Chapter Thirteen

Alice broke into a run, following the voice that had called out to them. She rounded the bend and saw a stocky man with a long mustache standing outside a ramshackle hut on the edge of the river, a beat-up dock in front of it. There was a small motor boat, maybe a sixteen-footer, tied at the dock.

“You found Sari?” she asked, barely stopping to catch her breath.

“Small lassie, about five? Dark braids and a talkative nature?”

“That’s her.” Hank came up behind her and put a hand protectively on her shoulder. “Where is she?”

The man nodded toward the cabin. “She fell asleep about twenty minutes ago. First, she told me all about her life and her family, and of course, her favorite, Uncle Hank. She’s Tomas’s daughter?” The last bit wasn’t entirely a question, more of a clarification.

“She is.” Hank gave a slight squeeze to her shoulder and she couldn’t understand the trepidation she felt coming from him. They’d found Sari. Everything was all right.

Alice held out her hand to the stranger, though clearly, he wasn’t a stranger to Hank.

“I’m Alice Grady,” she introduced herself.

The man looked her up and down in a way that made her feel distinctly uncomfortable. He took hold of her hand and shook it.

“Nice to meet you, Miss Grady. Jiggy Malone, at your service.”

So maybe that explained Hank’s reaction. She’d found Jiggy Malone. This wasn’t the time to ask the questions she had, but now she knew what he looked like and where to find him.

“You would be Sean Grady’s daughter?” Jiggy still gripped her hand

“I would.” Of course he knew her father. Everyone in town had known him, or so it seemed.

“I was in the Knights of Columbus with him,” he said, finally letting go of her hand. Somehow this didn’t surprise Alice at all.

“You are in the Knights of Columbus?” Hank asked, astounded skepticism in his voice.

“I’m a deep man, Hank. A very deep man.” He nodded toward the shack. “I suppose you want to see the little one.”

“She’s not hurt, is she?” Alice asked. Just because she was safely asleep now didn’t mean she hadn’t had misadventures on her way here.

“Tired and a bit muddy, a few scratches and scrapes, but those may have been from earlier, hard to tell.” Jiggy grinned, showing one gold tooth off to the side. “She’s fine.”

He led them into the shack where Sari was curled up on a cot, sound asleep, her hands tucked under her cheek, looking like a little angel. One glance told Alice that Sari was unharmed, and then she spared some attention to look around. Bare boards, with chinks letting the light through, made up the walls, although with only two small windows, one in the front and one in the back, there was not a lot of natural light in the shack. A gas lamp on a Formica-topped table cast a cozy glow. A spirit lamp with kettle sat on the table, along with two teacups, one empty, one still half full.

“She was thirsty, and the best I had to offer her was a bit of tea.”

“Very kind of you,” Alice said.

“Not at all,” Jiggy answered. “Just doing the Christian thing.”

Hank went straight to the cot and gently picked Sari up in his strong arms. She settled against his shoulder, waking up only long enough to look at him and murmur, “There you are, Uncle Hank. I was looking for you.” She patted his face with her tiny hand and drifted back to sleep.

Alice’s heart softened toward Hank even more. He tried to put on this veneer of a hardened man of the world, but he was as gentle as a teddy bear with this little girl.

“I can take you down the river in the boat,” Jiggy said, uncertainty in his words, as if he wasn’t sure how the suggestion would be taken.

“Thank you,” she said taking a step toward the dock.

“No,” Hank said firmly. “It will be easier to walk. There’s no place close to their house to tie up anyway.”

Jiggy shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

“Thank you very much.” Alice held out a hand to him. “Her mother will be grateful to know you kept her safe.”

The tips of Jiggy’s ears turned red. “Least I could do, least I could do,” he murmured.

“It’s getting dark,” she said to Hank as he turned to head down the path toward home. “Don’t you think it would make more sense to take him up on his offer of the boat?”

“No.”

The answer was so short and curt that it took her by surprise. Clearly there was a reason Hank didn’t want to spend more time with Jiggy than need be. Perhaps he knew of his involvement in rum running and disapproved of him. But he knew that Tomas was involved, and he thought of him as a brother. There was more here than met the eye, and she intended to find out what it was.

Hank walked quickly, and even though he was carrying the child, she struggled to keep up with him.

“You know Mr. Malone?” she asked, when the path narrowed, and he had to slow down some. It wasn’t precisely a question.

“I’ve met him before,” Hank admitted.

“I’ve heard rumors about him.” Alice tried to keep her voice neutral as she pushed branches out of her way.

Hank’s head jerked toward her and his brows came together in consternation. “There are rumors about everyone if you listen hard enough. Probably even about you.”

Her eyebrows shot up. She wasn’t expecting that sort of response. She figured he’d ask what kind of rumors and that would lead into a discussion about rum running and pirates and maybe give her some clues as to where to look for the reason for Tomas’s death. She didn’t think it was as simple as robbery.

He was trying to divert her. He wanted her to ask what rumors there could be about her. But she knew these kinds of tactics. She’d interviewed enough suspects, and the ones she hadn’t interviewed personally she’d typed up the reports of their conversations. And while it was natural for her to wonder what rumors there were about her, if any, she could probably guess. After all, she was a woman in what was traditionally a man’s role. There would be speculation that she had slept her way into her position or that she was too manly a woman to interest a real man. But rumors were just that, only rumors. She gave them no credence. Besides, she knew the truth. Anyone else could as well, if they cared to investigate.

Maybe a direct approach was better when dealing with Hank.

“Do you think he had anything to do with Tomas’s death?”

“I thought they caught the man who shot Tomas.” It wasn’t exactly an answer.

Was he hiding something from her? He clearly knew Jiggy, and presumably knew his activities. He knew that Tomas was a rum runner. What else did he know?

“How do you know Jiggy Malone?”

Hank sighed and shifted the sleeping child in his arms. “He has a boat. I have a boat. You get to know people.”

Undoubtedly that was true, but she suspected there was more to it than that.

Sari stirred, and raised her head, opening her eyes and looking around. “I want to go home, Uncle Hank.”

“We’re going there now,” he said gently.

Alice’s shoulders slumped slightly. So much for getting any information from him about Jiggy. But it didn’t matter. She knew where to find Jiggy herself now. It was enough.

The silence was now broken by a newly energized Sari.

“I had an adventure! I wanted to help Ernst and Kristof work on the boat. It sounded like fun. I wanted to swab. I bet I could swab. Do you think I could swab, Uncle Hank?”

“I think you’d be a master swabber,” he answered cheerfully.

“But I didn’t find your boat. I looked all along the river but didn’t see it.”

“You should have waited for someone to take you.” There was no censure in his voice. “It’s not on the river, but on the Arthur Kill.”

“Oh.” Sari took a moment to absorb this information. “Next time?”

“We’ll see.”

“Jiggy gave me tea. He’s nice. He says he has the gift of blarney. Do you think I can get that gift too? I like gifts. What’s blarney?”

Alice smiled as the girl prattled on and on and Hank answered when she paused long enough. Walking behind him, she enjoyed the view of his lean, muscular body. He moved with the grace of an athlete. She could appreciate it now that they had found Sari safe and sound.

It didn’t take them long to get back to the house, where Marty was keeping the boys occupied by playing poker with them. She threw down her cards when they came in carrying Sari.

“Oh! Thank goodness she’s okay. Where was she?”

“She was by the river,” Hank answered, and it was not lost on Alice that he didn’t mention Jiggy’s hut. He set Sari down and she was immediately besieged by her brothers, who wanted to know everything. “I’ll go find Douglas and Irene and tell them Sari is safe.”

Marty pulled Alice into the kitchen, leaving the door open so they could keep one eye on the children. It wouldn’t do if they lost one of them now. Marty poured a cup of tea for Alice from the waiting pot and then put the kettle on the stove. “Irene will want a cup, I’m sure, when she gets back. She’ll appreciate a fresh pot.”

“And I don’t?”

“You let your tea sit so long before you drink it, it’s usually lukewarm by the time you get to it anyway. The old tea will do fine for you.” Leave it to a younger sister to not pull any punches. “She was by the river?”

“An old fisherman found her and kept her safe in his hut. She was trying to get to Hank’s boat but followed the river instead of going to Sewaren.”

“Lucky that old fisherman was around.”

Alice held the cup of tea in her hands and took a sip. She nodded absently. Lucky indeed. But the real luck was that she now knew who Jiggy was and where to find him. His secluded hut on the river would be a perfect spot for rum runners to bring in their contraband, if that, indeed was what he was up to.

“Alice?”

By the way Marty said her name, Alice suspected she’d said it more than once.

“What?”

“You were a hundred miles away.”

“Sorry. Just relieved we found Sari.”

“Right. I suppose spending some quality time with Hank didn’t hurt either.”

Alice’s face flushed, and she knew her cheeks were turning red, but there was no point in trying to lie to her little sister. “No, it didn’t.”

Before long, Hank was back with Douglas and Irene. Irene scooped her little girl up and held her tight, speaking rapidly to her in Hungarian. Alice didn’t know what she was saying but based on tone and body language she suspected it was along the lines of “I was so worried. I’m glad you are all right. I love you. Don’t you dare scare me like that again.”

There would be no typing lesson tonight.

“I’ll leave the typewriter here and come back tomorrow,” Alice said to Irene, who was ensconced on her sofa, still holding Sari tight.

“Not tomorrow. The viewing for Tomas is tomorrow, and the funeral Wednesday. Maybe come back Thursday?” Irene said, looking up at her with entreating eyes.

“Of course.” How could she not have taken the wake and funeral into account?

“I’ll drive you girls home,” Douglas said, already standing in the doorway.

Hank held up one hand to hold his brother off and turned to Irene.

“Have you had dinner?”

She looked up at him as if startled by the question.

“I didn’t think so,” Hank said and turned to his brother. “You take Marty home. Alice and I will cook Irene and the kids some dinner.”

Douglas and Marty didn’t waste any time leaving.

“I can’t actually cook,” Alice said to Hank, following him into the kitchen. It was rather embarrassing to admit it, but it would be silly to hide the fact.

“That’s okay, I can.” He handed her an apron. “You can be my assistant.”

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 compelled 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.