His grandfather set down the jar he was holding and pulled off his glasses.
Daniel pressed his hands against the pharmacy counter for strength. “It’s time you knew the truth.”
40
I don’t understand it,” Johnny said. “He’s been too quiet.”
Laurie pushed open Amelia’s screen door with her hip, balancing a tray filled with a pitcher of lemonade and four glasses. “Can’t we just be thankful for that? Maybe he’s realized booze isn’t the answer.” She set the drinks on a small wrought-iron table.
Daniel took a glass. “It’s too soon for that. And I agree with Johnny. It was too easy.”
Johnny accepted the glass from Amelia’s hand. “He hasn’t called to ask for more whiskey in over a week now.”
Daniel nodded. “And he never questioned my grandfather when he told him that Dr. Pierce revoked his prescription.”
Breathing in the heady fragrance of the roses climbing the trellis beside the porch, Laurie sank down onto the bench swing, wishing she could enjoy the newfound peace in her life. But the peace felt artificial—like the eerie stillness before the first jagged bolt of lightning. “I haven’t even seen him since the morning I left.”
Amelia lifted her glass to her lips. “I think Laurie’s leaving may have been the incentive he needed. Maybe he’s decided to dry out on his own.”
Johnny curled his lip. “It’s going to take more than that to make him give up the bottle. He’s been drinking since before the war. If I had a dime for every bottle he downed, I’d be a rich man.”
Laurie’s heart wrenched at his bitterness. She had to believe there was still hope for their father. “So what do you think is going on?”
Johnny took a long swig of the lemonade. “I think he’s got a new supplier. I just can’t figure out who it’d be—the boys and I are pretty much the only game in town and they swore they weren’t selling none to him.”
Daniel leaned back and stretched his arm along the back of the porch swing. “And you believe them?”
“They got no reason to lie to me.”
Laurie tried to focus on the conversation, only slightly distracted by Daniel’s arm mere inches from her shoulder. Apparently he wasn’t brazen enough to put his arm around her in front of her brother. The thought brought a smile in spite of her somber mood.
Daniel cleared his throat. “What about moonshine? Sheriff Martinson came by yesterday and said that they’d broken up a still over on the west side last weekend and another out at the old Westerfield barn.”
Amelia frowned. “Do you think he’d go that far?”
A chill swept over Laurie. The papers were full of stories of people sickened or blinded by drinking bad moonshine.
“Sure he would.” Johnny leaned against the porch rail. “In a heartbeat.”
Laurie moved the cords and switches in a trance. The voices blurred together, her hands working without much help from her head. Sleeping on a makeshift pallet in Amelia’s room, Laurie missed the comfort of her own bed, but at least she slept without fear.
Except for the nightmares. She kept seeing Johnny floating face down in the water, his limp body rising and falling with the gentle lapping of the waves. She pushed the image away. “What number, please?”
“Laurie—it’s me.” Johnny’s voice spoke into her earpiece.
She gasped, the cord trembling in her fingers. Glancing around, she lowered her voice to a whisper. “Why are you calling here? You know I can’t—”
“Laurie, Dad never showed up for his shift last night. I’m at the house—you need to come.”
Sweat broke out under her collar. “Now? I can’t—I—”
“Bring Daniel, if you can.”
Her stomach rolled at the quaver in his voice. The connection went dead, sending Laurie surging to her feet. She ripped off her headset.
All the women in the room turned, eyes wide. Mr. Quinn’s head jerked up, his perpetually pinched face widening into a gaping stare.
“I’m sorry.” She dashed across the floor, the sounds of her hurried steps echoing through the quiet room.
Laurie bolted out of the switchboard exchange and sprinted for the pharmacy. The bell pealed as she burst through the door. Marcie gasped and juggled a glass in her hand. At the pharmacy counter, Mr. Larson lifted his head, brows raised.
“Daniel?” Laurie yelped, blinking to keep the tears at bay.
He poked his head from the storeroom, mouth open. “Laurie?”
“My father.”
Not now. Please, not now. Daniel threw open the Buick’s hood as he clenched his jaw. Recalling Johnny’s mechanics lesson before their lake trip, he peered into the motor, located the wires, and gave them a quick jiggle. Sure enough, one was disconnected. He pulled it up between his finger and thumb. “Now, where does it go?”
He eyed the machine, wishing he had spent more time learning how it functioned. He fastened the wire back into a likely looking spot, he leaned away from the hood and nodded to Laurie. She reached for the ignition. With a loud backfire, the engine jerked to a start.
Daniel closed the hood with a sigh of relief and climbed into the driver’s seat. “Your brother might just make a mechanic out of me yet.” Laurie’s pale, tear-stained face made it difficult for him to breathe. “Johnny didn’t say anything else?”
She lifted her hands, chin trembling. “Just ‘come.’ ”
He reached for the throttle. “No time to waste, then.”
Laurie’s knees weakened as she stared at the metal drums, containers, and copper tubing strewn across her living room. The sour smell burned her sinuses, sending her eyes watering. Even with the window standing open, the house was hot and steamy—worse than when she and Amelia spent all weekend canning peaches and pears.
“What . . .” She didn’t need to finish the question. She already knew the answer. Tears sprang to her eyes.
Sweat dripped down Johnny’s face and stained his shirt. “I got here an hour ago and found it. There are different barrels in the bedroom—looks like wood alcohol from the mill.”
Daniel appeared in the doorway, his eyes wide.
Johnny turned and faced the still. “I thought he’d find someone else making moon. I never dreamed he’d try it himself.”
The mixture of emotions in Laurie’s heart simmered, a burning sensation exploding in her chest. “What is wrong with the men in this family?” She kicked the door shut. She started toward the contraption, determined to tear it apart with her bare hands.
Daniel caught her wrist and dragged her back. “Can’t you feel the heat coming off it? And who knows what kind of nasty compounds are bubbling around in there?”
Johnny stood between her and the still. “I’ve already shut it down, Laurie. Drinking is one thing, but I ain’t going to let him burn the house down trying to make his own rotgut whiskey. I’d rather give him the real thing.”
“No!” Laurie yanked her arm against Daniel’s firm grip. “You promised.”
Johnny glowered. “You’d rather have him distilling wood alcohol in the living room?”
Some kind of horrid concoction boiled in her own gut. “Those barrels from the mill. How did he get them?”
“Probably stole them.” Johnny pushed open another window. “Maybe that’s why he didn’t show last night. Anyway, I’m getting rid of them and taking this blasted thing apart—piece-by-piece. Hopefully I can get done before he gets back.”
“Where is he?” Daniel asked.
“Don’t know. Don’t care.”
Daniel pulled off his jacket and rolled up his own sleeves. “I’ll give you a hand.”
Laurie remained motionless, staring at the ramshackle piece of machinery in the heart of her family’s home.
As Johnny took a wrench and began pulling the pipes apart, dark amber liquid dribbled from a thin copper pipe and pooled on the floor.
Daniel snatched a towel from the kitchen counter. “If he’s drinking this stuff, he’s going to have
worse problems than the sheriff on his back.”
Laurie strode for the back door, propping it open and taking deep gulps of the fresh air.
The Ford stood ajar in the yard, the driver’s door hanging open. She stood frozen for a long moment before stumbling forward and running down the steps. Her father’s prone shape lay sprawled in the dirt.
Laurie fell to her knees at his side, her hands fluttering across his back and arms, unsure what to do first. He felt cold to the touch. Her own wheezing, whimpering breaths filled her ears. “Dad . . . Dad—”
Footsteps sounded on the porch. “Laurie?” Daniel’s alarmed voice rang out.
She rolled her father to his back, his head lolling against her lap.
Daniel pounded down the steps and knelt at Laurie’s side.
A whirlpool formed around her, sucking away her breath, her life, her emotions. “Just tell me he’s not dead,” she whispered.
Daniel touched his face. “He’s still breathing, but he’s been out here a while.”
Johnny appeared at Daniel’s side, face ashen. He reached for his father’s arm. “His skin is as cold as ice.”
“Let’s get him inside.” Daniel shoved his hands under her dad’s back and hooked his wrists under his arms. Johnny seized his legs and lifted, grunting.
Laurie scrambled to her feet and followed as the men hauled her father up the wooden steps. Daniel and Johnny carted him to the bedroom and lowered him to the mattress.
“Shouldn’t we take him to the hospital?” Laurie grabbed blankets and tucked them around her father’s cold frame.
“And tell them what, Laurie?” Johnny snarled. “You want him to go to jail for this still? And do you think they’re going to believe I wasn’t involved?”
Her throat closed. “Better in jail than dead!”
“Be quiet, both of you. Let me take a look at him.” Daniel leaned over her father, pressing back one of his eyelids.
Laurie pressed her hand against her mouth, biting back the sobs that threatened to climb up her throat.
“Can you tell?” Johnny hovered on the far side of the bed. “Is he dying?”
Daniel stood upright, his fingers splayed on Dad’s brow. “It doesn’t look good to me, but I’m not a doctor—”
Her father choked, his eyelids parting, eyes rolling in their sockets.
Laurie jumped forward and grabbed his legs, as if to hold him on the bed.
“Quick—roll him on his side.” Daniel jammed his hands under Dad’s shoulder and shoved him toward Johnny.
Johnny caught and steadied him just as he choked and vomited a stream of vile-smelling liquid across the bedding.
“What’s happening?” Laurie grabbed a sheet and mopped her father’s face.
Daniel grimaced. “His body’s trying to clear the toxins.”
Her dad’s movements slowed and stopped. Daniel rolled him to his back.
“That’s good, then. It should help, right?” Laurie leaned forward and touched her father’s ashen skin, fear expanding in her chest until there was no room for her lungs. “Could we call Dr. Pierce? He wouldn’t say anything.”
Daniel’s hand settled on her shoulder. “I think we’re past that. He needs to go to the hospital—no matter the consequences. We don’t know how much of that poison he’s ingested.
“It’s just a little moon.” Johnny’s face paled.
Daniel’s eyes flashed. “Methyl alcohol—wood alcohol—is not easy to distill. Who knows what else was floating around in there? Formaldehyde? Lead? Turpentine?” He scowled. “If we do nothing, he might die. You want to gamble with his life?”
Laurie headed for the bedroom door. “I’m telephoning for help.”
Johnny’s arm reached out and caught her by the hand. “Just get the door, Laurie. We’ll take him ourselves.”
41
Daniel sat helpless, watching Laurie grapple with her emotions in the hospital waiting room. He wanted to pull her into his arms, but she resembled an agitated porcupine.
Johnny paced the floor, apparently ready to bolt if someone so much as looked at him wrong.
Daniel blew a long stream of air between his lips. If only they could have gotten to Ray before he’d sampled his wares. He dropped his head into his hands, suddenly understanding his grandfather’s philosophy.
Laurie’s luminous gaze remained locked on the door through which her father had disappeared, her hands clenching and unclenching in her lap.
“I’m going back to the house to finish cleaning up the . . . the mess,” Johnny scowled. “Just in case.”
Laurie glared at him, crimson lips curling back from her teeth. “Is that all you can think about? Saving your skin?”
Johnny took a step forward, lines forming around his eyes. “I can’t stay here. I’m going crazy.”
“We all are.”
Daniel stood, hesitant to step between the battling siblings. “Your place is here, Johnny. What if the worst happens?”
“Then there ain’t much I can do, is there?”
“Just let him leave, Daniel,” Laurie said, dropping back into her seat. “It’s what he does. He runs away and leaves me to pick up the pieces.”
Johnny squeezed his fingers into a fist. “And I’m the one who does all the dirty work to keep the family intact.”
Laurie breathed out. “Dirty work is right. That’s all you know how to do.”
Daniel saw Johnny surge forward and stepped to intercept him. Their shoulders collided with a crunch. Gripping Johnny’s elbows, he steered him toward the door. “That’s enough. Go home. Do what you have to do.”
Johnny shook himself free and jabbed a finger in Laurie’s direction. “If he dies, this’ll be your fault. You’re the one who made me stop bringing him the clean stuff.” His eyes showed red around the edges. “Your fault—you hear me?”
Fire scorched through Daniel. Grabbing Johnny’s shirt, he yanked him through the doorway and out onto the sidewalk, sending Johnny stumbling backward. “Don’t say something you’re going to regret.”
Johnny spit on the ground. “Regret’s my middle name.”
Hot tears spilled down Laurie’s face as the truth of Johnny’s words echoed in her head. The room spun and she lowered her face into her hands. Ten years without a mother and soon she’d be fatherless, too, all because she wanted him to be more than he was. Why was she so selfish? God, I know he’s a hopeless drunk, but he’s my dad. She pressed a handkerchief against her lips.
A gentle hand touched her knee. Daniel crouched on his heels in front of her. She fell against his chest.
He rocked back slightly, adjusting for her weight. “You didn’t do this.”
“Yes,” she gulped, “I did. I wanted him to quit drinking, but he couldn’t. I wanted him to be like everyone else’s fathers. Why couldn’t I just love him as he was?”
Daniel slipped his hand under her chin and lifted it. His brow furrowed. “You wanted the best for him. He’s an adult, so he makes his own choices. You didn’t pour that stuff down his throat.”
She pushed down the surge of sorrow boiling up from her gut. “I might as well have.”
He sighed and got to his feet. Sitting in the next chair, he pulled her close.
A nurse entered the room, silver hair glistening under her white cap, her cheeks wrinkled pouches that sagged over her jaw. She tapped a pen against her clipboard. “Burke?”
Daniel stood, gripping Laurie’s hand. “Over here.”
The nurse frowned, a crease pinching between her eyes, and walked over to them. She glanced down at her paper. “You the son?”
Laurie lifted her head. “I’m his daughter.”
The nurse shot a disinterested glance at Laurie before turning to address Daniel. “Mr. Burke is stable for now. There’s nothing else we can do but wait. If he makes it through the night, you can see him in the morning.”
Laurie sagged against Daniel’s arm.
“Can we speak to the doctor?” Daniel asked.
The woman shot him a dark look. “In the morning.”
42
Johnny jammed a last armful of pipes into the Ford as Daniel leaned over the main boiler with a hacksaw. They had dragged the metal apparatus into the backyard and worked on it by lantern light. Daniel resolved to whittle it into the smallest pieces possible.
He stopped and brushed the sweat away from his eyes. “What are you going to do with this stuff, anyway?”
Johnny shrugged. “Dump it in the bay, probably. Or out in the woods. Somewhere no one will find it.”
“What about the barrels, the wood alcohol?”
Turning back to face him, Johnny sighed. “Not sure. I hate the idea of dumping that stuff in the Straits. It can’t be any better for the fish than it was for the old man.”
“Can you return it to the mill?”
“Maybe I can leave them by the back delivery gate. Someone will spot them in the morning.”
Daniel braced his foot against a log bench and lifted the saw. It made a horrible rasping sound as it slashed through the metal sides of the still. He glanced up at Laurie’s window. The noise could wake the dead, but he hoped she might get some rest, anyway.
Johnny picked up a few of the pieces that had fallen at Daniel’s feet. “One more secret for Laurie to try and cover up.”
“The still?”
Johnny scoffed. “You—spending the night at her house.”
The strain of the day left Daniel little patience for humor. “You really need to watch your mouth. I’ve been within an inch of clobbering you tonight.”
Johnny threw the metal into the back of the Ford. “What’s stopping you? You owe me one, if I’m not mistaken.” He hooked his thumbs through his suspenders. “Unless you just figure you’re a better man than me.”
Daniel grunted as he pushed the saw.
“That’s it, ain’t it? You’re the high-and-mighty saint and I’m the miserable sinner. It’s no wonder Laurie’s fallen for you. She’s always wanted a hero.”
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