“Hello?”
“Heya, Frances,” Rosie said. “The deed’s done.”
I held my breath. “It is?”
“No foolin. I got the cash right here.”
“And you got the price I asked for?”
“Are you doubting me? Seems to me a person in your…predickerment should be a little nicer.”
“I’m sorry. I know how hard you had to work, and I’m very grateful.”
“I never said it was hard, Frances. I said it was done.”
I took a deep breath. Honey, not vinegar. “Thank you, Rosie. I’ll pick you up at nine tonight.” I hung up the phone and put my hands over my stomach. The church bells down the street rang out six times, sending chills down my arms. I closed my eyes and began to pray.
#
The girls wandered in shortly after seven, and I threw supper together—bacon and eggs again, which caused both girls to roll their eyes. “I really should learn to cook,” Molly said as she scraped eggs onto her plate and slapped the spatula back into the pan.
“I’ll help,” added Mary Grace. “Even I could do better than this.” She held up a piece of bacon I’d blackened to a crisp.
“I’ll eat that one. I like it that way.” I grabbed it from her and took a charred bite. It tasted like ashes.
When the phone rang a minute later, I jumped up from my chair so abruptly it tipped over backward.
“Hello?”
“It’s me.”
“Joey, what the hell? I’ve been looking for you all day!” I didn’t even care if the girls heard me curse.
“Calm down. I had business to take care of. Did you get the money?”
“No, I’m short.” I glanced over my shoulder.
“How much?”
I was silent, the amount stuck in my throat like a wad of chewing gum. I didn’t want to say it in earshot of the girls.
“Are your sisters there?”
Bless you, Joey. “Uh huh.”
“A hundred?”
“More.”
“Three?”
“More.”
“Jesus. Five?”
“Six.”
Joey exhaled. “OK. I can’t pick you up tonight because I have something to do, but I’ll meet you in front of the club at ten with the money.”
Relief cascaded over me like a waterfall. “How are you going to get it?”
“Don’t worry about that. Just be outside at ten.”
“OK. And thanks…I owe you.”
“Owing me is the least of your problems.” He hung up.
#
“I don’t get it,” Evelyn said as she watched Rosie and I dress for Club 23 in their bedroom. “Why does she get to go with you and I don’t?”
The hurt on her face wrenched my heart, but I refused to put Evelyn in danger. Rosie could handle herself. “I’m only giving her a ride there, Evvy. I have to drop something off for my father again, and I don’t intend to stay. Can you fasten this?” I was wearing an old black dress of Rosie’s, which had a small tear at the side seam and was too big for me, but still better than being seen again in the blue. She let me wear the headband again too. If I ever had money to spend on myself again, I’d buy my own.
“I’ve never seen you wear black,” said Rosie, darkening her caramel lashes to soot. “It looks good on you.”
Evelyn helped me with the tiny snaps at the side of the dress but continued to grumble. “I’ve hardly even seen you this week.”
I hugged her. “I want to get in and out of there quickly,” I said. Alive, I left out. “And the men I have to deal with are not the sort of men you want to meet. It’s too dangerous.”
“I might like dangerous men.”
“Oh, please,” put in Rosie from the mirror. Her rouge matched her satin dress—the shortest dress I’d ever seen off a movie screen. “You don’t drink much, you don’t smoke at all, and you don’t know how to dance. What would you do there?”
“I’m a better dancer than Tiny, and she’s going.”
“Tiny’s got connections.” I detected the note of admiration in Rosie’s voice. “When you get some of those, you can go too.” She gave Evelyn a patronizing little pat on the head. If I was Evelyn, I’d have kicked her.
“Next time, I promise.” I squeezed her shoulder. “You are a better dancer than me, and we’ll go to a club together soon, OK? Maybe Joey will take us.”
She brightened a little at his name. “All right.”
“I’ll call you tomorrow.”
Leaving a disappointed Evelyn at the door, Rosie and I climbed into my Ford. “I do wish we had a better mode of transportation.” She wrinkled her pert little nose. “This jalopy really isn’t my style.”
“Want to walk?” I asked tersely. “I can give you directions, but you’re on your own for the password.”
“I’m only joking. Don’t have a kitten.” Rosie patted my shoulder.
My fingers tightened around the steering wheel.
“You mentioned Joey. He coming tonight?” Rosie batted her spidery lashes at me.
“No.”
“Too bad. I like those big brown eyes. But there will be plenty of other eyes there.”
Mine slid sideways. “All on you in that dress.”
She shimmied her shoulders. “That’s the way I like it.”
I took the same route Joey had driven Saturday night and parked along the quiet downtown side street. My password worked again, and we were sent through the winding basement hallway that ended at the club’s main room, where Rosie stood slack-jawed for a full ten seconds. Finally she whistled, slung an arm around me, and spoke loudly over the raucous music. “I take back everything I’ve ever said about ya, Frances. You’re the cat’s meow.” She dug a cigarette out of her purse and eyed a table full of young men near the dance floor. Glancing over her shoulder as she headed for them, she said, “See ya.”
Left alone, I gulped back my nerves and looked around the room. I didn’t see Enzo or Angel, and I didn’t want them to spot me until I had all the money. It was nine-thirty, which meant I had to kill half an hour before Joey arrived. Keeping my eyes low, I went to the far end of the bar and stood with my back to the crowd, hoping to be invisible.
No such luck.
“What’ja do, bring your homework?” Pimple-faced Harry parked himself on my left and gestured at the envelope I clutched to my side.
“Get lost.” I kept my eyes down.
“Why do all the pretty ones gotta be so unfriendly, Raymond?”
I stiffened at the name of Angel’s other son, the one who’d dragged me through the garage.
“Dunno, Harry.” Raymond’s voice came from my right. “But this one’s pretty all right. And she’s got nice little round tits too. I copped a feel of ‘em when I was holding her down.”
I looked at him sharply, considering a knee to the groin. “You did not.”
He leered at me and licked his lips. “I did, and I liked it.”
Clenching my fists, I stared up at him, breathing hard through my nostrils. It wasn’t difficult to see the resemblance in the DiFiore family—like Enzo, Raymond had the classically attractive features of their father, although his eyes were slightly wider set, and his jaw was a shade weaker. I felt like spitting in his handsome face. But if I caused a scene, I’d only draw attention to myself. Keep calm. Don’t move. Don’t speak. It’s almost ten.
“Maybe you think you’re too good for a drink with us. Is that it?” Harry’s tone was menacing.
“No,” I said. “It’s just…I don’t see anything I want.”
“What do you mean by that?” Raymond demanded. He moved closer, poking a meaty finger toward the bottles lining the back wall. “We got all the good stuff, way better than what you and your lousy pop are running.”
A little bell pinged in my head. I pretended to look over the offerings behind the bar. “Nah. You don’t have what I’m looking for.”
Raymond huffed. “Like what?”
; “Well, I’d like to try some rum. The real thing, from the islands. Not some coffin varnish made from industrial alcohol and prune juice.” Taking a cue from Rosie, I batted my lashes at Harry. “You got any rum?”
As I’d suspected, Raymond scooted around and elbowed his way between us. “I’m the one who’s got the goods, not him.”
Looking his wrinkled suit up and down, I sniffed. “I doubt it.”
“I do!” He thumped his chest. “I’m the rum runner here, not Harry. I can get it for you.”
I cocked an eyebrow at him. “Right now?”
“No, it ain’t here yet.”
I shrugged and turned back to the bar, my heart pounding. If my instincts were correct, Raymond wasn’t terribly bright. Painful as this was, I had a much better chance of getting him to talk than his brother. “Then like I said, you don’t have what I want.”
“But it’s coming,” he went on. “I’m big time now. I got a shipment coming in that’s the real Malloy.”
“McCoy, you idiot,” snapped Harry.
I faced Raymond again. “Well, how long’s that gonna take, Big Time?” I smiled and winked before straightening his crooked tie. “I’m not a girl who likes to wait around. I could find a little taste of rum someplace else.”
He nearly bounced with excitement. “Not this rum. You come back in two days, and I’ll give you all the tasting you want.”
Two days—did that mean the shipment would come in tomorrow night? Or could it be tonight? “I’m busy Thursday night. How about tomorrow?”
“Uh uh. It ain’t gonna be here till late tomorrow night.”
“Oh. Maybe I’ll change my plans, then.” I winked at him again, but inside I was screaming, I did it! I did it! When I went out to meet Joey, I could tell him the shipment would arrive late tomorrow night. Then maybe I wouldn’t feel so guilty about taking more of his money.
“So how’s about you and me go someplace quiet?” Raymond asked, running a hand up my arm.
“Hey, I spotted her first, you know.” Harry grabbed Raymond’s shoulder and spun him around. His face was red with anger. “And if your brother sees you touching her, he’s gonna throttle ya.”
“What’s my brother got to do with it?” Raymond jerked a thumb toward the dance floor. “He’s got his own girl.”
Bug-eyed, I craned my neck toward the dancers, scanning the room until I spotted him. The floor seemed to tilt beneath me, and I reached for the bar to steady myself. He stood with a cocktail at the edge of the dance floor, looking deliciously at ease in a black suit, white shirt, and a bow tie. His hair was pushed into a wave above his forehead. I watched him bring the glass to his lips, heat flushing my neck and chest.
Before he saw me, a squealing smarty in a gold dress as shiny and short as Rosie’s accosted him, demanding attention. His kissed her cheek and took her arm, leading her to a booth nearby. Lightning bolts of jealousy ricocheted throughout my body while she preened at his side, looking around to make sure everyone noticed her. From my vantage point, she was cute but not beautiful, with dark hair, a wide forehead, and big red lips.
“Excuse me.” I pushed both Harry and Raymond aside to get to the exit. I wasn’t sure what time it was, but I needed some air.
Thankfully, neither of them followed me as I raced through the curtains and down the long hallway toward the metal door. I told the guard I was meeting someone and sweet-talked him into letting me back inside once my friend arrived.
“She as cute as you?” He wore a black suit and white shirt that had a tomato sauce spill down the front. At least I hoped it was tomato sauce.
I lowered my chin and looked up at him with a flirty wink. “Not nearly.”
He laughed and opened the door.
“Thanks. Hey, can you tell me what time it is?”
“Sure thing, doll. It’s five to ten.”
“Perfect.” Flashing one more smile at him, I went through the vestibule and up the cement steps. Once I was outside, I almost collapsed. My heart was racing so fast, I thought it might gallop right out of my chest. Fanning my face with one hand, I leaned against a light post. I did it. I’d discovered when the rum shipment would come in without having to come on to Enzo.
So why did I feel a little disappointed?
I should be even angrier with him. Not only had he stolen business from me, he had a girl, for Christ’s sake. He’d kissed me and touched me, and all the while he had some little chippie waiting for him! Had she been at the club Saturday night? Maybe that’s why he dragged me through the underground tunnels—he didn’t want to be seen with me. Maybe he knew all along what would happen when he got me behind a locked door, and he didn’t want anyone to know about it. Then he’d gone behind my back with Al Murphy.
Bastard. No man that despicable deserved to be that handsome.
A dark sedan pulled up to the curb, and thinking it was Joey, I moved toward it. But instead, a young couple got out of the back seat, laughing as they stumbled toward the stairwell. Clearly they’d been at the bottle already. I wouldn’t mind a sip or two myself, I thought, backing up to the post again. Come on, Joey. Get here, why don’t you? I looked up and down the street, but saw no sign of him. A few pairs of headlamps approached and passed. My stomach began to ache as a question I hadn’t considered popped into my head.
What would I do if he didn’t show?
Another car slowed, and the lone driver looked me over, but he sped up again without stopping. Shit. I couldn’t stay out here alone like this much longer; it wasn’t safe. But going back in there without all five grand wasn’t safe either. A string of the foulest curse words I knew ripped through my brain. I had no idea what time it was, but I knew it was well past ten.
My knees started to tremble.
And then my hands.
A searing pain worked its way from the back of my skull to the front, settling right between my eyes. Maybe that’s where they’ll shoot me.
Goddammit! I shouldn’t have trusted Joey! I should have gone to Bridget. Maybe she would’ve panicked, but she might have had six hundred dollars to lend me. Then again, she might have insisted on cops too, and that wouldn’t have done me any good. Joey was my only hope, but that hope was draining away to dregs.
When my feet started to ache, I knew that I had probably been standing for close to an hour. I had run out of curse words to think.
“Fuck,” I said. I’d never spoken the word aloud before. Actually it was kind of helpful to physically utter the word; it relieved some tension. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” Just the feel of it bursting from my lips felt sinfully good. And if I’m going to die, I might as well sin a little before I do.
Exhaling, I looked down the street once more. I could make a run for it. I could leave here and go to the cops. Fuck it, I could leave here and go to Paris! I had more than four thousand dollars tucked under my arm. They’d never find me. No one would ever know I’d been a coward and abandoned my family.
But I’d know.
“Fuck it,” I said. Loudly.
Then I turned around, took a deep breath, and headed down the stairs into the club.
Chapter Nine
Once inside, I wasted no time. Spotting Enzo alone near the bar, I squared my shoulders and tried to walk like he did—long, confident strides with purpose. When I reached him, I tapped his shoulder, and he turned.
“You made it.” His eyes traveled down my body and back up again.
“Did you doubt me?”
A hint of a smile. “Not for a moment. Follow me.” He led me toward the far right wall, where a tall, stern-faced guard stood in front of a red curtain. He nodded at Enzo before allowing us to slip behind it.
The sound of the music receded as we walked down a dim corridor. The air smelled like cigar smoke, and I heard laughter and shouting behind several closed doors, each of them guarded. At the end of the corridor, I followed him up two flights of stairs. From there we entered the paneled hallway I recognized from Saturday night, and I knew he was l
eading me to Angel’s office. My heart tripped faster, and I ransacked my brain for the right words to say as I handed Angel an envelope that was six hundred dollars short. Should I admit it up front? Should I accuse them of stealing my business? Should I trade the information I had about the River Gang planning a heist of their rum? The thought of betraying Joey made bile rise in my throat, but I was on my own. I had to do whatever it took to protect my family.
The door was open but guarded by two men, and Enzo gestured for me to enter first. Angel sat behind the desk, and at the sight of it, my stomach flipped repeatedly like a coin through the air. Three nights ago, Enzo had set me on it and stood between my knees, loosening his collar. What I wouldn’t give to be in that moment instead of this one.
“Good evening, Miss O’Mara. Please sit.” Angel rose to his feet as I approached. Big Time Raymond stood in a corner and had the nerve to wink at me.
I sat stiffly on the edge of a chair and placed the envelope on the desk.
“Enzo?” Without taking his eyes off me, Angel indicated his older son should take the money. When Raymond stepped forward and tried to take the envelope, Angel snatched it out of his reach. “I said Enzo. Count this.”
Enzo came from behind me to take the envelope while Raymond retreated to the corner and sulked. “He always gets the money. He’s probably skimming,” he mumbled.
“Raymond, please.”
“I’m sick of him bossing me. When’s it my turn to—”
“Never,” Enzo interrupted. He fell silent, presumably counting the cash.
I braced myself for the discovery, my heart like gunfire in my ears.
“It’s all here.”
Huh? I whipped my head around to stare at him, my mouth open. The envelope and cash were hidden somewhere already.
“May I offer you something?” Enzo asked, his face impassive. “A drink? Some champagne perhaps?”
“Don’t let her say no, Enzo.” Angel walked over to the sideboard laid out with glassware and bottles of booze.
“No, thank you,” I answered, managing to close my mouth. What the hell kind of game was Enzo playing? He refuses to help me, he steals business from me—now he covers for me?
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