Secrets & Lies (14 page)

Darn, darn, darn!

Sometimes I wish I was more comfortable cursing like the guys in the gym!

Damn, damn, damn!

There. Did cursing make me feel better?

Nope.

T
HE
P
RESENT

I flew to New York City today. Jesus, how many times was I going to travel to New York in one year because of my unpredictable daughter? This was the third trip in six months.

After getting that tuition refund from Juilliard, Carol and I frantically tried to reach Gina on the phone, to no avail. We were really starting to get worried and I considered calling that NYPD detective, Ken Jordan, who had helped with her cases in the past; but then Gina finally returned Carol's call. I suppose it's a good thing she spoke to Carol and not me, or it wouldn't have been pretty.

Gina dropped out of school without telling us. Unbelievable. She had registered for the spring semester, I'd paid for it, and then she canceled everything before classes began. And that's not the worst of it. She moved out of the dormitory and was now living with a boyfriend. Her Krav Maga instructor. Some guy named Josh. She told Carol she wanted to concentrate on Krav Maga “full time” and become an instructor in martial arts.

On hearing the news, I had to take a tranquilizer and chase it with a glass of vodka. I was
very
angry. I loved my daughter, but I wanted to strangle her.

Maggie helped me cool down and suggested that Carol and I should maybe go back to New York and talk to Gina in person. Carol, however, couldn't get away from her job at such short notice like she
did before, so it was up to me. I asked Sam if I could have a few days off, and he didn't mind. “Family always comes first,” was his mantra. I didn't know what I was going to accomplish, but at least I'd see Gina, meet her boyfriend, and try to talk some sense into her.

I also figured I could take care of another mission while I was in the city. Before I left Chicago, I talked with Uncle Thomas. He located Betty Dinkins and gave me her address. The woman lived on West 47th Street, between 9th and 10th Avenues. It was an area once known as “Hell's Kitchen”—maybe it still was, although supposedly it was a lot nicer now than twenty or thirty years ago. In other words, despite being close to the Theater District, it was one of the more run-down sections of Manhattan. I figured that if Dinkins had lived there a long time, then she probably wasn't the richest woman in the city. No wonder she was claiming to be the Black Stiletto. She was just trying to make a buck. I still thought someone had put her up to it, that son or another relative. I intended to find out.

The Empire Hotel across from Lincoln Center was my usual stomping grounds when I visited the city. I checked in and immediately tried calling Gina. She knew I was on my way to see her, so this time she picked up promptly.

“Hi, Dad.”

“Gina, honey, we need to talk.”

“I know. You really didn't have to come all the way to New York, you know.”

“Yes, I did. Where are you?”

“I'm at the studio. Why don't you come by? You can meet Josh and see what it is I'm doing.”

“Fine.”

She gave me the directions—it was a short walk—and I set out to confront my wayward daughter. The place was called, simply, “Krav Maga,” and was located on Broadway between 69th and 70th Streets. It was a small place tucked between a pizza joint and a dry cleaner. Through the front plate-glass window I saw a brightly lit room resembling a ballet studio. There were mirrors on opposite
walls, and a large mat covering the floor. Doors in the back led, presumably, to dressing rooms/bathrooms and an office.

Gina was on the mat, sparring with a young man with brown curly hair, a beard and mustache, and more muscles than I thought were humanly possible. She was dressed in sweatpants and one of those sleeveless sports-bra tops that exposed her midriff. She was barefoot and her long brown hair was tied in a ponytail. I'd never seen Gina look so buff before.

I stood and watched for a while as the couple went through some drills and exercises. I'd read up on Krav Maga before coming to New York. It was an Israeli self-defense system, and practitioners didn't really like to refer to it as a “martial art” because it existed solely for protecting oneself. There were no sporting rules with Krav Maga. Apparently anything went, for the goal was to quickly and efficiently neutralize an opponent. The Israeli Defense Forces trained with Krav Maga. Unlike the Asian martial arts, Krav Maga was intentionally brutal and aggressive, combining defensive maneuvers with decisive counterattacks. It was hard to believe my little girl wanted to do it, and she was demonstrating that she
could
. She'd never been particularly sporty, except with gymnastics when she was younger. Back then, what appealed to Gina was all the attention she'd get from being in show business, or so she thought. Whether or not she was a good actress or dancer, I couldn't really say. When I saw her high school things, she was okay. I wasn't big on that kind of stuff anyway. But there she was inside the “studio” learning to be a lethal weapon.

Why
?

Even though it wasn't particularly cool outside, I felt a sudden chill.

Gina was becoming my mother.

The couple stopped what looked to me like a lot of choreographed grappling. As they took a breather, my daughter spied me through the window. She smiled and waved as if there was nothing wrong with that picture. I met her at the door.

“Dad, it's good to see you! Gosh, you've lost some weight!”

“Glad you noticed.” I immediately hugged her. “Are you all right, honey?”

It was a genuine embrace. And I felt unusual strength in her arms.

“Of course I'm all right, I'm
great
.”

I held her at arm's length and I must admit—she looked marvelous. A complete change from the last few times I'd seen her, especially post-assault. While she did a great job presenting to the world how quickly she “got over it,” I'd known there was something still missing. With her standing before me, I figured out what it was.

She was beaming with happiness. Absolutely
glowing
. And she looked so pretty—despite the sweat and clothing—and I knew there was no way I could yell at this girl, make her feel bad for disappointing her mother and me, and bring her back to the real world.

It wasn't going to happen.

“Well, you look great,” I managed to reply.

“Dad, I want you to meet Josh.”

The young man stood nearby. Our eyes met and he approached me with an outstretched hand.

“I'm pleased to meet you, sir.”

We shook and I said, “Likewise, Josh. Pardon me, what's your last name again?”

“Feldstein, Daddy,” Gina said. “Josh Feldstein, meet my dad, Martin Talbot.”

“How are you?”

“I'm fine, sir.”

I had thought he was a young man, closer to Gina's age, but up close I could see the years in his slightly toughened skin and worldly eyes. This guy wasn't much younger than me. I could see why Gina was attracted to him, though. He was handsome and certainly fit. The muscles practically rippled over his body.

“How old are you, Josh?” I asked without thinking.

“Dad!” Gina blurted. “Gee whiz—”

Josh laughed and said, “It's all right, Gina, I don't mind. Mr. Talbot, I'm thirty-nine years old.”

“He'd have to be, Dad, he's a Black Belt Dan Three.”

“Is that good?”

“Dad, it's expert-level Krav Maga. It takes sixteen years to get where Josh is. He first started learning it during his military service.”

“You're from Israel?” I asked him. He didn't have a foreign accent.

“I was born there, sir, in Jerusalem. But then my parents emigrated here when I was a baby. I actually have dual citizenship. I grew up in Yonkers, but I go back to Israel often to see family. I chose to fulfill my military service there. I'm glad I did.”

“Are you hungry, Dad? We just finished our lesson. We could go somewhere nice.”

“No, Gina, I'm not, but I was hoping I could talk to you alone for a bit.” I turned to Josh. “If you don't mind, Josh.”

“Not at all, sir. Gina, I'll be in the office.” He gave me a friendly smile and then walked across the mat and through a door.

“Dad, that was kind of rude,” Gina said.

“I'm sorry, but I think we need to talk about this, and not in front of him, Gina.”

“All right. You want to sit down?” She motioned to some folding chairs along the side of one wall.

“Sure.” We went over and sat. “Gina—”

“Dad,” she held up a hand, “I'm sorry I didn't tell you or Mom about dropping out. I am. I was afraid you'd be really mad and I hate it when you're mad at me.”

“Gina, honey, your mother and I love you, no matter what. You know that, right?”

Tears formed in her eyes. “I don't know. I guess.”

“Of course, we do. But that said,
yes
, we're a little mad at you. We don't like being taken by surprise. No parent does.”

“I talked to Mom and she's sort of okay with it now.”

“When did you talk to her?”

“This morning.”

“What'd she say?”

“That she hoped I knew what I was doing, but she'd support me in my decision.” That was news to me. “But I am sorry I caused you any grief, Dad. I was afraid to tell you. I know you have that anxiety thing and I didn't want to make that worse. I don't know, I thought maybe so much time would go by and when I eventually told you then it wouldn't matter. It was dumb.”

“But why, Gina? Tell me why you want to do—” I looked around the room—”
this
.”

“I don't know, Dad, something happened to me last fall, and I'm not just talking about the assault. Well, that may have been the beginning of it, but I started re-examining my life and what I wanted to do with it. After I was attacked, school just seemed so pointless. Acting and dance—that's all wonderful, but I suddenly couldn't see myself doing it. I'm sorry, Dad, I know I put you through hell regarding my choice of college and my major, and here I am ditching it. But I assure you, what I'm doing now means a lot to me and I have a clear vision of the future.”

“Really? Do you?”

“Yes.”

“Then what is it?”

“Dad, it's too complicated to go into right here, right now. How long are you in town?”

“I'm not sure. It's supposed to be a quick in-and-out.”

“Well, can we talk about it another time? Can't we just be together for now? I really want you to get to know Josh. He's a great guy.”

“He certainly could give the Hulk a run for his money. I take it he's Jewish?”

“Does that matter?”

“No, of course not.” I gestured to the empty studio. “Where are all the other students?”

“There aren't that many. Josh teaches a very specialized course. He trains us one-on-one. There aren't any classes right now, but I train eight hours a day, Dad. I'm serious about it.”

“Eight hours a day? How can your body stand it? Isn't that like exercising all day?”

“Well, yeah, it is. That's what professional athletes do.”

“So you're an athlete now?”

“No, Dad, but I'm training in a very physical skill. And guess what? I'm
good
at it. I've been progressing faster than anyone Josh has ever seen. I'm already a yellow belt, and it usually takes nine months to get one. I started six months ago, and I've been doing it intensively for only four. It actually won't be long before I'll have an orange belt, and that usually takes a whole year to get.”

I was dizzy from all the information. It was totally foreign to me. She may as well have been speaking Swahili. “So, what, do you go to the Olympics or something? Join the Israeli army?”

She laughed. “No, but it's possible I'll be able to use my ability in my work.”

“What do you mean?”

Gina shook her head. “Look, never mind, just know that this isn't costing me anything. I'm living with Josh, so my expenses are practically nothing. I help out here in the studio, and Josh pays me a small salary, too. I'm basically being paid to train.”

“Your boyfriend is also your boss and your teacher?”

She shrugged. “It's not as weird as it sounds.”

“And what happens if you two break up? Then are you out on the street?”

“I don't think that's going to happen. So, how about dinner? Are you hungry? I'm starved, and I'll bet Josh is, too. You won't have to treat, Josh will. He said he wanted to.”

“That's not—Gina, this is all so sudden—and
different
.”

She gave me the smile that melted hearts of males everywhere, including her own father's. “I know. But I swear to you, I'm happier than I've ever been.”