretty competent at them all. What he didn't feel confident about was the honesty of any of these houses. Jarrod had warned him to beware of the house, as well as of the men who might follow him out if he won at any of the tables. Nick decided this day would be a good one to do his research, watch what was happening, watch who the players were this early in the day.

He found a good spot at a bar and settled in, able to watch a poker game to his left and a twenty-one table to his right. This early in the day, only the two tables were going, but Nick nursed a post-breakfast drink and kept a close eye on the proceedings. He didn't see any cheating going on at either table, but not a lot of money was changing hands either – it just seemed to be shifting around and settling back down where it started out. He watched more twenty-one than poker, mainly because he did not play the game very often. He was able to discern some of the strategies of the game. He even considered sitting in for a few hands, but then he checked his watch and saw it was nearly noon. He decided to head back to the hotel.

He came across several ladies plying their trade this early in the morning, gave them a smile and remembered where they were and who the best-looking ones were. He even flirted with one or two, but did not take them up on their offers. He was almost back at the hotel when he saw Jarrod heading that way, not far in front of him. He nearly called to him.

But Jarrod kept right on walking by the hotel. Then he turned a corner, and Nick realized something – that wasn't Jarrod.

Nick hustled down the street and turned the corner, but Jack Darby was gone already. He'd either turned another corner or entered some building somewhere, but he was gone. Nick turned to go to the hotel and immediately ran into Jarrod coming his way. "I was right behind you," Jarrod said. "Why did you take off in such a hurry down this way?"

Nick sighed. "I just saw Darby."

"No," Jarrod said, flabberghasted, then frustrated. "I was sure he wasn't in town."

"I just saw him go up Conti Street," Nick said, "but he got away from me."

"You weren't going to stop him and say hello, were you?"

"No. I just wanted to keep tabs on him."

"Did he see you?"

"I don't think so."

Jarrod sighed. "Well, at least we know where he is. Come on. Let's go around the corner to Arturo's and get something to eat – unless you already ate."

"Are you done for the day?"

Jarrod smiled. "Done for good. I just have to draw up the paperwork and take it to them in the morning. I'm borrowing one of their secretaries to type it tomorrow, we'll sign it and it will all be done. And I'll be on vacation with you, Brother Nick."

"Let's just hope Darby doesn't find his way into our vacation."

They went toward Arturo's together, but were stopped by a couple of ladies plying their trade on the corner. Nick smiled a flirty smile, but then one of the women hauled off and slapped Jarrod across the face. He was completely surprised and didn't have time to block it, but he thought, well at least she's left handed. "I'm not Jack Darby," he said quickly.

"The hell you're not," the girl said.

"Look," Jarrod said, beginning to get annoyed at the slaps he was getting. "Jack Darby is my cousin. We look alike. And if you were paying attention, you would have seen him go by just a minute ago and wearing different clothes than I'm wearing." Jarrod wasn't sure about the clothing part – he just used that as part of his defense.

The girls now hesitated. One of them glanced up the street.

Jarrod pushed his sleeve up. "I'll bet you know him well enough to know that he doesn't have this scar."

Now both the girls looked like they were believing him, but before they could say anything, Jarrod pushed his sleeve back down and walked on. Smirking a bit, tipping his hat to the girls, Nick followed along.

Nobody slapped Jarrod when they entered Arturo's and sat down, but Nick was still smirking. "It's not funny," Jarrod said. A waiter came and took their drink orders. Jarrod was feeling like he needed something like a Sazerac. Nick ordered one, too, even though he'd never had one.

"I'm sorry, Pappy," Nick said, laughing a bit. "But it is. And what's even funnier is that so many people in this town want Darby's blood."

Jarrod conceded that. "Our cousin creates havoc wherever he goes, but I'm tired of paying for it."

"Well, you can't help it if people mistake you for him. There's nothing he can do about it either. It's way too late for him to live a clean life."

"He's gonna get himself shot again one of these days," Jarrod said, remembering the shooting that brought Jack Darby into their lives back in California. "Or get me shot."

Nick said, serious now, "Yeah, I worry about that too, but I'll stick close now that your business here is just about done. Let's just enjoy our little vacation. Maybe nothing else will happen."

The waiter brought their drinks, and they began to relax. Once they ordered and were eating they were easing off even more. Nick asked, "So what are we going to do with ourselves today?"

"Did you scope out anything interesting this morning?" Jarrod asked.

"Couple of places," Nick said. "I wouldn't mind finding a good poker game or some twenty-one."

"Where did you check them out?"

"A little place on Canal, south of Chartres. I stopped at a place on Royal, too. They both looked fairly honest."

Jarrod chuckled. "Fairly honest may be the best we can get around here, but I know a place on Bourbon, in the Absinthe House hotel at Bienville. It's pretty clean. It gets lively early in the afternoon, really gets going later in the evening. Has good music anytime. Why don't we go check it out after we eat?"

"How about dinner tonight? I sure wouldn't mind a little female company."

"How much female company?"

Nick knew what Jarrod was asking. He smiled a little. "Maybe we ought to go back to the gentlemen's club we went to last night – in case I need a little protection."

Jarrod grinned. "Don't do anything around here without it, Brother Nick, and don't get your company off the street, no matter how pretty she is. Let's go do a little drinking and a little gambling. Then I'll take a break and finish the contract work I have to do, then we'll go over to that gentlemen's club and talk to Michael."

"The doorman? Is he the best contact?"

"Michael isn't the doorman for no reason. He collects information, passes it on to the bosses inside – but he still has the best recall of anybody around there. If you want certain female companionship, he can get you the kind that will keep you out of trouble, of any sort. But remember – you won't get her into the hotel – the club has a sort of an annex for 'companionship.' Let Michael take care of the place for you if the annex is full."

"What if all I want is company, not anything I need 'protection' for?"

"Michael can handle that too."

Nick shook his head. "And to think, Brother Jarrod. I used to look up to you as a paragon of virtue."

Now Jarrod laughed. "And you always scoff at my secret keeping. I keep a few of them for better reasons than others."

"Mother finding out?"

"Mother has no illusions about who her sons are," Jarrod said, "but we best not push it into her face. She can still whack us good, like she did when we were kids."

They enjoyed their lunch together, were happily fed and lubricated after an hour or so, and then got up to leave. Jarrod tipped generously as he paid the bill, and he and Nick left to head for that gambling house on Bourbon Street.

What they didn't notice was the man who had been sitting alone at a nearby table, who got up and followed them.