Chapter 21




Daniel strolled down the raucous street, his hands jammed into his pockets, soaking in the jazz piano strains wafting out into the night. As long as he stayed outside, he’d be fine.

Dark blinds obscured the view into some of the establishments, but light poured out of the windows of one and Daniel identified some of the soda fountain regulars circling the gambling tables.

A woman in a low-cut flapper dress leaned out a second story window and called to him. “Hey there, handsome!” Her fingers twisted a long string of jet beads, accentuating the milky white skin of her bare shoulders. “Why don’t you come in and have some fun?”

He pushed back his hat. “It’s a nice evening for a walk.”

She stuck out her lower lip in a childlike pout. “I think it feels a little nippy out there.” She wrapped claw-like fingers around her lanky arms, the ornate dress sparkling in the low light. “Why don’t you let me warm you up a bit, first? It’s a great night for dancing, if you got a mind to. Or I can deal out some cards. Anything you’d like!”

He chuckled and shook his head.

She sat down on the edge of the sill, dangling one long leg over the edge. “I’m sure we could find something you’d enjoy.”

He waved off her siren song and walked away down the street. If she’d leaned any further, she would have fallen into his arms. He wouldn’t mind having a beautiful woman fall for him, but he’d rather it happened the old-fashioned way.

And he’d rather it be someone like Laurie.

He could hear the woman calling out to someone else as he wandered away.

A man’s voice echoed back, “Hey, Rapunzel, let down your hair!”

Daniel’s gloom returned. Maybe that is the old-fashioned way.

A shadowy figure barreled out of the alley, ducking around the side of the building. Daniel dodged, his shoulder colliding with the brick wall. Walking downtown at night was always risky—too much temptation and too many drunks.

“Daniel?” Johnny Burke clutched a slack burlap bag, his chest heaving.

Daniel grunted, rubbing his shoulder. “I thought you were working tonight,”

Johnny grasped Daniel’s good arm and tugged him down the street. “I am—well, sort of. You live over the store, right? Do you mind if I hole up at your place for a bit?” Johnny fidgeted like a hunted rabbit.

Daniel tried to follow his gaze, but Johnny jerked his arm. “Don’t look back.” Johnny set off toward the drugstore.

“What’s going on?” Daniel hurried to catch up.

“I’ll tell you when we get there.” Johnny pressed the bag into Daniel’s hand. “Here. Take this, would you?”

Daniel thrust the empty bag under his coat, a sick feeling washing over him.

The pair reached the drugstore and Daniel followed his friend up the cement stairs—Johnny hungrily taking them two at a time. When they got inside, Johnny shoved the door closed and leaned against it, his chest heaving. Dark circles shadowed his eyes and creases lined his brow.

Daniel dropped the bag on the table. “So what is this? What’s going on?”

Johnny’s eyes shifted. “I was making a delivery.”

Daniel put the kettle on the stove, knowing his friend would open up in time.

Johnny closed the window blinds. “I saw that Brown fellow skulking around and it made me a little jumpy.”

Daniel leaned back against the kitchen counter. “I thought you were just running booze, not selling it.”

The color drained from Johnny’s face. “But I’m not—”

“You’re a rotten liar.”

Johnny paced the room. “I told Laurie to keep quiet. When I get my hands on that girl—”

Daniel raised his hand. “Don’t bother. I put it together when I saw her out by Crescent Beach that first night.”

“You—” Johnny’s stopped in his tracks. “You saw her at the beach?” He slumped into a chair. “Nothing goes without notice in this town.”

Daniel’s chest tightened. “I can understand you getting messed up in this business. You’ve always had some sort of scheme going. But why would you get Laurie involved in it?”

Johnny lifted his head, eyes narrowed. “I didn’t. She wasn’t supposed to know.” He balled his fist. “She always does this to me. She sticks her nose in where it doesn’t belong and then I’m stuck babysitting her.”

Reaching in to the cupboard, Daniel pulled out mugs and a canister of tea. “So now you’re selling it, too?”

Johnny sank lower in the chair. “I was just supposed to help with the boats. But one of our guys weaseled out, so I had to make the drop tonight, too.” He ran a hand through his hair. “It’s a good thing I spotted Brown, or I’d be sitting in county lockup.” He shook his head, the corner of his lip twitching into a faint smile. “Remember when we used to play cops and robbers in the tunnels under downtown? I never imagined I’d ever use them to actually duck the law.”

Daniel filled his cup, the scent of chamomile filling the kitchen. “What’s Laurie’s part in all this?”

His friend’s face grew dark. “She ain’t got a part. I told you that.”

Daniel frowned. “It doesn’t look that way to me. When I met her on the bluff that night, she said she was helping friends—presumably you and your buddies. And now she’s conveniently ‘seeing’ Samuel Brown. Did you put her up to that?”

Johnny jumped to his feet, his face turning red. “I told her to stay away from him.”

Daniel took a sip, letting the hot liquid roll around on his tongue. “Apparently she’s not listening.” He set the cup down on the table, the image of Agent Brown and Laurie together gnawing at his gut. “You don’t suppose she’s actually falling for him?”

“Nah, Laurie’s got more sense than that. She thinks she can throw him off our trail or something. It’s too risky, though. I don’t like it.”

“That makes two of us.”

Jazz music drifted up through Daniel’s open window, dancing across his thoughts. How easy it would be to fall back into that lifestyle.

His friend hunched forward over his teacup, clenched brow shadowing his eyes.

A prickle of suspicion drifted through Daniel’s heart. “Why are you doing this?”

Johnny started, as if Daniel’s voice had awakened him from a dream. “I need the money. I didn’t get your fancy education.”

“You’ve got a decent-paying job. What’s so desperate you’re risking your neck—and your sister’s?”

Johnny sneered and pushed his hand through his hair a second time, making it stand up in blond spikes. “You don’t know nothing.”

Daniel leaned forward in his chair. He’d known Johnny long enough to recognize his junkyard dog routine. Growl, bark—anything to scare you away from the truth. “So, educate me. What’s so important? Gambling debts?”

His friend pushed to his feet, jutting out his chin. “Just because I stayed here, doesn’t make me stupid, Daniel. I know better than that.”

The music outside kicked up a notch, as if keeping pace with their conversation. “Are you in some sort of trouble?” He lowered his voice. “Is it—is it Amelia?”

Johnny turned on him, his face clenched. “Don’t you ever say anything like that about Amelia.” He grabbed his jacket and strode to the door.

Daniel blocked his path. “No way. You can’t ask for my help and then rush out without a word. I have a right to know what’s going on.”

Johnny sidestepped and yanked at the knob, but Daniel threw his shoulder against the door.

Johnny turned on him, his fists clenched. “I don’t want to knock you down, Daniel. But I will. You know I can take you.”

Daniel pushed away the childhood memory. “I remember. But I also remember that after you were done blowing off your steam, we were better friends.” He clenched his jaw. “So let’s get it over with, so we can get to the truth. I can’t help you or Laurie until I know what’s really going on.”

“Get out of the way.” Johnny’s voice shook.

“I can understand you running booze. I can get that you’re selling it to that card shark next door. But letting your sister sacrifice herself to that loser Brown? Are you going to let her move into that brothel next? Is that what you want?”

Daniel didn’t even see the fist coming.

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The sun crept upward in the sky as Laurie finished cleaning and bandaging her father’s hand in silence. The morning oatmeal bubbled in the cook pot.

“I’ll stop at the glass shop on my way home from work.”

She filled their bowls and brought them to the table. “Don’t bother. I have a mirror in my room.” With her father’s current inclination for glass breaking, it seemed pointless.

“You never said anything about your trip to Lake Sutherland. How was it?”

She shrugged. “Beautiful. As always, I guess.”

Dad bobbed his head as he chewed, his face hanging low over his bowl. “We should go out there and do some fishing. You and me and Johnny.”

The cereal sank into a deep pocket of her stomach.

“No, wait . . . ” His eyes brightened. He raised his bandaged hand, the spoon dangling between his thumb and forefinger. “Let’s go up to Hurricane Ridge. Maybe we could stay a few days.”

“Sure. Why not?” The sarcasm tasted as bland as the oatmeal. She reached for more brown sugar.

He brought his hand down hard on the table making the silverware jump. “I’m trying here, Laurie. Don’t give me lip.”

Laurie grabbed her bowl and coffee cup and marched to the back door. Using her shoe, she pushed open the screen door and let it bang shut behind her. The fresh morning air lifted the edges of her hair and cooled her face. She settled into the wicker bench and propped her feet up against the porch railing, knocking flecks of white paint to the ground. She shoveled the cold oatmeal into her mouth where it sat on her tongue like a wad of glue.

The screen squeaked. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, counting her father’s slow shuffling steps. Opening her eyes, Laurie gazed across the lawn at the big maple tree.

He faced her, lowering himself to sit on the porch rail. The old wood creaked.

Acid rose in her throat. She didn’t need another mess this morning.

Her father grimaced and pushed back to his feet. “I should get out here and repair that, I suppose.”

Fire erupted in Laurie’s chest. “You won’t. You should, but you won’t.” The words hissed from her mouth, like steam escaping the teakettle. “Just like you won’t go to Hurricane Ridge or Lake Sutherland or anywhere else. You’ll go to work and you’ll come home and drink. It’s all you do. It’s all you ever do.” She pitched the bowl at the railing.

Laurie pushed herself to her feet. “I cleaned everything up. It’s what I always do.” Tears sprang to her eyes, but she threw up her fist to brush them away. “It’s what we always do.”

His shoulders slumped, hands hanging limp. “I’m sorry. I can do better. I’ll quit.” The long-desired words fell flat. “I’m done. No more drinking.” He repeated the words, as if saying them again would somehow make them true.

Laurie swallowed. “I have to get ready for work.” She pushed through the door, leaving behind her broken bowl. Let him clean up something for a change.