He stared, open mouthed at the giant structure of the red bridge. His eyes were wide his open mouth was smiling. "This is amazing! An architectural marvel!" Nick went onto to say, gesturing to it as if it would stand and take a bow after showing some sort of talent on a stage. Gatsby stood not too far away with a hat low on his brow and smiling at it too, though with less awe like he had seen it a hundred times before. Perhaps he had in Nick's view- though he knew Gatsby was only a man from the Midwest and his family was truly farmers, he did not know whether Gatsby had actually been to San Francisco before- and if he had- he was acting very well that this was home to him.
Nick, for a moment, wished he had not been from his family had been. That he had taken his life by the reigns like Gatsby and changed his life the way he wanted. Though he realized in that same moment, that he had never really had any complaints until recently because he had decided to stop Wilson. He had always had plenty of money, gone to the best schools, gotten good work- even though he had had to ask his family's permission- there was still a rift between him Gatsby that had been created by fate and a bank account. He had never thought about it before that he had never gone through the things that Gatsby had. He had never pined after a girl, dealt with a drunkard such as Dan Cody, and most definitely never had to work and sometimes starve on a farm. His eyes turned to him and Gatsby raised his eyebrows. "What's the matter, old sport?"
He shook his head, "Nothing… Just thinking that you are quite dauntless." Nick turned away from him to look upon the bridge again. Gatsby didn't say anything for a moment or two before thanking him and recommending lunch. He wanted to agree, though wondering how the man could think about getting food when they were in search of jobs and let alone a hotel to stay in. He had his suitcase by his side as he walked with Gatsby down the main street of San Francisco not too long after their sightseeing. Gatsby seemed at ease more than Nick was, smiling and dipping his hat at a few people who smiled back and greeted him. "You've been here before?" Nick asked a few inches behind him and Gatsby nodded, "Of course, old sport. I've been all over this country. Business, you understand. Which we'll be soon in again and making money. Don't worry, I had a plan coming here." Nick muttered that he hadn't been worried as much as in the dark about the situation before following him into a hotel that seemed far out of the price range of his existing wallet.
Gatsby paid for an apartment for a week and they went up. Two bedrooms and an ideal view- which was no surprise at that point. If it were only one thing that Nick Carraway knew about Jay Gatsby, it was that he liked the finer things in life and had worked too hard to not have it. Which, how could one blame him, with what he had inferred about him. Nick moved to sit on the couch after putting his things away, Gatsby taking up the armchair with his legs crossed. It was cold now and he ordered room service. Nick nodded that he agreed to what he ordered- it was French so he agreed though not knowing what it really was. "What were you talking about when you mentioned about you had a plan for our working?" Gatsby shrugged his shoulders, a long fluid motion that seemed too simple an act for him. "We're Californians now, old sport. We have to work with them and go on with our lives. I have a friend of ours meeting us for lunch, he'll be glad to know that I'm continuing to work with him. Meaning the man who saved my life will be graciously welcomed into the circle."
Nick was silent for a moment, "And this circle… it's illegal, isn't it." Gatsby took a look on his face, similar to the one he'd given Tom when he had called him a bootlegger so long ago. In that moment, Gatsby knew he had to lie to keep Nick focused on their goal. "My business is in the act of transporting alcohol, yes. That is temporarily illegal. In California, it's not. It's cheap, helps the economy and keeps us off the street along with many other people, old sport." The younger waved him off, "I was just asking if I had to worry about jail here as well. I understand what alcohol does for the economy and… at this point, I'm not sure if I mind going into the business now." His morals had certainly been tested lately and now here was, doing something illegal in most states. Oddly enough, he didn't feel as honest as once thought himself to be- nor did he feel regret for just technically telling him he would be more than happy to join his 'circle'. His eyes looked away from Gatsby who nodded his understanding to a point but didn't verbally answer him. There was a knock on the door and Gatsby stood, straightening his pearl colored suit and opened the door. Meyer Wolfshiem dipped his hat to Gatsby and Nick, two others of his associates- one Nick recognized from Gatsby's house and the other was a woman that he didn't recognize- entered in behind. "Nasty business, Mr. Gatsby. Nasty business. Entire New York is looking for you and I'm almost afraid of working with you with how much heat you've got on your tail." He told Gatsby in a deep aggravated accent. "You calling me across the country for this meeting isn't orthodox either."
He seemed to remember Nick and touched the woman's shoulder. Her long blond hair was draped down her back. She looked oddly familiar but yet... she was completely different than the wild woman I had met in the apartment so very long ago. "Cathy darling, take care of Mr. Carraway while Mr. Gatsby and I speak." She nodded, her face familiar to him but knowing where from. He was standing and she gripped his arm, pulling him toward one of the rooms. He tried to pull his grip from her, but her nails went into his skin. "You should follow me." She whispered to him, pulling him into the room and shutting the door behind her. Cathy was dressed in male's clothing, a clean cut and pin striped suit. A pistol came out of her jacket and he put his hands up, backing away from her slowly, "If you are smart, Mr. Carraway, you won't call for Gatsby." Her voice was soft behind full pink lips. Her hazel eyes cut into his. "My name is Catherine… I'm Myrtle's sister." She came closer, pushing him down on the bed, the gun pointed at his chest still. "I'm going to ask you a question. And if I don't like your answer, then I'm going to kill you. If I do. You will live. Simple." She said the last word with a elongated syllables, like it was to comfort him.
"Did Jay Gatsby kill my sister and her husband?" Nick swallowed. Of course, he could say yes and be cleared for everything. If Catherine was a part of what he thought she was- which made since. Of course Wolfshiem would use a woman to do his dirty work, who would suspect a woman?- she had the power to clear his slate now he could return to New York without any trouble. But on the other hand… He'd be betraying his friend- the only one helping at the moment and he didn't even know the name of the hotel they were in- for a crime he didn't commit. His voice stalled a moment and Catherine put the gun to his forehead. "NO!" He nearly shouted then said softer, "No, he didn't kill either of them." Was suddenly Gatsby the most innocent man he knew? Strange.
Catherine paused, "Then who did." Nick swallowed, he couldn't say Daisy. He just couldn't. His eye went wide and she narrowed her own. "The yellow car only had Jay Gatsby and Daisy Buchanan inside. If he didn't kill her. That means Mrs. Buchanan did. I don't really care about George, the liar got what he deserved though... it makes sense that he went to kill Gatsby and you stopped him since you would be the only one around at the time..." He couldn't hold the look of shock on his face as she figured it out with pure logic in seconds while the police was still baffled. Catherine smiled and backed away, gun descending. Just by the look on his face she knew she'd guessed right, "That's all I needed. Thank you for your cooperation, Mr. Carraway. I'll make sure Meyer rewards you greatly for it." She left before he could say anything else.
Gatsby came in a while later, saying nothing and sat down beside him. He looked pale and so did Nick. "I supposed they threatened to kill you too?" Nick asked Gatsby with a tight voice, Gatsby nodded. "Apparently the past does come back to haunt you…" he looked down at his hand, "And you most certainly… can't turn back time." He sighed putting his face in his hands. A ball of stone had formed in Nick's gut. He thought about Daisy and hoped to God she had gone far out of the country. Far… far… out of the country.