Free Noble Intentions: Season Four by L.T. Ryan Page A

the first couple trees. The
    detective's words trailed off as Charles trudged on in search of a crowd to get lost in.
     

Chapter 12
    New York City.

    JACK LEFT HIS apartment around two in the afternoon without a clear set of plans for how he'd spend the rest of the day. Of the people he knew remaining
    in the city, there was little desire to visit any of them. With that crowd came problems. Problems with the law. Problems with people opposed to the law.
    Unforeseen problems. Laying low would work out better than inviting unwanted attention into his life.
    But even low had its limits. And Jack had reached it.
    Today saw no respite from the heat. Same for the humidity. If anything, it felt worse. Within a block, he regretted wearing pants. But he didn't turn back.
    A little distance would be a good thing and there was only one way to get it.
    He stopped into a local deli to cool off, then negated the effect by having a grilled sub followed by two cups of black coffee. The brew had been on the
    burner too long and left a bitter aftertaste. The waitress left it off the bill even though Jack hadn't complained.
    After eating, he cut through Central Park, westbound, and visited the American Museum of Natural History. In his teenage years, he'd narrowed down his
    college selections based on their archeology programs. Florida State had the program he wanted. And they were willing to offer him a full football
    scholarship. The Marines won. Even though post-secondary education wasn't in the cards, Jack's interest in pre-history never faded.
    And he much preferred it to current technology, despite his recent somewhat successful attempts to learn more.
    Exiting the museum, he spotted a man positioned across the street. The guy looked out of place, like he'd forced himself to dress like a tourist, but was
    uncomfortable without fatigues and shoulder and thigh holsters. The guy glanced in Jack's direction. Wasn't much, but it lasted a hair too long. Jack
    merged into the steady stream of pedestrian traffic, headed west on 77th, away from the guy, then north on Columbus. Twice he glanced back at the man. The
    first time, the guy remained perched on the stairs leading into a clothing shop. Jack tried to convince himself that the man was waiting outside while his
    wife shopped. A bead of sweat streamed down Jack's cheek.
    Who waits outside on a day like this?
    His second glance revealed that the man had started moving west as well. And it also yielded a flash of recognition. He'd seen him in the Park. Thought
    nothing of it at the time. He saw lots of people in the park. Why hadn't the guy stood out then? He recalled the countless faces he'd passed since then.
    Impossible to store them all in accessible memory. For all Jack knew, the guy'd been tailing him since he left the apartment. Maybe even before that. Maybe
    since the odd meeting yesterday morning.
    Columbus was one-way and ran south. A cab would take him right past the guy. On the one hand, he'd get a better look. On the other, it'd do the same for
    the man tailing him.
    If he still followed along.
    Jack ignored the incessant itch to look back.
    At 81st, he turned right, headed east, quickening his pace. Traffic stood still in the middle of the street. Jack cut across mid-block, weaving past front
    and rear bumpers. Once on the other side, he darted under the dark blue awning of The Excelsior Hotel. The circular rotating front door offered no
    resistance. As the pane of glass behind him cut him off from the outside world, he glanced back, searching through the maze of vehicles and pedestrians,
    looking for the guy who'd watched him.
    Had Jack lost him? Or had he given up after being made?
    In the mirror, the reflection of two employees dressed in khaki slacks and white shirts hovered around ten or so feet behind Jack. Both covered their
    mouths with their outer hands as they spoke. Their words were indecipherable, but the mirror images of the men were clear enough that he saw their