She gasped. “Mary Grace, that little tattle tale!”
I let go of her ear. “I don’t want to hear another word out of you, is that understood?”
“You’re not my mother,” she spat, rubbing her ear. “And I’m sick of you acting like it.”
I almost laughed. “You know what, Molly? I’m sick of it too.”
#
When I pulled up at the boathouse at ten, I saw two cars—Joey’s Ford and a beautiful red Buick Touring. I parked next to the Ford and took a few deep breaths before opening my door. A group of guys stood on the dock, cigarette tips glowing orange in the blackness. No moon tonight.
I picked out Joey right away. He wasn’t the shortest or the tallest, but his silhouette in the dark was familiar to me now. It made me feel a little safer. Walking toward the group, I held the hearse keys in one hand and an envelope of cash in the other.
“Tiny.” Joey’s deep voice cut through the slap of waves against the seawall. “This is Sam and Angelo and Whitey.” All three of them wore suits, no ties. Angelo and Whitey wore floppy caps like Joey, but Sam’s head was bare. He was a short, thick-necked, and bald, which surprised me—for some reason I’d pictured a barber with a full head of hair.
“Hello,” I said.
They said nothing. One might have nodded.
Joey cleared his throat. “Did you bring the keys like I asked?” I held them out, and he gave them to Sam.
“Where are they?” Sam asked, tossing his cigarette butt into the water.
“They’re at the garage I told you about,” Joey said. “Here’s the key.” For a minute I was confused as to why Joey would have a garage key, but then I remembered that he had replaced the back door today.
“At least two are running right now.” I swallowed hard when they all looked at me. “There’s a third my father was still working on.”
“I can get it running,” Joey said quickly. He turned to me. “In exchange for the hearses, Sam here’s gonna buy all the cases in the boathouse.”
“One fifty per,” Sam said.
I bit my lip. That was thirty bucks less per case than usual, but what was I going to do? It was sell to Sam at a discount or kiss Daddy goodbye. I nodded. “OK.”
“And he’s also going to let us make a run tonight without paying his percentage,” Joey added. His tone implied I should be grateful.
“Thank you,” I said. Sam took a wad of bills from his pocket and handed it to me. I tucked it into the envelope, too scared to count it in front of him.
Joey spoke up again. “One more thing.”
“Yes?” My voice cracked.
“We heard—well, Sam heard—that Angel’s expecting a huge rum shipment this week by rail from the East Coast. You know anything?”
Was he serious? “No. And there’s no way for me to find out.” Rain began to fall. Fat, heavy drops that hit the dock with soft thups.
“All you have to do is listen,” said Sam. “Someone always talks.” His voice was so low and gravelly I could hardly hear it. “We want to know what night it’s coming.”
“I—I don’t…” I flashed Joey a look that said help me. There was no way any of the DiFiores would let something like that slip—especially in front of me.
“Just keep your eyes and ears open, Tiny. That’s all we’re asking.” Joey’s expression pleaded with me to accept the terms.
“OK,” I whispered.
“We better go.” Joey sounded relieved. “We got seventeen cases waiting to be picked up. Tiny, unlock the boathouse for them.”
I did as he said, and the guys loaded the whisky into the red Buick. Once they’d driven away, Joey and I hurried to the boat. Although the rain was intermittent, the wind had picked up and the lake was even choppier than last night. I held on tight as we headed out to the open water.
“You all right?” Joey asked.
“No, I’m not all right! Not only did I just give away three hearses and the keys to the garage, but I sold eight cases of whisky at a discount when I need every penny I can get!”
“I know, but that was his price. And you don’t have a lot of time to turn a profit here, Tiny. You’re better off selling fast than selling high right now.”
“Yeah, but—”
“But nothing. You got a thousand bucks in your pocket that you wouldn’t have if I hadn’t negotiated the deal with Sam. Now forget about what’s already sold and start thinking about the next load you’re gonna have to sell—by tomorrow night.”
He was right. It wouldn’t do any good to agonize over what was already done. I focused my attention on the lights across the lake as the waves tossed us up and down.
At the Canadian docks, I paid the distributor—a younger guy I didn’t recognize—five hundred ninety-five dollars. The seventeen cases barely fit into the boat, which sat frighteningly low in the water. “Come on, hurry,” Joey said. “The rain’s starting again.” He was veering out to the lake before I could even sit down. Halfway across, he stiffened and sat up tall.
“What?” My pulse quickened.
“Come here,” he said quietly, slowing the boat and shutting off the engine.
“Joey, it’s raining! Turn the motor back on and get us back!”
“Just come here,” he said, more insistent this time. He thumped the space next to him on the bench. As we drifted on the swells, I carefully stepped between the sacks to sit beside him. He put his hands on my shoulders and looked me in the eye. “Kiss me.”
My stomach cartwheeled. “Are you nuts?”
“Kiss me,” he said again, but he didn’t wait for me to do it. He squeezed my upper arms and pressed his mouth to mine. His fingers dug into my skin as my heart careened out of control. What the hell is going on? He picks this moment to get romantic? He took his lips off mine and buried his face in my hair by my ear. “Inspectors,” he whispered. “Now act like you love me.”
My eyes darted around the lake, and sure enough, what looked like a Prohibition Navy boat was passing us about ten yards off. I saw men in rain slickers lining the deck, guns at their sides. With my pulse roaring in my ears, I threw my arms around Joey and kissed him as if we were just a couple out for a romantic boat ride in the rain. But fear had me frozen stiff; it must have been like kissing a statue. “Relax,” murmured Joey against my closed lips. “I’ve got you.” His low voice loosened my limbs and my inhibitions, and when he pulled me onto his lap, I went willingly. His mouth was hot, and his soft lips teased mine open. The rock and sway of the boat lulled us into a rhythm, and I melted into it, into him. One of his hands began kneading my hip, and the other inched up the side of my ribcage, his thumb nearly grazing my breast. My nipples tightened, and I wanted his hands on them.
Oh my God, I’m kissing Joey. And I like it.
The inspectors had to be past us by now, but I didn’t want to stop. Raindrops splashed our faces and mingled with our kiss, but they did nothing to cool me down. Without thinking, I slipped my tongue between Joey’s lips, and he sucked it gently before stroking it with his own. Picturing his familiar lush mouth, I held his head in my hands and plucked softly at his top lip, then his bottom lip, and then I pulled away slightly to rub my lips back and forth against his. His breath was hot on my mouth, and coming faster. A pleasant ache began between my legs and I arched my back, moving my hips a little. For a moment his arm tightened and I felt his flesh stirring beneath me—but in the next second he pulled away.
“They’re gone.” He set me beside him and turned on the motor.
I sat still, breathing heavily and trying to recover my senses. My whole body shook.
“You OK?” Joey asked. I was irritated to see a smile on his lips.
“No.” I stumbled over the whisky back to the other bench seat. “I can’t believe you did that.” I can’t believe how much I liked it. Had he been pretending the whole time?
He laughed. “Sorry. But I can’t say I didn’t enjoy it.”
I cocked my head, grateful he couldn’t see my
cheeks flaming in the dark. “Glad I could amuse you.”
“Listen, I don’t know if those guys cared about us or not, but I didn’t feel like discussing things with them tonight, seeing as we’re unarmed, have no cash to spare, and smuggling seventeen cases of whisky across the lake.”
As we zipped through the drizzle, I kept my eyes on the shore, resisting the urge to peek at Joey. It didn’t seem as if the kiss had affected him the way it had me, but maybe I was making too much of it. Maybe it was just fear and adrenaline fueling that kiss, rather than any chemistry between us. And all the fooling around with Enzo had me wound so tightly, I was about to burst.
It isn’t Joey. It can’t be.
Besides, I had a much bigger problem—at my feet was a hell of a lot of booze that I had to sell in twenty-four hours. In addition, I owed Sam the Barber any information I could get about that rail shipment. How was I supposed to do that? Could I get it out of Enzo? That meant being sweet to him again, and I wasn’t certain my acting ability was up to par—I was furious that he’d stolen Al Murphy’s business, especially since he knew I needed money this week. Bastard, I thought for the hundredth time today. If I could get that information, it would sure feel good to pay him back for double-crossing me. It would make Joey happy too.
Finally I risked a peek at him, and he was looking at me too. For a few seconds, we stared at each other, neither one speaking, until the tension between us had every muscle in my body clenched so tight I had to look away.
Once we docked, Joey and I ran the whisky into the boathouse while lightning flashed over the lake. The wind howled and rain fell harder, pelting our faces. Thunder rumbled in the distance as I picked up the last case and hurried toward the boathouse, where Joey stood just inside the doorway. We still hadn’t spoken.
“I’ll buy three cases from you,” Joey said as I set the sack down. From his pocket he took a wad of cash and handed it to me. I stared at it, and then at him.
“What the hell, Moneybags? You rob a bank this afternoon?” The roaring wind slammed the door shut behind us, and I jumped.
“No, I earned it. You’re not the only one who works, you know.” Joey tucked the money into the front pocket of my blouse. Then he moved for the door, but I scooted in front of it.
“Hold on a second.”
“What?”
“What exactly are you doing for Sam the Barber to make that kind of money? And why doesn’t he have hair, anyway?”
“What’s his hair got to do with anything?”
“I don’t know. I just thought a barber would have hair.”
“He’s not a barber.”
“He’s not? Well, why do they call him—”
“Because he’s good with a razor.”
Lightning cracked, illuminating Joey’s grave face. “Oh, God.” My legs threatened to buckle as the thunder rolled. It sounded as if the storm was right above us.
“Look, Sam’s not a bad guy,” Joey said as rain pummeled the roof. “He’s fair, at least. You get him what he wants, and he’ll return the favor without double-crossing you.”
I shook my head. “I can’t get him what he wants. Angel’s not going to tell me anything.”
“I agree. You’ll have to get your fancy suit to talk.”
“How am I supposed to do that?”
“You’ll find a way.” Lightning flashed again, allowing me to see the ghost of a smile on his face as he came toward me. For a second I thought he might kiss me, but he didn’t. He just rubbed his lips back and forth against my ear and whispered, “You’ve got hidden talent.”
Chapter Eight
That night I tossed and turned in sheets damp with sweat and humidity. I listened to the storm through my open window and fretted about selling enough whisky to buy Daddy’s life and protect my sisters. My stomach ached, and I curled into a ball on my side. Had I done the right thing by going to Joey and not the police? Was I wrong to hide this from Bridget? Would I regret making a deal with Sam the Barber in which I promised to trade information for protection?
If anything went wrong, it would be my fault.
And Joey—I’d kissed Joey. I’d wanted to do more than that. Slamming my eyes shut, I tried to block the memory, to forget how much I’d enjoyed it. What the hell was wrong with me? Was I just starving for physical attention? Desperate for a release of the tension? Between Joey and Enzo, I’d had more sexual excitement in the last three days than I’d had all year. And none of it was real; someone was always acting.
Flopping onto my back, I tried to think of things I could say or do to entice Enzo to tell me about the rail shipment. He was too smart to let something slip, so my only hope was using the attraction between us. I’d failed last time, but maybe if I let things go further…
My heart thumped hard. Just how far was I willing to go? I wasn’t completely unspoiled, but my sexual prowess was fairly untested beyond the usual heavy petting. Despite my Catholic upbringing, I knew how to give myself an orgasm—and Charlie Gerrity, the one boy I’d dated seriously in high school, had certainly been no great challenge—but Enzo was another entity altogether. He wasn’t a school boy ready to go off at the sight of a girl’s knees. He was a man, and he seemed like a man with experience. Would I know what to do to get him to yield? And how would I keep my temper in check? Every time I thought about the way he’d stolen Al Murphy’s business, screwing me out of making the ransom money, my skin got hot with rage. It would take a huge effort not to accuse him of deliberately playing dirty with me, not that he’d care.
It’s a dirty business, Tiny.
It sure as hell was. Dirty and dangerous and full of constant temptation.
As I remembered his fingers beneath my dress, on my bare skin, touching the most sensitive parts of me, my body thrummed with desire. I flexed and fisted my hands in the sheet, imagining what his body was like underneath those custom suits. Suddenly I had all kinds of ideas for getting him to talk.
He said he found me hard to resist. I was going to test him on that.
#
“I might be able to help you,” Rosie said coyly, leaning toward her reflection as she applied her lipstick. With her social life, I thought she might know some people interested in buying whisky, so I’d stopped by hoping to see her before she left for work. She met my eyes in the bedroom mirror. “But what’s in it for me?”
I couldn’t offer her cash—I needed every dollar to pay Angel. But there was something I thought she’d go for. “How’d you like to go to Club 23 tonight?”
She straightened. “You serious?”
“Yes.”
She capped her lipstick and rubbed her ruby lips together. “Why do you need the money so bad?”
“My father’s in trouble. I’m helping him cover a debt, and I have to pay it immediately.” I’d decided to be up front with Rosie because she liked Daddy. Mr. LaChance had an eye for other women and a tendency to disappear for weeks at a time, and more than once Daddy had helped Mrs. LaChance pay the rent.
Rosie nodded. “What’s the price?”
“Fifteen per bottle.”
She admired her reflection again. “Club 23, huh? I bet there’s a lot of high class daddies in there.” In the mirror, her eyes wandered around the room she shared with Evelyn. “Maybe I could get out of this dump.”
“So it’s a deal?”
“It’s a deal.” She went to the closet and pulled down a brown leather suitcase. “Pack as many bottles as you can in here, and I’ll take ‘em down to the store. I know a few suits I can sweet talk.”
I ran out to my car and hustled in one sack of whisky. We managed to tuck all twelve bottles inside the case. “I bet I’ll have it all sold before lunch,” she bragged, flipping the latches closed.
“If you do, I’ll buy your first drink at the club.”
She pursed her perfect bow lips as she slipped into her shoes. “Honey, once we’re through that door, you can go chase yourself. I won’t need you.”
#
/> That day, I called or visited every customer on our list. I braved sales calls to restaurants where I knew the owners and even ventured into the Country Club to speak with a waiter I’d gone to high school with. Short of standing on a street corner and shouting to the world that I had whisky for sale, I’d done everything possible to move every last drop, but at five o’clock I still had forty unsold bottles. That meant I’d be six hundred dollars short when I faced Angel tonight, and that was assuming Rosie managed to sell all twelve bottles she’d taken to work.
I drove home, racking my brain. Who could I borrow from? Bridget was out—I was avoiding even talking to her because I felt so guilty about lying. And she was bound to start asking questions about Daddy’s absence. He’d never left us this long.
We had no other close family. Evelyn didn’t make much at the bakery, and Rosie was already doing me a favor.
That left Joey. Again.
Inside the house, I stared at the phone in the front hall, tugging at my hair. I hated to ask Joey for anything more since he’d given me over five hundred bucks yesterday. But I had nowhere else to turn, and Daddy was depending on me. My sisters were depending on me, even if they didn’t know it. I looked up his mother’s number in the directory and dialed, but she said she hadn’t seen him all day and didn’t expect him back any time soon. Normally I laughed when I heard anyone refer to him as Giuseppe, but not today. After thanking her, I hung up and yanked on my hair again. “Shit!”
I paced back and forth in the hall, utterly panicked. I had no idea where Joey was. I still hadn’t heard from Rosie. I hadn’t seen my sisters all day and God only knew what they were up to. My father was being held in some gang hideout somewhere, maybe being tortured or beaten, and I was short six hundred bucks on the ransom payment due at the end of the day. And that was only half the cash I needed to free him! My nerves were so raw that when the phone rang, I shrieked before grabbing it.
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