Trouble Boys (White Lightning Book 5)

by Debra Dunbar

  “You look better,” Maria said to break the silence. “Did you sleep?”

  “I did. Miraculously.”

  “He’s good for you.”

  Hattie smiled, feeling a little giddy with happiness at her words. “Ready for a busy day?”

  Maria nodded. “You said we’re tailing Masseria’s people?”

  “How well do you know Betty Sharp? The glass pincher?”

  “Reputation only.”

  “Then you know how difficult this will be.”

  “How does she figure in all of this?”

  Hattie stepped away from the window to face Maria. “She’s suddenly, annoyingly, the lynchpin of our entire scheme. Come on. I’ll explain on the way.”

  Chapter 18

  Vincent pulled open the window to his room at the Monarch, slipping in from the fire escape while the morning rush stood frozen on the street below him. Once inside, he released the flow of time and pulled off his shirt to change before running a comb over his head. Looking in the mirror, he decided he didn’t have time to deal with the stubble rising on his jawline. Snatching his hat and jacket, he stepped into the hallway to check on Lefty and Buddy.

  As he passed Lefty’s room, he found the door open.

  “Vincent?” Lefty called from inside the room.

  “You ready?” He peered inside.

  Lefty stood at the window staring down at the street. “Almost.”

  “Where’s Buddy?” Vincent asked.

  “I sent him on ahead.” Lefty turned to Vincent. “Step inside and close the door.”

  Vincent felt a twinge in his gut. This was Lefty’s business face. Something was wrong. He complied, stepping into the room and closing the door.

  “There’s been a development you need to know about before we go to Masseria’s,” Lefty informed him.

  Vincent released a slow breath. “Yeah?”

  “This O’Toole thing you and Hattie have cooked up is about ready to blow up in your faces. Catena knows she brokered a deal with Maranzano.”

  Vincent leaned against the door. None of this was news to him. He could work with this. “Yeah. So she’s got Maranzano distracted. It’ll be easier for us to reel him in this way.”

  Lefty scowled. “You know that cash haul Maranzano’s people nicked from Masseria two nights ago? Word broke…every cent of it was spent last night. Thirty-five-some-odd boys from Cleveland and Rochester are on their way along with three crates from an Army surplus store on the Hudson. Thompson repeaters and old army issue Colt revolvers, and enough ammo to melt their barrels.”

  “That was a quick turnaround,” Vincent admitted, suddenly worried that Hattie was going to be put on the spot to pay for triggers and fingers when he knew she didn’t have enough to afford all that.

  “You and I both know Malloy doesn’t make enough scratch from Crew business on the bay and her little side gig knocking off shipments—and don’t think I don’t know about all that—to pay for that sort of muscle. And when she welshes on Maranzano, she’s going to be in a bag in the river. That also leaves him with a standing army in New York City.”

  Lefty took a step forward. “Which brings me to my next worry. You sneaking out every single night.”

  The floor dropped out from underneath Vincent. His heart leapt into his throat as waves of panic washed through him. “Um…”

  Lefty scowled. “That window in your room isn’t as quiet as you seem to think it is,” Lefty said. “You’ve been sneaking out every night since we checked into the Monarch. At first, I figured you were visiting Miss Malloy, getting rid of the kid so you could meet with your gal.”

  Vincent attempted to deflect, but Lefty lifted a hand to silence him.

  “I paid a delivery boy to follow you a couple days. He had trouble staying with you. I’m guessing you used your powers once or twice. That shook him. But not last night. He followed you all the way to Brooklyn Heights. Said you spent the night there.” Lefty took another step forward, lowering his voice. “If my boy can follow you, so can others. You’re putting her in danger. You’re putting yourself in danger. You’re putting all of us in danger.”

  Vincent’s heart sank back into his chest, his hand balling into fists. He clamped his jaw shut and said nothing.

  Lefty turned away with a shake of his head. “I knew O’Toole was Malloy since she bought the boatlegging business from Lizzie Saddler. I mean, an Irish woman playing the part of an Irish woman? I get it. Easier to keep the accents straight, but it’s a bit on the nose. And you know, I didn’t mind. She was getting the job done. At first. Then we start losing barrels. And crew. And now…this.”

  Vincent stared at his own shoes.

  “What kills me, though? What eats my guts? You kept me in the cold when I coulda told you this wouldn’t work. You didn’t trust me enough to at least…at the very least…keep you from getting yourself killed.” Lefty took a breath. “I would’ve told you Maranzano saw right through you, and that Masseria is at the very least suspicious.”

  Vincent snapped his head up to glare at Lefty.

  Lefty continued, “You don’t think Maranzano agreed to O’Toole’s proposition just a little too quick? With no negotiation? You don’t think this cash room heist wasn’t already planned out? That it wasn’t meant to purchase those guns from the start? He has no intention of letting her have those men or those guns.”

  A new wave of panic flooded through Vincent’s stomach. The clarity of Lefty’s words filled him with dread.

  “You think maybe you got Maranzano where you want him, armed to the teeth and ready for war? It never occurred to you that’s where he wanted to be all along? He just needed a pretext. And the two of you gave it to him.”

  Vincent swallowed hard.

  “I know you were involved when everything got swiped from the cash room. It’s how they got in and out.” He turned and smacked the flat of his fist against the wall. “Damn it, Vincent! If you’d… I could’ve explained it all to you. Kept it from getting this far. I might have saved you. Luciano’s gonna get you killed, Vincent. And he’ll get Miss Malloy killed as well.”

  Vincent cleared his throat, trying to speak a couple times before he gave up.

  Lefty wiped his hand over his face, rubbing the back of his head with a sigh. “Why, Vincent? Why would you cut me out like this?”

  Vincent didn’t answer.

  “Are you angry with me? Did I do anything at all to deserve this?”

  “It’s not that.”

  “What’s your end game, here? I don’t understand it. Even if Masseria and Maranzano end up six feet under, and Luciano’s in charge…where does that leave you? Where does that leave Vito? Is this for the Crew?”

  Vincent’s eyes hardened.

  Lefty shook his head. “Or, are you ready to lead a revolution. Is that it? Is this about pincher freedom?” He stood up again. “Is that why you shut me out? You see me as your slave master with my hand on the whip.”

  Vincent stared into Lefty’s eyes. “Lefty, you are the whip.”

  Lefty blinked at the words and turned away. “Vincent, you really don’t know me, do you? And you have no idea how deep you are in this.”

  “You really think I don’t know? You think I didn’t know going in that this might end up with both me and Hattie killed?”

  “You’re okay with that?”

  Vincent walked forward and reached for Lefty, clamping a hand onto his good shoulder. “Things have to change. And there are some things worth dying for.”

  Lefty peered over his shoulder at Vincent. “When? When did you turn? Was it Ithaca?”

  “It was a lot of things.”

  Lefty shrugged off his hand and withdrew to the window. “Things have to change, huh? How many centuries have pinchers been right where they are now? How many times have they risen up, only to start the cycle over again? Nothing changes, Vincent.”

  “Nothing changes because people like you keep insisting that they don’t.”

  Le
fty nodded. “You know, I’ve been around pinchers most of my life. I loved one, once. I still love her, although I’ve got no idea where she is, or if she’s alive or dead.”

  Vincent blinked, straightening a little.

  Lefty pressed his forehead against the pane of glass. “The things we did together, the things we saw. I went to hell for her, and she took me to heaven. And after all of that, do you know where we both ended up? Right where we began.” He turned to face Vincent. “This isn’t some theory for me. I’ve seen more of this world than you. That’s not a rebuke, you need to understand.”

  Vincent stuffed his hands into his pockets. “I didn’t know that about you. I didn’t know you and a pincher…”

  “There’s a lot you don’t know. Which is why I’m trying to help you.”

  Vincent stared at the other man, feeling like a complete chump. Had he gotten Lefty wrong? The man had always been there for him, but if it came to a choice between his vow to Vito and Vincent, which direction would he stand?”

  “Yeah, okay. What do we do now?” Vincent finally said, wanting to know what Lefty had on his mind as far as a plan.

  “Well, you obviously can’t leave town.” Lefty began to pace. “Corbi would feed you to the dogs, and Masseria would use it as an excuse to strike at Maranzano before his army arrived. Best thing you can do now is to break off whatever you got going on with Maranzano. Then, become useless. Polite. Cordial. But useless. Your only exit is for Masseria to kick you out of the city. And Miss Malloy needs to leave right now and head back to Baltimore.”

  Vincent scowled. “I have no interest in being useless.”

  “Yeah, well you’re about to put Maranzano on top of the New York families. He’ll take controlling interest of Ithaca, and with his forces depleted he’ll farm pinchers harder than ever before.”

  “Then I stick with Luciano’s plan. Both houses fall.”

  Lefty shook his head. “You’re still not reading me. Luciano’s a patsy. I’ve seen the man in action. He thinks he’s smarter than he is, but he’s a follower by nature. There’s no way this doesn’t end with Luciano dead and Masseria or Maranzano squeezing the life out of the entire East Coast.”

  “I disagree. You said it yourself. They want a war. They just need an excuse.”

  “Vito wins if Masseria wins.”

  “Maybe I don’t want Vito to win.”

  Lefty crossed his arms. “Yeah, I see that now.”

  “I know you’re a man who values loyalty, Lefty. But as long as he’s in charge of Baltimore, there can be no life for me,” Vincent told him.

  Lefty eyed him. “You mean for you and Miss Malloy.”

  Vincent’s eyes stung as tears threatened to well up.

  Lefty shook his head. “You can’t take these men down.”

  Vincent wiped his eyes, then wagged a finger in the air. “Masseria has a blind spot.”

  “What blind spot?”

  “Catena.”

  Lefty chuckled. “He’s no blind spot.”

  Vincent urged, “But he is. O’Toole has impressed him, and he’s hedging his bets. Hattie’s good at this. Better than any of us thought. She can play that old man. And the more we know about Maranzano, the easier her job becomes. Plus, Maranzano’s got his own blind spot.”

  Lefty thought it over. “Betty Sharp?”

  Vincent nodded. “Betty Sharp. I have Hattie on the hunt for her today. We keep her from Luciano’s pinchers, and Maranzano has the pincher power to keep Masseria cautious.”

  “You really think that woman can be controlled?”

  “No. But, God help me I can’t believe I’m about to say this, I think she can be reasoned with.”

  Lefty grinned. “Well, I’m out of my depth on that one.” He reached for Vincent’s arm. “I do value loyalty. Which is why this stings. I don’t betray my oaths. You know that. But I’ve also vowed to keep you alive. If I can’t sway you from this path, then you’ll have to tell me how I can help you.”

  Vincent grinned as the tears he was fighting slipped free of his eyes. “Just keep the rookie out of my way.”

  Lefty nodded. “Come on. They’ll be waiting for us.”

  Chapter 19

  Hattie slipped with ease between the shoulders of the lunchtime crowd as she followed the two pinchers. There was no need to even conceal herself from their notice with magic. The cloud of humanity did all the work. Besides, she didn’t need to be Brigid today.

  The taller one, the lanky black man with the hat who had crept up on her in Maranzano’s speakeasy, was easier to follow. He stood head and shoulders above the rest of the New Yorkers. Not to mention the cowboy hat really stood out among the derbies and bowlers.

  His companion, the shorter, red-faced bruiser with a permanent scowl, faded into the dull gray press of jackets and working clothes on the street. Of the two, he moved with more suspicion, continually peering over his shoulders. August only ever looked forward, his confidence unshakable.

  They’d taken a car into the Bronx, moving north to the outside edge of town. Maria nicked a car for them to follow the pinchers. Hattie didn’t bother asking where she found it, or how she planned to return it. Maria dropped Hattie off, then took the car around the block, circling in case they needed a quick exit. Hattie wasn’t entirely sold on the need for that much caution, but she deferred to Maria’s experience with gangsters.

  The pinchers led Hattie to a grotto on the border of Queens, a complex of run-down masonry flats, some with laundry hanging from the windows. Power lines crisscrossed the open space between buildings, the walks below covered in pigeon droppings. Following at a safe distance, she crept up the stairwell as the two men tread down the second-floor hall. As soon as they vanished from sight, she peered around the corner of the corridor, watching as the men counted down doors, stopping at the third room on the right.

  The shorter of the two gave the door a good knock while Augustus lingered by the side, taking cover from whatever Betty decided to send at them. The other pincher didn’t seem overly concerned about flying glass.

  They stood for a moment without a response. The short pincher knocked again, and finally shrugged at Augustus.

  “I’m gonna check,” Augustus muttered as he pulled off his hat, handing it to his compatriot.

  Running a hand along the seam between the door and its frame, Augustus stepped sideways as his body slipped inch by inch through the crack. Hattie squinted, her stomach twisting a little from the bizarre sight. Augustus disappeared inside the apartment, and his partner leaned against the wall, arms crossed.

  After a long wait, Augustus slipped back through the crack.

  “Place is empty,” he declared. “She’s probably outta town.”

  His partner grumbled, “Or she’s just waiting for us to leave.”

  Augustus smirked. “She don’t got that sorta patience, hoss.”

  “Yeah. You got a point.”

  The two turned to approach the stairs. Hattie pinched light around her, disappearing into the corner of the stairwell.

  “You think that time pincher from Baltimore’s gonna kick up a fuss with our dear Madame Sharp?” Augustus asked his partner as they rounded the landing.

  “They definitely got some history,” his partner replied. “Boy’s got skills, though. Luciano says we should use him any chance we get.”

  Augustus nodded. “What’re the odds we can poach that boy from Baltimore, you think?”

  “Dunno. Don’t care.”

  They stepped out of the building, the door slamming shut behind them.

  Hattie crept down the stairs, watching as they returned to the street, then released her pinch of invisibility.

  Maria trotted across the courtyard after a few minutes, ducking inside the stairwell with Hattie. “No one’s home?” she asked.

  “They say she’s out of town,” Hattie replied.

  “Then why are we still here, and not following them?”

  Hattie glanced up the stairs. “Instin
ct, perhaps?”

  “You think she’s actually there?”

  Hattie shook her head. “I suspect our counterparts wouldn’t have left if they weren’t thorough. But I don’t think she’s skipped town.”

  “You want to wait?” Maria prodded. “It might take a while. No way of telling when or if Betty will show up.”

  Hattie nodded. “True. If you have a better idea, then I’m interested.”

  Maria sighed. “Right. Well, come on.”

  “Where are we going?” Hattie asked as Maria pushed open the exit doors.

  She led Hattie around the corner of the building, running her fingertips along the outside masonry. “Which one is it?”

  Hattie eyed the length of the building, counting windows. “Here, I think.”

  Maria closed her eyes and curled her fingers into the stone of the building. “Yeah. Empty.”

  Hattie smiled. “You can tell from touch? That’s brilliant.”

  “Vibrations. It’s not exactly like tuning a radio, but if it’s quiet in the other apartments I can tell.” She opened her eyes. “It’ll be easier at night.”

  “Then we come back at night,” Hattie declared.

  They did return after sunset, both decked out in their new dresses. Maria led them around the rear of the building, stepping through the shadows to a spot below Betty’s window. Maria checked the wall, slipping her fingertips into the masonry.

  “There’s still a lot of noise. Radios. Kitchen racket.”

  Hattie nodded. “It should quiet down as it gets later.”

  “This is home for a while, then.”

  They huddled up shoulder-to-shoulder, backs against the building. “If only we had a deck of bloody playing cards.”

  Maria snickered. “I suppose we could talk.”

  Hattie shook her head. “I think I’ve had enough talking.”

  After a few minutes, Maria gave it another shot. “You look a lot healthier today.”

  “Remarkable, the powers of sleep.”

  “It was Vincent, wasn’t it?”