The Rum Runner

by Christine Marciniak

  Happy warmth flooded her as she put the apron on.

  “Okay, chief, what can I do?”

  “That is the key question. You say you can’t cook. Can you cut up vegetables?”

  “Aye, aye, Captain.” She gave him a salute which he returned with a grin. “And I am not completely helpless in the kitchen. It’s just that I’m out working every day, and Mama makes dinner. I don’t really have the opportunity.”

  He handed her some potatoes he found in the pantry.

  “What are we making?” she asked, gripping the potatoes.

  “Nothing that has to simmer too long,” Hank said, apparently thinking as he went. “It’s late and they’re hungry.” He peeked in the icebox and took out some ham. “We’ll fry up some ham and potatoes. It’s a bit lacking in the greenery department, as my mother would say, but it will get something in their bellies, and it won’t take long to do.”

  Alice peeled and sliced the potatoes while Hank melted some lard in a frying pan and cut the ham. Frying ham and potatoes was something she probably could have managed on her own. She wondered how much of a cook Hank really was. How much did he have to cook for himself?

  She couldn’t imagine any of her fellow officers even knowing how to melt lard, but yet she also couldn’t picture a more masculine man than Hank. He was a bevy of contradictions. Would she ever really get to know him?

  “Where did you learn to cook?” Alice asked as Hank layered the ham and potatoes in the frying pan.

  “We take turns when we are out at sea,” he explained. “Can’t say I do gourmet meals, but I won’t starve.”

  “Most men look for a woman to do the cooking for them.”

  “I’m not most men.” He stirred the food around a bit as it sizzled.

  That much was clear.

  “Don’t want to share your kitchen?” she teased. He intrigued her, and she wanted to understand him. He was a puzzle to solve. And there was, unwanted, in the dark recesses of her mind, a picture of her sharing his kitchen. It wasn’t such a bad thought.

  “Don’t want to share my life,” he answered shortly, not returning teasing for teasing.

  Alrighty then. The door slammed on that unbidden image in her mind.

  “Because of the nightmares?”

  “Among other things.”

  “You know,” she said, suspecting she was entering very dangerous territory and should perhaps back off, but forging ahead nonetheless, “some married couples have separate beds, or even separate bedrooms. You don’t have to be alone just because of nightmares.”

  Would it sound like she was angling for him to propose to her? She certainly hoped not. She just wanted him to know he didn’t have to be alone.

  He sighed and leaned against the sink, crossing his arms. “I’m a person who is better off alone. That’s all.”

  Then why had he kissed her? Why had he awakened all these feelings in her if he wasn’t going to follow through on them?

  “Why? Do you turn into a wolf on the full moon?”

  “Something like that.”

  Alice studied his face. He wanted to be forbidding and off-putting, that was clear from his words and his stance. He wanted her to think he didn’t want her to come close to him. But there was something in his eyes. Something just a little needy or inviting. Maybe she was imagining it, but maybe not.

  She looked straight into those eyes and said, “I rather like wolves.”

  A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, and if he was trying to repress it, he failed.

  “I suspect you do.”

  Their moment of connection was broken by Ernst and Kristof running into the kitchen.

  “That smells good. We’re hungry!”

  Hank’s attention shifted to the boys. He put on a big smile.

  “Good thing, because I wouldn’t want this food to go to waste.”

  “Wash your hands,” Alice said automatically as the boys started to sit at the table. They groaned, but obediently went to the sink to wash up.

  Irene, holding Sari by the hand, came into the kitchen, a look of delight on her face.

  “I can’t remember the last time someone cook for me. Thank you so much.”

  Alice took plates from the cupboard and brought them to Hank, who filled them with ham and potatoes. Then she placed one in front of each member of the family. She had brought a plate for Hank as well, but he dished up all the food before he got to his.

  “Aren’t you going to eat?” she asked.

  “I’m not taking food from them. I’ll get something when I go home. And you?”

  “Ate before I came over.” The food smelled good and she wouldn’t mind a taste, but she was not taking food from the family either. She pulled Hank aside and said quietly, “Should we stay and do the dishes?” She felt they should finish what they started, but yet it seemed odd to simply stay here and watch the family eat.

  “No, no!” Irene looked up from her meal. “The boys, they will wash the dishes. Thank you for all you have done!”

  “Our pleasure.” Hank unwrapped the apron from around his waist. “If you need anything else, you know where to find me.”

  “Can we come work on the boat again tomorrow, Uncle Hank?” Kristof asked, before shoving another forkful of food in his mouth.

  Hank hesitated, looking at the boys and then at Irene, whose mouth was set in a thin straight line.

  “Maybe not tomorrow. Stay here and play with Sari. Keep her out of trouble so your ma can get things done around the house. That is a way of helping too, you know.”

  “But we can come again, sometime, right?” Ernst asked, eyes bright and eager.

  “I’ll work it out with your ma. But now eat up, and then I’m sure you’ll have to go to bed soon. Tomorrow is a school day.”

  Alice hung her apron beside Hank’s and smiled at Irene. “I’ll come Thursday. Same time. And we’ll have a lesson.”

  “Thank you, Officer Grady. Thank you.”

  “Please, call me Alice. It will be so much nicer working together if we can be friends.”

  “Thank you, Alice.”

  With that, goodbyes were said, and she and Hank left the family to settle in for the night.

  “I’ll walk you home,” Hank said as they stepped out onto the front porch.

  She started to say that it wasn’t necessary, she lived only a few blocks away, and it wasn’t that terribly late. But yet she rather wanted to continue this time with Hank, even if he had said he didn’t want to share his life with anyone. They could still share tonight. She had no problem letting him walk her home.

  “I’d appreciate that.”

  The night had turned chilly and it felt like it might rain, even though the moon shone brightly. Alice shivered a little at the thought of what might have happened to Sari had they not found her, or rather, had she not stumbled upon Jiggy and his hut.

  “Are you cold?” Hank asked.

  “No, a mouse just ran over my grave.” Her mother’s expression came naturally.

  “Sounds unpleasant,” he deadpanned.

  Alice laughed. “I suppose so. Just thinking how glad I am that Sari is okay.”

  “It would have just about killed Irene if she hadn’t been.”

  That was undoubtedly true.

  “You are a good friend to the Nagy family.” Alice wondered if perhaps Hank was a bit sweet on the widow? Was that why he was so helpful?

  “You are as well. I’m sorry I gave you a hard time about it the other day.”

  She’d almost forgotten their first encounter, when he’d been so rude.

  “You were upset about your friend.” She reached out and gently touched his sleeve. “I understand.”

  They turned down Pearl Street and watched as a train pulled into the station, disgorging passengers from New York City.

  “Would you like to come in for a cup of coffee, or even some food?” Alice offered as they neared her house. “You must be starving.” It wasn’t so much that she felt comp
elled to feed him but rather that she didn’t want her time with him to end.

  “I’m fine. I had better get back on home, though. Thank you.”

  So he didn’t care if their time together ended. She took a deep breath. She could deal with that. She was used to being alone, after all.

  “Afraid of the full moon?” she asked, one eye skyward.

  He looked confused.

  “What with being a werewolf and all?” She quirked an eyebrow at him and tried to keep from smiling.

  He grinned. “Yes, that’s it. Must get home before I change.”

  They walked up the steps to the wraparound porch, the yellow light by the door casting a welcoming glow. She would like him to kiss her good night, but he was hanging back, and that didn’t seem like it was going to happen. She opened the door.

  “I’d better be going,” Hank said, and took off into the night.

  Maybe he really was a werewolf. Whether he was or not, he clearly was not the person for her, as much as she might like to daydream about it. Time to move back to reality. She stepped inside and shut the door.

  Chapter Fourteen

  He had to warn Jiggy. He’d known that from the first time Alice spotted the hut. The thought had come crashing back at him while they were preparing dinner. She was tenacious, and she was determined, and she would bring them all down if given the chance.

  He headed straight back to the shack. The full moon kept the path fairly well lit, but he still wished he were in a boat, approaching Jiggy’s place by water instead. He always felt much more confident on the water. No light pierced the darkness, and as he got closer, he had to acknowledge that Jiggy wasn’t there.

  He breathed a sigh of relief. If he wasn’t there, then Alice couldn’t confront him tonight. He still had to warn him, though. He’d have to head into Perth Amboy and see if he could find him at one of his other haunts.

  Hank walked out into the night, back toward the causeway. The night air was cool and crisp, and the full moon shone brightly overhead. He thought of Alice’s remark about werewolves and grinned to himself. She wouldn’t mind a wolf, she said, but what would she think of a criminal? Bet that wouldn’t be so attractive to her.

  Maybe he should stop rum running. The risks were starting to outweigh the benefits, and he’d rather like getting to know Alice a little better without having to worry that she was going to arrest him. He got to the road and headed east toward Sewaren and home, as the night birds accompanied him with their music.

  But would it be fair to his crew if he stopped the rum running? Many of them depended on that extra money. They couldn’t make that kind of cash from scallops alone.

  Maybe he’d buy a schooner, see if Slim and Swede wanted to crew for him, and sail to the Caribbean. There he could drink rum on the beach and think about nothing all day.

  He kicked a stone out of the street. That would be running away from his problems, and he didn’t do that. Then again, what were all those weeks spent at sea but a way to escape the nightmares left over from the war? Maybe he did run away from his problems after all. What would be wrong with doing it one more time?

  Would Alice enjoy lazing on a Caribbean beach? He shook his head to clear it of the thought. Alice would never run away with him; he might as well just get that stupid thought out of his head right now.

  Back at the house, he raided the icebox for leftovers and then joined his mother in the drawing room, where she was reading a book. He’d have to see if he could borrow his brother’s car to head into Amboy.

  “When do you take the Mary B back out again?” she asked, marking her place with her finger.

  “Trying to get rid of me so soon?” He kept his tone light but still wondered if perhaps he should take offense.

  “Hardly. Rather the opposite, I want to know how long we’ll have you home for.”

  “Probably go out again on Friday.”

  “You should wait another day or two. Another weekend at home to relax and enjoy yourself.”

  “I don’t enjoy myself at home.” He wondered if that was still true. He’d actually had a good time dancing with Alice, and dining with Alice, and kissing Alice.

  Why did everything keep coming back to Alice? He needed to get back on the Mary B and out to sea before she took over his mind completely.

  “Douglas seemed to think you had a good time the other day.” His mother gave him that raised-eyebrow all-knowing look that mothers have.

  “Douglas doesn’t know anything,” he said, as if he and his brother were kids again and caught in some argument.

  “I think I know quite a lot, actually,” Douglas said as he came into the room, a half-eaten cookie in his hand. He leaned against the door jamb. “What is it I supposedly don’t know anything about?”

  “If I had fun at the club,” Hank answered, wishing he could go out to his boat right now. Everything was so much easier on the boat.

  “Of course you had fun at the club. In fact, I’d even go so far as to say you are falling in love with Miss Alice Grady.”

  He jumped up from his seat and stalked across the room.

  “And I say, again, that you don’t know what you are talking about.” He strode down the hall and out the front door, shutting it behind him with a satisfying slam.

  He kept walking, heading automatically toward the Mary B. The one place he could get some peace.

  It wasn’t long before he heard the slapping of shoe leather on pavement. He didn’t break stride. There was no reason to make it easier for his brother to catch up with him. When he did, he put one hand on Hank’s shoulder, panting as if he’d just run a marathon.

  Hank pushed the hand away. “You spend way too much time sitting behind a desk,” he said, “to be winded that easily.”

  “Yeah. Whatever. Where are you going?”

  “Where do you think?”

  “Come with me to Mulberry House.”

  “I want to go on the boat.” Though what he really needed to do was go to Amboy. Mulberry House was in Amboy. That could work out for him.

  “I could use a drink,” Douglas said.

  Hank sighed. He could provide a drink for Douglas on the Mary B, but maybe it was better if Douglas didn’t know that.

  “Fine. We’ll go to Mulberry House.”

  They were silent as they walked back to the house and Douglas cranked the car to start it.

  “You should buy a car.” Douglas settled himself in the driver’s seat.

  “Why?” Hank answered. “I spend more time on sea than on land.”

  “When you settle down. Won’t it be nice to have a family car?”

  Hank had to stop himself from hopping out of the car right then and there. If he did, he knew Douglas would only follow him. Might as well see it through and get a drink.

  “I am as settled as I’m going to be.”

  “I don’t know.” Douglas grinned at him. “You and Officer Grady make a sweet-looking couple.”

  “No.” He clenched his hands. He would not think of her that way. He would go back out to sea. He would get away from people. It was for the best.

  But he did have to see her again. He needed to get her off Jiggy’s trail. If not for his sake, for her own.

  Douglas parked his car down the block from Mulberry House, and once again, a few words to the man at the door had them ensconced in the back room, this time sitting at the bar. Hank ordered a martini and Douglas a Tom Collins, as always.

  “Glad the kid was all right tonight,” Douglas said as they watched the bartender mix their drinks.

  “She gave us quite a scare but seems none the worse for her adventure.”

  The bartender handed over their drinks, and they laid their money on the bar.

  “Dad’s buying the Katinka,” Douglas said, and Hank nodded, sipping his drink. Dad had told him he was planning on doing that.

  “He wants me to skipper her.”

  Hank spit his mouthful of martini across the bar, to the disgusted look of the
bartender and other patrons. He grabbed a napkin and wiped it up and turned to his brother.

  “You?”

  “Yeah, crazy right?”

  “Do you want to?”

  “No. I have no interest in spending weeks at a time with only men around. There is nothing about that which appeals to me.”

  “It’s not as bad as all that.” He rather enjoyed the time in the company of men, when he could simply be himself.

  “I suppose it might be worth it, if the only business being conducted wasn’t in scallops.” Douglas gave him a searching look, and he strove to keep his expression neutral.

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he said.

  Douglas let his glance sweep the speakeasy to make sure no one was paying any attention to them and leaned closer to Hank. “Oh, come on, everyone knows Tomas was rum running, and that it was lucrative. How could I get into that business?”

  Hank stared at his younger brother. He did not want him involved in the rum running. It was getting too dangerous, and there was no reason why Douglas should take risks like that. He should stay working in the office of Chapman & Sons and marry cute little Marty Grady and have pretty babies. That’s what he needed to do. He did not need to get involved with pirates or dodging the law.

  He finished his martini in one long swallow.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he lied.

  As he put his glass down on the counter, he spotted Jiggy at a table in the corner. “I got to talk to someone,” he said to Douglas, and without further explanation he headed for Jiggy.

  Jiggy raised one eyebrow but didn’t put down his drink, when Hank approached.

  “Fancy meeting you here,” he said. “We can’t talk here, though. Come into the back with me.”

  Hank had always figured this was the back of Mulberry House, but Jiggy stood up and led him to a storeroom filled with crates of wine and barrels of liquor. Jiggy perched on a barrel marked Rum and leveled a steady gaze at Hank.

  “I trust the little girl is fine.”

  “She is.”

  “Good. Now, about that lady cop you brought to my place.”

  Hank steadied himself against one of the barrels. He knew. Jiggy already knew Alice was a cop. Okay. That was good, really. It meant he would take the proper precautions. He’d been going to warn him anyway.