“I don’t know. But I would think that a man with his drinking problem, in this age of Prohibition, would find any way he could to get liquor. I think his money problems are related to his drinking.”
Maggie’s mother came in the door from a day of shopping. She kissed her daughter on the cheek, a real kiss, not an air kiss. Maggie felt tears prick her eyes. Her mother had been warm and loving these past few days and Maggie didn’t think she’d ever get used to it. She treasured the feeling and held it close to her heart. “Hello, children. How has your day been?”
“Oh, we’ve been busy, Mother.” Maggie didn’t want to tell her they’d been looking for Carey Chambers all evening. “We finished all but two scenes earlier today.”
“Good! Then you’ll be ready to move on to bigger and better things. Like married life.” Her mother beamed at them for a moment then the smile faded.
“What’s wrong, Mother?” Maggie took the bags from her hands and put them on the kitchen table. Her mother glanced at Scott then at her.
“I’ve been worried that you’ll go with Scott to his time and leave me all alone.” Violet sank to the sofa and buried her face in her hands.
“Oh, Mother. We haven’t decided anything yet. There’s been too much going on.”
“Violet,” Scott said as he took her hand in his. “I want you to know that whatever happens we want you in our lives. Maggie needs her mother. No matter where or when we live, we hope you’ll be there with us.”
Maggie beamed at Scott. “See? Now you don’t have to worry. You’ll be with us and that’s that.”
Violet hugged her daughter then hugged Scott. “Thank you. I couldn’t have asked for a better husband for my precious daughter.” She went to the table and rummaged through her packages. “Here, Margaret. I bought you something special.”
Maggie took the beautifully gift wrapped package that had the name of a posh boutique on it and opened it. She pulled out a jet black nightie that was so sheer she could see right through it. She gasped at the stunning design and blushed at its meaning. “Mother!”
“You’re a grown woman, Margaret. I know what marriage means. I also know that you have the love of a lifetime standing right there in front of you.” She smiled at Scott and took her daughter’s hand in hers. “You wear that nightie on your wedding night.”
“Thank you, Mother. I’m touched…and a little embarrassed.” Maggie folded the filmy material in her hands and placed it back in the box.
“You’re welcome, darling.” She gathered her packages and put them in a closet. “Now what are your plans for this evening?”
Scott arched an eyebrow and grinned at Maggie. “We’re going to a speakeasy,” he told his future mother-in-law.
Chapter Thirteen
After checking in with Damon Westerly and hearing he’d had no luck finding Carey Chambers, Scott and Maggie planned their evening. They decided to check out the two addresses that Westerly had given them and then go to the speakeasy.
“Do you think anyone will recognize us?” Maggie asked.
“It’s possible,” Scott said. “But they won’t know we’re looking for Chambers, they’ll think we just want a fun night drinking and gambling.” Scott adjusted his tie and picked up his fedora from the bed. “You look stunning, by the way.” Maggie’s dress was cocktail length, teal-colored and had one shoulder bare. It wrapped around her body with a Grecian flair. In direct contrast to the sack shapes of the day her dress hugged her slim waist and draped smoothly past her trim legs. Scott picked up Maggie’s silver fox stole and arranged it over his arm.
When Maggie stepped by him to leave the bedroom he pulled her close and kissed her. Fire and longing flamed inside Scott and he groaned. Before she could step away or lambaste him for ruining her lipstick he trailed a finger along the line of her bodice from her creamy left shoulder past her barely covered breasts to a spot just under her right arm. Maggie groaned and leaned closer to Scott.
The kiss deepened. Scott pulled Maggie closer and ran his hands down her sides molding her small frame. He fought the need tightening inside him knowing they’d never leave the room otherwise. With a deep regret he pulled away.
Maggie’s eyes were half closed, her lips parted. Her quick, mint-flavored breaths told Scott how much he affected her. With a tender stroke along the side of her face he kissed her forehead and said in a choked voice, “We’d better get going or we won’t leave at all.”
Maggie gave a weak laugh, pecked Scott on his lips and turned toward the mirror over the dresser. With a little squeak she grabbed some tissue and rubbed off the remaining smeared lipstick. “You sure know how to ruin a girl’s lipstick, Mr. Forrester.” She winked then lined her lips with a red pencil and smoothed her ruby lipstick over it. With a quick dab of sparkling powder over her bare shoulder and under her collarbone she patted her hair and said, “I’m ready.”
Scott’s pulse pounded. The light hit the glittery shine on her skin and her full, siren lips called to him. “God, you are one stunning woman, Maggie Ingram. Let’s go before I say screw Carey Chambers and the last two scenes of The Gunslinger’s Wife.”
They left the bedroom amid much laughter. Violet Ingram looked up from the book she’d been reading and gasped. “You are the most beautiful couple I have ever seen. You’ll make incredible children.”
Scott saw Maggie’s blush flame in her face and laughed with pride and joy.
“Mother!” Maggie said. “We’ll…we’ll be going now. Don’t expect us back early. We won’t be going to the speakeasy until sometime around midnight.”
“Just be careful,” Violet said. “Dangerous people go to those places. After all, they sell illegal liquor and men get into fights over card games. I don’t want you caught up in a raid.”
“We’ll be careful, Mrs. Ingram,” Scott soothed. “You have a nice evening yourself.”
“I’m staying home with a good book,” Violet said. “Now, shoo. You two have a lovely evening.”
* * * * *
Nothing panned out at the two addresses that Damon Westerly had provided. One was an apartment with a girl Carey took out for publicity purposes only and the other was a brothel. The madam was a very nice, albeit slightly rotund lady named Virginia. She wore too much makeup and her low cut loungewear fit the stereotype of an old-time madam. They said their thanks and left the small two-story house nestled far away from businesses and homes.
“Well, that was interesting,” Maggie said. “I don’t know why I feel a little sorry for Virginia. She must have been very pretty when she was younger.”
Scott steered her toward their car and said, “Yes, it is sad, but she seems to have accepted her circumstances. It’s interesting that she has such a good idea of what’s going on in this town.”
“You’re talking about when she told us that Mickey Fillmore, Bugs Moran’s henchman, had come to her yesterday asking where Carey was, right?”
“Yep. I’m beginning to think that Carey’s in hiding. He must owe those thugs a lot of money.”
“He does. Twenty-five thousand. I was told to give Carey a message after I escaped the kidnappers. Bugs Moran wanted his money.” Maggie laughed for a minute. “I told the driver to give Carey the message himself.”
“You were fantastic that day, love. I’m so proud of you. I still wish I could have protected you from the kidnapping. I don’t think I’ll ever forgive myself,” Scott said.
“It’s over, Scott. Let’s move on.”
They drove west on Sunset Boulevard. Scott marveled at the lack of traffic. He looked at his watch and saw that it was still too early to go to the speakeasy. “Would you like to get dinner?”
“I’d love to. Where do you want to eat?”
Scott didn’t know how much longer he would be in 1925 so he said, “I’d like to go back to The Coconut Grove.”
“Great. Let’s do it.”
They parked with the valet at The Ambassador Hotel. The lobby was deserted so they stopped and looke
d around. The tropical courtyard was filled with colorful plants. Sweet scents perfumed the air. Sweeping ceilings and Mediterranean styling created a posh, glamorous feel. Scott placed his hand at the small of Maggie’s back and they walked to the maître d’ standing at his podium at the entrance to The Coconut Grove.
“Welcome back, Mr. Forrester, Miss Ingram.” The maître d’ picked up two menus. “A table for two?”
“Yes, thank you,” Scott said. The man smiled and nodded. He headed into the lounge, weaved between tables and seated them at the center of the room. After he handed the menus to them he said, “Enjoy.”
They both ordered the broiled spring chicken with fresh asparagus tips. When they finished their entrees Scott asked Maggie to dance while waiting for their desserts to arrive. The dance was slow and romantic. Scott leaned forward and whispered in Maggie’s ear. “I love you.”
She pulled back and smiled at him. “I love you, too.”
Scott’s heart lurched when Maggie said those words. “That’s the first time you’ve told me you love me. Thank you.”
“I’m sorry,” Maggie said. “I should have said it sooner.” Scott tightened his hold on her and they swayed to the music. “Are all the men in your day this romantic?”
“No. They’re much less attentive to their wives and girlfriends.” He nuzzled her neck as they stepped around the floor.
“You are an unusual man, Scott Forrester.” Maggie stepped as close as decorum would allow and rubbed her nose with Scott’s.
When the song ended they headed back to their table. The waiter had set their chocolate mousse desserts at their places along with coffee and petit fours. “This looks delicious,” Maggie said.
“Delicious,” Scott repeated. But he wasn’t looking at the desserts. He leaned across the small round table, took Maggie’s soft hand in his and said, “I could eat you up right now.”
Scott laughed when her eyes widened and her mouth fell open. He saw the blush start at her neckline and race up her face. “Sweetheart. By now I’d think you’d be used to hearing how lovely you are from me. Be prepared. It’s never going to stop.”
Maggie picked up her spoon and dug into the mousse. She darted glances around the room to see if any of the nearby patrons had heard his comment. With a relieved sigh Maggie saw that no one paid them any attention. “I’m sure I’ll never get used to hearing that and I thank you.”
After they finished their meal Scott paid the fifteen dollar bill, including tip, and they left for their adventure.
Once again they drove west along Sunset Boulevard and turned right up the narrow lane to the hidden gambling abode. Scott parked the Rolls in the clearing making sure that no cars could block them from leaving when they wanted to. “I’m glad there are many other expensive cars here. Ours won’t stick out with all the Packards, Rolls-Royces and Lincolns.” Scott admired a Cadillac Coach with its blue paint, gleaming black fenders and silver headlamps. He trailed a finger along the fender marveling at the size of cars in this day. There was so much room in the backseat. Visions of him and Maggie raced through his mind. He felt like a teenager again.
“Are we going inside, or are you going to admire that car for a while longer?” Maggie asked.
Scott turned to her and sucked in a breath. “We’d better go in now, or the backseat of the Rolls will be occupied before you can shake your pretty head.”
“Scott Forrester! Are you saying what I think you’re saying?” Maggie giggled and covered her mouth.
Scott pulled her close and whispered, “Let me make it perfectly clear. One day I’m going to make love to you in the backseat of a 1925 automobile. Count on it.”
Before Maggie could respond Scott helped her up the steps to the speakeasy. He knocked on the rustic wooden door. Just like in the movies a slot opened up and two eyes peeked out. “Yeah?”
Hoping he was right and the old movies hadn’t exaggerated he said, “Joe sent me.”
The slot slammed shut and the door opened. The man stepped back and Scott and Maggie entered the speakeasy.
The first thing that Scott noticed was the cloud of smoke that hung over the room. He almost gagged. He held his breath for a minute hoping he wouldn’t die from secondhand smoke after one night in a speakeasy then slowly began to breathe again. He and Maggie stepped forward. A band played loud jazz music. The click and clank of the gaming tables along with laughter and trills fill the air. He stepped up to a craps table and watched the play for a minute.
“What do ya want to drink?” a cocktail waitress asked.
Maggie grabbed Scott’s hand. He knew she didn’t want him to drink, but they needed to fit in. “I’ll have a whiskey and the lady will have a champagne.”
When the waitress left Maggie whispered in his ear, “What are you doing? We could be thrown in jail for this!”
“We have to blend in. Just hold your drink. If you see any cops, toss it and run.”
Maggie gasped. “What about you?”
“I’ll be right behind you, sweetheart.” Scott threw some money on the craps table and played until the waitress came with their drinks. He took a swallow of whiskey and felt the familiar burn down his throat. God, he’d missed being able to drink. The liquor went to his head making him a little tipsy. Scott knew he had to moderate his drinking since it’d been a while since his last drink.
“Let’s see if Chambers is here.” They made their rounds trying to see every face in the room. The smoke obscured the view so much that Scott and Maggie needed to be face to face with the person before they could see what they looked like.
They had searched two rooms when a man said, “Say, aren’t you that Forrester fella and that Ingram doll that was on the front page of the newspaper the other day?”
“Yes, we are,” Scott said in a cautious but polite voice.
“Ya here for a little fun, huh,” the man winked at Maggie and peered closer. “Say. You sure are a stunner, doll. Wanna give me a little smooch? Then I can say I was kissed by a big movie star. Course, I can’t tell the wife.” The man laughed at his own joke.
Maggie moved closer to Scott. The man’s breath reeked of alcohol. Scott wrapped his arm protectively around Maggie and said to the man to distract him from his lecherous intentions, “You come here a lot?”
“Sure do, most every night. Gotta get away from the little lady, if ya know what I mean.” The man punched Scott in the arm and laughed again.
“Ever see Carey Chambers here?” Scott asked.
“Yeah! Nearly every night. But he don’t come in until the wee hours of the morning.” The drunk leaned closer. “That’s one mean man. I don’t know what the ladies see in him.”
Scott didn’t either but kept it to himself. “He ever meet anyone else here?”
“Yeah. All the time. Some goon from Chicago waltzes in here like he owns the joint and heads straight for Chambers. He and Chambers seems all buddy-buddy.” The man gulped the contents of his whiskey glass. “Don’t know what goes on between the two of ’em but one time they had a big argument. I thought Chambers wouldn’t be allowed back in here with all the damage he did. Found out the next night that he’d paid to have the place fixed up.” The drunk waved his glass at a passing waitress who rolled her eyes and took the glass. He swayed dangerously close to Maggie so Scott smoothly moved her to his other side. He felt her sigh in relief.
“So, you think Chambers will come in tonight?” Scott asked the drunk.
“Nah. Haven’t seen him in a couple a days. That’s unusual, too.” The man laughed. “He musta found a willing woman, cuz nothing keeps him away from here.”
A blonde woman in a short, scarlet dress with a nonexistent neckline sidled up to the drunk. “This where you been hiding yourself, Willie. Let’s go to the back room. I gotta get back to the old man soon.” Without a word to Scott and Maggie the drunk slid off the bar stool he’d been sitting on, waved and left with the woman.
Scott steered Maggie to a corner in the room. “Well, no
w we know he comes here. Whether he comes tonight or not is the question.”
The music was so loud that Maggie had to lean into him to hear him. “I don’t like this place, can we leave?”
Scott watched her eyes dart around the room. Maggie shifted from foot to foot and wrung her hands together. “Let’s wait a little longer. See if Chambers shows up.” He leaned close and said, “I won’t let you out of my sight, promise.”
Maggie nodded. She leaned against Scott and watched the people as they gambled and drank their illegal liquor.
They wandered into a third room where blackjack tables were set up. Men sat at the tables and women stood behind them. Cocktail waitresses held their trays high over their heads and weaved through the throng of people crowding the aisles. Once again cigarette smoke filled the room. If Scott thought about it he wouldn’t be able to breathe so he pushed the suffocating thought from his mind.
They finished searching the fourth room and were making the rounds again. People came and went constantly. Scott heard the doorman slide open the slot, ask for the password and slam the slot shut over and over again. He was on his second drink, Maggie still on her first when someone shouted, “Hey, Chambers! Where ya been?”
They saw Carey Chambers stride into the room. His face looked beat up and battered with cuts over one eyebrow, a black eye and a dark bruise on his chin. Chambers waved to the man and continued to the bar at the back of the room.
“Let’s go get him,” Scott said.
They had just approached the bar when Chambers turned and saw them. His eyes widened and one eyebrow rose. He leaned against the bar.
“God, man, you look a mess,” Scott said.
“Carey, what happened to you?” Maggie asked.
“Nothing to worry your little head over, darlin,” Chambers drawled. “What are you two doing in my hangout? How’d you find out about this place?”
“We stumbled on it, Carey,” Scott muttered. “Let’s go. Sid Goodman and Damon Westerly have been looking for you. You went missing two days ago.”
No Silent Christmas Page 18