Suitor by Design

by Christine Johnson

  Embarrassment mixed with horror. What was she doing? Vince didn’t respond to emotional pleas. Not anymore. The old Vince might have, but he’d changed. If Peter had fallen in with him, he would have changed, too.

  “Minnie,” Peter pleaded, trying to tug her back. “Stop it. Vince doesn’t want to hear that kind of talk.”

  Vince’s lips curled into a sneer. “Naw. Let her talk. We could use a gal like her.” He gripped Minnie’s chin and forced her to look at him.

  Peter balled his fists. “Let her go.”

  Vince looked surprised. “Didn’t mean nothin’ by it, kid. Just gotta figure out what ta do with her. She wasn’t in the plans.” He patted her cheek.

  Peter gathered the now-frightened Minnie into his arms. “We let her go home.”

  “Can’t do that, kid. You know that.”

  Peter held her tighter. “Minnie has nothing to do with this, understand?”

  “C’mon, kid. A gal like that, all innocent, is just the ticket for us. Give her a Bible ta hold on to, and none of those revenuers would think ta stop us.”

  “You will not use her,” Peter growled, pulling her behind him just to be sure.

  Vince laughed. “What exactly you planning to do? Make her walk home?”

  “Drive her?” he croaked.

  Vince laughed. His henchmen joined in. Then Vince stopped. “No. Either she’s one of us, or she can say her prayers.”

  Peter felt Minnie tremble. He was trembling. God, I could use a little help here. And it’d sure be nice if You’d answer real quick.

  Pastor Gabe’s tale flickered to mind. What had he said? That he’d mistaken Felicity’s father for a bootlegger? What if the same was true for Vince? Peter had a tough time wrapping his mind around that, considering the way Vince was acting, but his old friend had called off the trigger-happy thugs. Maybe if Peter treated Vince as if he was honest, he’d act that way.

  Minnie had squeezed against his back so tightly that he felt the pounding of her racing heart. Somehow he had to calm her. Panic wouldn’t help them.

  He put his hands over hers, where they gripped around his waist. “Have faith,” he said loud enough for everyone to hear. “Nothing is impossible for those who love the Lord.” He hoped he got that scripture right or at least close enough.

  Vince sneered, “What happened ta ya, kid? Ya turn inta one of them Bible-thumpin’ preacher fellows? Maybe I better put ya in the backseat with the missus.”

  Though Peter’s legs wobbled with fear, he managed to reply. “Yes, I gave my life to Jesus Christ.”

  “You hear that, boys?” Vince guffawed. “We got us a born-again fool.”

  Humility. Pastor Gabe said that his pride had put Felicity in danger. Peter had to stay humble.

  He cleared his throat. “That’s right. I’m a fool, but I’m willing to work out a deal.”

  “You? Offer me a deal?” Vince screeched derisively. “You ain’t in no position to be makin’ deals.” His hand twitched near his holster.

  Despite the danger, Peter stood a little taller, his confidence growing as the plan grew clear. “Just hear me out. What you want is someone who’ll help your business. Sure, Minnie’s a pretty face, but she don’t know the ways of the world, if you know what I mean. She’s just a country girl.”

  Minnie kicked his shin from behind.

  “Wholesome and raised up in Sunday school,” Peter continued. “You aren’t gonna get much outta her except trouble, so why not let her go? I’ll join you. Do everything I can to help grow your business.” He heard her gasp, but he couldn’t explain. He might never be able to explain. “What you need is a mechanic and carpenter. I’m both. I’ll handle all the outfitting for you, get the vehicles ready, whatever you need...if you let Minnie go.”

  Vince narrowed his gaze, but his hand moved away from his holster. “She’ll talk.”

  “No, I won’t,” Minnie said from behind Peter.

  “She’ll never know where we went,” Peter said. “Leave her here.”

  Minnie squeaked and buried her face against his back. Her arms wrapped a little tighter yet.

  “Here?” Vince asked. He looked at the thick woods. “That just might work. The doll said she hid in the luggage compartment.” Vince grinned. “That means she didn’t see how ya got here.”

  “Right.” Peter held his breath. This just might work. It wasn’t the perfect solution, but at least Minnie would live.

  “Hey, Jacko. Get that rope outta the car.” Vince drew a silk handkerchief from his pocket. “You and me are gonna get the little lady ready for a good night’s sleep.”

  Peter wasn’t sure he liked the sound of that, yet something inside him said to trust. Pastor Gabe ended up having to trust the man he’d pegged a criminal. Peter wasn’t sure he could trust Vince, but he did trust God. The feeling that everything would turn out all right had to come from God. It sure didn’t come from Vince or his cronies.

  “God will be with you,” he whispered as he removed Minnie’s hands from around his midsection, “and I’ll come back for you.”

  She was shaking violently, so he slipped off his coat and placed it on her shoulders. She put her arms through the sleeves. It was huge on her, but at least she’d be warm.

  He allowed himself a single touch to her jaw. “Have faith.”

  Her eyes were wide, her face ashen in the moonlight. Her lower lip quivered, as if she was hovering between tears and wanting to tell him something.

  He couldn’t let fear be the last thing she saw in his eyes, so he leaned down and kissed her.

  Chapter Twenty

  “All right, doll,” Vince said. “It’s time ta go.” He yanked her from Peter’s grasp.

  This couldn’t be happening. She reached for Peter and silently pleaded for him to save her. He took a step toward her, but the thugs held him back. Peter mouthed something. He probably meant to encourage her, but nothing could cut the fear. The woods loomed dark and cold. How would Peter ever find her again?

  She resisted, and Vince tightened his grip until it hurt.

  “Ya go back ta the kid,” he warned, “and they’ll shoot ya.”

  Minnie’s heart thudded to a stop. Numb, she stumbled along as Vince dragged her into the woods. He didn’t take her far. In fact, Minnie could still see the two automobiles and the men milling about.

  “Hold out yer hands,” Vince growled.

  A voice in her head screamed to run, but Peter said he’d come back for her. If she left the area, he’d never find her. So she fought off instinct and held out her hands.

  Vince wrapped the coarse rope around her wrists several times and tied a knot. He then blindfolded her and pushed her against a tree. He pressed against her, and she shuddered at the thought of what he might do while she was defenseless. To think she’d once tried to attract his attention. What a fool she’d been! The real hero had been in front of her the whole time. A whimper threatened. She steeled herself for the worst. For Peter’s sake, she would not cry out.

  “Wait until after we leave,” Vince whispered in her ear.

  Minnie recoiled from his stale breath.

  He grabbed her chin and forced her face forward.

  She cringed at the thought of his lips pressing against hers. “Please don’t.” Her heart pounded in her ears. She prayed it would stop entirely before he did anything to her.

  Instead of feeling his lips on hers, his breath tickled her cheek. “Don’t make a sound. There’s a farmhouse a half mile back.”

  She lifted her hands to push him away, but he stepped back on his own. Her hands met air. A second later his footsteps crashed through the undergrowth.

  “Let’s get going, boys,” he barked out.

  Minnie’s legs gave out. She slid down the rough tree trunk until she sat on
the cold ground. The damp earth soaked through her skirt and stockings. She didn’t care. Vince Galbini hadn’t forced himself on her. Peter had promised to come back for her. She took deep gulps of air to steady her spinning head. She would survive.

  Would Peter?

  Soon they would leave, and Peter had promised to join Vince’s operation. Everyone except Peter had a gun. How would he ever get away from them to come back for her?

  Since Vince had tied her hands in front of her rather than behind her back, she could easily push up the blindfold. She looked around. One of the men was moving crates of something out of the ramshackle henhouse. Two men removed the seat cushion from the back of the Maxwell, while Peter and the other thug did the same with the Pierce-Arrow. Even from a distance, she could see that the crates would fit into the luggage compartments. It wouldn’t take long to finish the job. If she didn’t want to be left behind, she’d have to act quickly.

  She crept forward into a patch of moonlight. There, she noticed that Vince hadn’t tied the knot very tight. Using her teeth, she loosened the knot and slipped her hands from the rope. The coarse jute scraped the sensitive scar from when she’d cut her hand removing the battery cable on the Pierce-Arrow.

  She rubbed the irritated skin against her dress and planned her next move. Escaping had been easy. Now how could she stop Vince and save Peter?

  She crouched in the shadows behind a scraggly pine sapling. If any of the men shone a flashlight in her direction, he’d spot her, but she couldn’t find anything better. The plants hadn’t leafed out yet. She had to hope that they were more interested in carting off their cargo than checking on her.

  “I’ll drive the Maxwell,” Peter volunteered as he joined Vince outside the henhouse.

  “Good. Jacko, you take the other car.”

  Minnie pressed her sore hand to her lips and calculated her options. If she could stop the second car, then she could sneak into the Maxwell and escape with Peter. But how could she disable the Pierce-Arrow?

  All at once, the answer came. Her hand! Thanks to Peter and that cut, she knew exactly where to find the battery cable on the Pierce-Arrow and how to get it off. She’d need a wrench, but Peter’s toolbox was sitting outside the Maxwell, on the opposite side of the car from all the men. She could skirt the clearing in the shadows and grab the wrench. Then she’d come back around and disconnect the cable.

  Her plan had just one problem. She didn’t dare open the hood. On the other hand, she remembered leaning way over to reach the cable. Maybe she could get at it from under the car.

  She had to hope she could find it.

  * * *

  Peter had trouble thinking about what he had to do. Minnie was out there in the woods somewhere. It was getting real cold. There’d probably be frost. His fingers already ached. Even though she was wearing his coat, she’d never last the night. Somehow he had to get back to her.

  He wanted to go to her right now. Grab her and run.

  That would be stupid. Vince and his cohorts had guns. Vince might spare him, but those thugs wouldn’t.

  Peter felt sick.

  He didn’t want to think about what Vince might have done to Minnie. His friend’s parting words, that he’d get Minnie ready for a nice long sleep, ran over and over in his head, like a moving picture with only one frame.

  Vince couldn’t have taken her far. He hadn’t been gone all that long. Neither had Peter heard a thing. Minnie hadn’t cried out. No gunshot. Vince might have conked her over the head, though. She might be bleeding to death.

  Peter had to get away from these men. At least Vince had agreed to let him drive the Maxwell. It wasn’t as fast as the Pierce-Arrow, and there was no way they’d let him trail them to their destination, but maybe he could outdrive the thugs and then double back for Minnie.

  He glanced back at the overgrown road. If only Fallston would show up. He’d have his proof, and Peter could fetch Minnie.

  He had to stall them until Fallston arrived, but how? Peter didn’t have any means to slow the crooks down. Someone like Reggie Landers might joke around and get the guys distracted. A good speaker like Pastor Gabe would try to talk sense into the men. Peter didn’t have any of that. He couldn’t even pull a gun on them.

  Use your faith.

  The thought needled him, but how could faith help? Vince had laughed at him the last time he mentioned it. Compared to guns, faith seemed puny. Then again, a shepherd boy had killed a giant with five small stones and some mighty big faith. If it had worked for David, maybe it could work for him. Still, what could he say? He wasn’t Pastor Gabe. Then again, the Bible said that the Holy Spirit gave the disciples the words they needed. He had a tough time believing that could happen nowadays, but maybe if he got Vince talking, he could slow him down.

  “Hey, Vince.” Peter hurried to join him after helping remove the Maxwell’s seat. “How’d you meet up with this Capone fellow?”

  If Vince was suspicious, he didn’t show it. “Through channels, kid, like you’re doin’ now. Play your cards right, and you might get noticed, too.”

  Peter helped lug a case out of the henhouse. From the weight and jiggling sound, he had little doubt the crates contained liquor.

  After setting it down, he pretended to be winded. “Whew. Not used to hefting this kinda weight.”

  That drew Vince’s skepticism. “Thought you were a mechanic, kid.”

  Peter cringed. He should have known better than to try that ploy. He coughed. “Maybe I’m getting a touch of a cold. It’s been running through the kids at home lately.”

  Vince bought that. “Kids are good for that. Leave the hauling to the boys. We’ll get ’er knocked out in no time.”

  “Yeah.” Disappointed, Peter tugged on his cap. Instead of slowing things down, he’d got them to speed up. He had to try something different. Maybe if he shot straight to the heart of the matter. “Don’t see how this little bit’s gonna bring in much money.”

  Vince laughed. “This ain’t home brew, kid. This is prime whiskey from across the border.”

  Peter’s skin prickled. Fallston and the sheriff had guessed right. “That’s a long way away. How’d you get it all the way here?”

  Vince tapped his coat pocket, where he’d stowed the rewrapped notebook. “I got my connections, too.” He clapped Peter on the back. “Stick with me, kid. We’re going places.”

  Peter hated to think where those places were. Jail. Prison. Death. Eternal damnation.

  Have faith. He’d told Minnie that. Maybe it was time he followed his own advice. Vince had started to walk away to supervise the loading of the liquor.

  Peter trotted after him. “What happened to you, Vince?”

  His friend whipped around, his expression wary. “What d’ya mean?”

  “In New York. You were different then. You went to church and cared about the kids. I looked up to you. You showed me I could do something decent. Respectable.”

  Vince’s expression hardened. “Decent don’t put food on the table.”

  “But your faith—”

  He jabbed a finger into Peter’s chest. “I give more than a tithe to the local church, so don’t you go telling me that I’m not pulling my fair share. Now shut up and get to work.”

  The conversation was over, and still no federal agents were in sight.

  * * *

  While Peter talked to Vince, Minnie crawled underneath the Pierce-Arrow, wrench in hand. Since it was dark, she had to guess the cable’s approximate location and feel around until she found it. That took too long.

  Her first attempt landed on something round and covered in grease and dirt.

  “Yuck,” she muttered before catching herself.

  Next she found something square, but there weren’t any cables coming off of it. This was not going well.

&nbs
p; Worse, one of the thugs approached with a flashlight, which he was waving all over the place. The beam of light danced between the car, the ground and the trees. At any moment, it would land on her.

  Minnie pulled her feet in and prayed he wouldn’t see her. She held her breath. One, two, three...

  The man stopped at the open rear door. “Put it in on this side. We’ll go around with the next one.”

  Oh, no. She had to find that battery cable before they came back with the next crate. She looked up, and the beam of the flashlight shone at the perfect angle to reveal the battery. It was within reach, but it had two cables. Fiddlesticks. Peter had said something about making sure she took them off correctly, but she didn’t remember which came first.

  “Hope it’ll start this time,” one of the men said. “Want me ta try it?”

  Minnie yanked her hand away at the thought of electricity pulsing through her when he started the car. Then the beam of light moved, and she realized she’d better stick her hand near the battery before she lost its location.

  “Naw,” the other man said. “No need. We got a mechanic now.”

  Minnie let her breath out slowly.

  The two men moved off, taking the flashlight with them.

  Now Minnie had to unhook the battery cable without any light at all. She felt along the length of the cable until she reached the end that attached to the battery. If she did something wrong, she could get hurt. She remembered that much. And it had to do with the wrench, but she didn’t know exactly what. After a quick prayer, she felt around and found the bolt. It was loose!

  Thank You, Lord. No wrench was needed. She yanked off the cable.

  Before the thugs returned, she scooted out from under the car and inched up the door to check where the men were. Vince and one of the thugs were hauling a crate to the Maxwell while Peter set aside his pillowcase of clothing. The other two thugs had just picked up a crate and would soon head back here. There were just two crates left outside the henhouse.