Jack closed out of IMDB and went to Facebook. He went to the "celebrity" page of Colt Lancaster which was long out of date, but filled with pictures from those same past productions. He scrolled back to the top and typed in Jonathan Clark. Several faces appeared and he concentrated on those in New York and L.A. He found one that looked like an older, pinched version of the man in question. He then went to his e-mail and opened the pic of the guy Mikey had sent him.
"OK, look at this one." He showed Demarco the pic that Mikey had taken at B.J.s "Now here," he toggled back to the Jonathan Clark Facebook profile.
"It's the same guy."
"For sure. He used his personal credit card in Virginia yesterday. Kip said it won't be much longer."
"Look at his face," said Demarco. "He's had work."
"Yeah... and he's not that old. Much better looking before the surgery. People are so stupid."
"You're not. That's amazing how you just rat-a-tat-tatted on your phone and found all that stuff so fast."
Jack shrugged. "Not really. Kip had already told me most of it. I'm just showing you."
"Well, I'm still impressed."
"If you ever want to know anything, D, go to Facebook first. People are vain... addicted to immediate gratification... dopamine..." He rolled his eyes. "Don't get me started."
"I like it when you call me D. Only one other person does that."
"Do I need to fight him?"
"No," Demarco said, pushing at Jack. "It's Alec—my best friend. You'll meet him."
"Will I?"
"Why wouldn't you?"
"Well," Jack said, a little sing-song. "Kip could be close to solving this. Soon you'll no longer require a bodyguard."
"And..." Demarco said, not needing to finish. He knew where Jack was going. Neither of them had forgotten the invisible, yet ever-present elephant in the room.
"You have your work," Jack said. "I have mine."
"So that's it?" Demarco said, mock-indignantly. "Just cast me aside, like the hooker I am."
"I didn't say that."
"No. You didn't. But that's where this bus is going."
Jack started to speak, then closed his mouth avoiding stammer. When he opened it again, he said, "I see things neat and clean, D. I'm a problem solver—somewhat meticulous that way. I'm just having trouble wrapping my head around this whole escort thing."
Demarco mirrored the calm approach... pacing his words carefully. "You said you would try. Why the whole about-face?"
"It's me. I know. I own it. I'm just a jealous guy."
"John Lennon."
"Yeah," Jack said, smiling. "I have a problem sharing you with others."
"It's like acting, Jack. I'm only with them physically... as a character. It's not really me. Only you will know the real me."
Jack said nothing, but internal conflict was visible in his eyes.
Demarco continued, "I know other escorts that are in healthy relationships, Jack. One of them is a woman.... not that it really makes any difference. I just want you to see that it can work—does work—in multiple scenarios."
"I don't know, D... there is just something deep down in me that's very resistant to the idea."
