Life certainly was a fickle thing. Within a few short weeks, Betty had gone from being the happiest she’d ever been, to being the most despondent. She literally had no control over her emotions. None whatsoever. One minute she’d be happy, helping with the arrangements for Patsy’s wedding, and the next minute she’d be crying her eyes out, feeling nothing but sorrow.
That wasn’t like her. She’d never broken out in tears at the drop of a hat. It was Henry’s fault, that was what she’d tell herself when the tears started to flow, but then, she’d have to admit it was all her fault.
He’d disappeared out of her life once before, so why had she expected this time to be different? That was who he was. A lonely man who liked traveling from place to place, case to case. He’d told her so. Not the lonely part, she’d figured that out from his upbringing. Furthermore, what had she truly expected would happen when she broke every rule imaginable?
Truth was, she should be happy. James wasn’t nearly as awful as she’d expected. He wasn’t nearly as handsome as Henry, or as tall, or as muscular. He didn’t make her insides feel all warm and gooey, either, but he was sensible. He had a very nice home, not far away from her parents’ house, so she’d be able to still keep a close watch on Jane, even after she and James got married.
There was nothing mysterious about James, either. They’d gone out three times, and Betty already knew everything there was to know about him. He was also submissive, and after years of living with her father, she told herself she needed to be thankful for that.
She also needed to be thankful that James was as opposite to Henry as humanly possible.
The case Henry had been working on was completely closed. Lane and Patsy had written all about it in the newspaper, and Betty had questioned Patsy more intently, on exactly what happened.
She’d never used Henry’s name, partially because she didn’t want anyone to ever know how she’d so foolishly tried to be someone she was not.
She still didn’t blame him. She couldn’t. Especially when it came to that night in the basement. It had been so wonderful, so earth-shattering.
Tears hit again.
“What’s wrong?” Jane whispered.
“I’m just happy for Patsy,” Betty answered, keeping her voice low as they set out the crystal punch bowl and cups—making sure all the handles faced in the same direction. The wedding would take place in less than an hour, and everything had to be perfect. Per Mother’s instructions. Patsy didn’t care if there even was punch. She hadn’t cared about any of the arrangements. She was so happy, so ecstatic to be marrying Lane, that she’d have married him anywhere at any time.
Betty refused to compare herself to Patsy. There was no use.
“Perfect!” Mother exclaimed. “Absolutely perfect. I can’t believe how much we managed in such a short time.” Shaking her head, she insisted, “That won’t happen again. We’ll have more time when it comes to your weddings.”
Betty made no comment, in fact, she pretended that she hadn’t heard a word her mother had said.
Jane, on the other hand, heaved out a sigh and whispered, “I’ll elope before I go through all this.”
Betty shook her head at Jane’s comment, but then frowned. Jane just might do that.
“Come now,” Mother said. “Time to get in position. Betty, remember, you walk up to the altar first, and walk slow, dear.”
Betty nodded and stepped into place.
“You, too, Jane,” Mother said, shifting her gaze. “Nice and slow. It’s not a race.”
“I know,” Jane said. “I know. No one in their right mind would race to the altar.”
Betty knew Jane was referring to her, and not Patsy. Patsy was in love with Lane. She wasn’t in love with James. Perhaps she would be by the time her wedding rolled around.
She managed to keep her tears at bay until she was standing at the altar watching her sister marry Lane. His hair was dark brown, the same brown as his eyes, the very ones that looked at Patsy with such love and devotion that Betty couldn’t stop the tears from slipping out. She truly was happy for her sister.
Patsy looked so beautiful in her long white A-line dress. Her white netted veil covered the long ringlets that Betty had curled in Patsy’s hair earlier. Jane had then curled Betty’s hair, and Patsy had curled Jane’s.
A pang struck Betty, knowing that wouldn’t happen again. The three of them would no longer share the upstairs rooms at the house. Patsy had already moved most of her belongings to Lane’s apartment near the newspaper building.
Betty twisted, just enough to get a quick glance at Jane, who was also crying. Their eyes met briefly, and Betty knew Jane was thinking the same thing that she was. Things were going to be very different now.
Betty then glanced down at her own dress, a long gown of powder blue. Mother had suggested pink for both her and Jane’s dresses, but Patsy had said no pink, and that her sisters could choose whatever color they wanted. Betty had chosen blue of course. Jane had chosen green. Pale green.
Their dresses were identical, and pretty. Simple creations that hadn’t needed any adornments, other than single short strings of pearls around their necks. They each wore a pearl barrette, holding back their hair, including Patsy.
Betty then glanced toward her parents sitting in the front row. Mother had a matching barrette, but it was holding her long blond hair in a bun near the nape of her neck. Both she and Father looked very nice in their dress clothes.
Seeing the person seated directly behind her father, Betty’s breath stuck in her throat.
James.
He wasn’t the homeliest of men, just boring. Short and stocky, he had thin brown hair and round green eyes that blinked often. Almost too often.
He smiled at her.
Her heart once again grew so heavy; it felt as if it was in her stomach rather than behind her breastbone.
The ceremony ended. She kept her head up and forced a smile to form and remain on her lips as she followed the newly married couple down the aisle. Then, as people started to leave their seats, she and Jane scooted around Patsy and Lane.
“Bee’s knees, but Patsy looks happy, doesn’t she?” Jane said as they hurried down the steps so they could be ready to serve punch, coffee, and cake as the guests arrived in the gathering hall of the church.
“Yes, she does,” Betty agreed.
“I hate to admit it,” Jane said quietly, “but I’m jealous of her.”
“For marrying a man she loves?” Betty asked.
“No, for escaping. There will be no sneaking out of the window and climbing down the trellis for her.”
“No, there won’t be,” Betty agreed as she positioned herself behind the table holding the punch bowl and coffeepot.
“You won’t be doing that much longer, either,” Jane said.
Betty held her breath for a moment. She didn’t care if she ever went to another speakeasy, but Jane did. “I won’t be marrying James for months. Not until the end of the year.”
“Then why are you acting like it’s tomorrow?”
Betty began to fill cups using a glass dipper. “I’m not.”
“Horsefeathers,” Jane huffed as she began to cut slices of the cake. “You haven’t wanted to sneak out in days.”
“Because we’ve been so busy with the wedding,” Betty replied.
“Banana oil!” Jane hissed. “That’s only an excuse. When we have snuck out, you haven’t danced with anyone. I’ve watched you. You haven’t had any fun. Why?”
“Yes, I have. There just hasn’t been anyone I wanted to dance with.”
“You mean the Reuben you won the dance-off with.”
Betty nearly dropped a cup, and was saved from having to reply as people entered the room and immediately came to the table for punch and cake.
She had to fill the punch bowl several times, and made several trips into the kitchen to wash cups. As she returned with several clean and dry cups, her hands began to shake when she noticed Father and James approaching the punch table from another direction.
“Betty,” Father said in his booming voice as they arrived. “Now that Patsy’s wedding is over, it’s time to make your engagement to James official.”
Holding her breath, she focused on setting down the cups.
“The wedding will be a month from now,” Father continued. “I’ll make the announcement.”
Betty’s mouth had gone dry. “A month?”
“Oops, I’m sorry!”
Betty glanced up at Jane’s exclamation, and was alarmed to see cake and frosting stuck to the front of James’s suit coat.
She then turned to Jane, who pushed the line whenever she thought she could get away with it. Hence the reason she was the one to come up with them sneaking out at night.
Holding an empty plate, Jane held up a linen napkin. “I didn’t mean to bump into you.”
James blinked several times, looking at the cake on his jacket as if not sure what to do about it. “That’s all—all right,” he said.
Jane smiled and shrugged. “I’ll get you another piece.”
“That’s all right,” James said. “I don’t care for cake.”
Betty grabbed the napkin and wiped the frosting off his jacket. “Father, I don’t believe now is the time to make any announcements.”
Jane waved a hand slightly. “Father, Mother is looking for you. It must be time for Patsy and Lane to leave.”
Father flashed Jane a glare that said he’d speak with her later before he turned. James bobbed his head at both of them as he moved away, as well.
“I don’t like him,” Jane hissed.
“He’s not that bad and I can’t believe you threw cake on him,” Betty whispered in return.
“He’s about as exciting as an earthworm, and I didn’t throw it on him,” Jane said, with mirth sparkling in her eyes. “I just bumped into him and the plate accidently hit him in the chest.” She set the plate on the table. “Come on—we need to get upstairs with the bowls of rice so people can grab a handful to throw at the bride and groom.”
“I don’t know if I can trust you with a bowl of rice,” Betty said, picking up one of the large bowls that had been waiting on the floor under her table.
Jane laughed as she picked up the other bowl. “I won’t dump it over his head. That would be a waste of rice.”
“And that slice of cake wasn’t?”
Jane shook her head. “No. He’s a palooka, a goofus, if I ever saw one. You know it as well as I do. Life with him will be like watching grass grow.”
“Sometimes boring is good,” Betty said.
Jane laughed. “Be warned. I’m not going to let you do it. It’s just you and me now. But it’s still one for all and all for one.”
Betty’s stomach hiccupped. Jane was right; it was just the two of them. They did need to stick together. Now more than ever. But she had to stop Jane before she did something really foolish. “Don’t—”
“Let’s get a wiggle on,” Jane said, “or the bride and groom will beat us up the stairs.”
They carried the rice to the front doors of the church, and stood there as people filed out, grabbing a handful, and then lined both sides of the sidewalk so they could throw the rice on the bride and groom as they hurried outside and ran to Lane’s car.
The crowd dispersed shortly thereafter, and Betty readily took on the job of sweeping the rice off the steps and sidewalk.
She was kneeling down, holding the dustpan with one hand while sweeping rice into the pan with the broom in her other hand when an icy shiver rippled down her spine.
Straightening, she glanced around, and goose bumps rose up on her arms as she noticed a man sitting in a car across the street, staring at her. The sun prevented her from seeing his face, but something about him, the way he was looking at her, was scary. Frightening.
She spun around and ran up the steps.
Following LeRoy, Henry entered the hotel through the back door in the alley and took the service elevator up to a room on the fourth floor that his uncle had set up as a meeting place.
LeRoy had been at the dock when Henry, dressed as a navy sailor, had walked off the boat. LeRoy had ushered him into the backseat of a black sedan, which dropped them off at the hotel’s back door. Just as Uncle Nate had said would happen on the phone before Henry had left Hawaii.
Henry was given supplies, including clothes, money, a new badge, firearm, and the keys to a black Packard in the hotel parking lot and filled in on the details of Burrows being captured by agents Bob Mayer and Jacob Nielsen, as well as the news that no one had seen or heard from Curtis Elkin in weeks. Since the time Henry had been shanghaied.
“Elkin wasn’t on the ship with me,” Henry said, fingering his old badge, and the one that had belonged to Elkin. They’d supposedly washed up onshore near the docks. “He’s the mole. I’m sure of it.”
“I am, too.” LeRoy set his coffee cup down on the table in the hotel room that overlooked the bay. “But we need proof. Solid proof.” He picked up the file folder. “I’ve gone over this so many times, I can read it with my eyes closed. There’s nothing here. Nothing.”
The folder contained all the information the Bureau had on Elkin. His personal information as well as every case the agent had worked on.
LeRoy let the folder fall back onto the table with a smack. “We’ve never had this before. A mole, but it’s the only thing that explains the leaks.”
“Things Elkin knew.”
LeRoy nodded. “Yes, but others knew them, too.”
“The others are all accounted for,” Henry pointed out.
“Yes, but that doesn’t mean they weren’t the mole. Elkin could have been shanghaied just like you, or...” His gaze went out the window, to the ocean. “He could have met a worse fate.” Turning, he said, “So could you have.”
“I know,” Henry admitted, “which is why I believe it’s Elkin. And I believe it was Elkin that shanghaied me. He wanted us to believe it was Burrows that shanghaied both of us.” He fingered the badges lying on the table. “He wanted us to believe he was dead so he could take over once Burrows was arrested. He knew that was imminent.”
“He did,” LeRoy said. “And no one’s seen or heard from him since the day you went missing, too.”
“No other agents.” Henry laid his hand on the folder. “But I bet men in Burrows’s organization know exactly where he’s at.
“Elkin got scared when Rex Gaynor’s case was reopened,” Henry said. “I saw it on his face the day you mentioned the passenger manifesto from the train while briefing the rest of the team on this assignment. He thought the case was too old, that no one would care about Gaynor.”
LeRoy nodded. “I agree. That’s why I pulled you aside, and we came up with the plan of you pretending to be Gaynor.”
Henry’s mind was still whirling. “Or maybe it was exactly what he’d wanted. The case to be reopened so he could be here, fake his own death, and become a mob boss instead of an FBI agent. There’s definitely more money in it.” Henry shook his head, still not sure of Elkin’s motive. “The question is why? Something had to have happened to make him start leaking information, and something had to have happened to make him decide it was time to fully switch sides.”
LeRoy rubbed his gray handlebar mustache. “Sounds like you’re on the right track.”
“I need to talk to Lane Cox, find out if there were any major prohibition busts along the coast.” Henry’s mind instantly shot to Betty. Actually, she’d been there the whole time; it was the list she’d compiled and the night she’d given it to him that became front and center.
“Lane Cox,” LeRoy said. “He was with Bob and Jacob, helped them arrest Burrows that night.”
Henry nodded. He knew Lane wouldn’t have stopped until that happened, and getting the information on prohibition busts this past year would be faster than going through the bureaucracy of interagency sharing.
“He also got married yesterday.”
Shocked, Henry asked, “Lane did?”
“Yes, to one of William Dryer’s daughters.”
Henry’s spine stiffened. “Patsy?”
“Yes. You’ve met her?”
He nodded. “I’ve met all three of Dryer’s daughters.”
“Good, then you already know who they are.”
Henry had to swallow twice because of how dry his throat had gone. “Why?”
“Think about it, Henry. With you dead, Lane Cox is the only one who could identify Elkin and Elkin isn’t going to let that happen.”
Henry rubbed his forehead. “Damn.”
“Lane knows Elkin worked on that case seven years ago.”
Henry shook his head. “But he doesn’t know I was after Elkin.”
“No, but Elkin does, and he knows Lane helped Jacob and Bob bust Burrows. Lane’s wife was there, too.”
Images were flashing through Henry’s mind of all three girls sneaking out, walking through dark yards, down quiet roads. “They are all in danger,” he said. “The entire Dryer family.”
LeRoy nodded.
“What’s our plan?”
LeRoy stood and carried his coffee cup to where a silver pot was sitting atop a rolling tray. After refilling the cup, he took a drink of it while walking back to the table.
Henry’s nerves were pounding, his mind swirling, and waiting for his supervisor’s answer was torturing him.
“Your uncle wants me to pull you off this case.”
“No!” Henry leaped to his feet. “No.”
“I told him you’d say that.”
“We need men,” Henry said. “Need their house guarded.”
LeRoy shook his head. “On a hunch? I can’t do that. Not even your uncle can do that. Elkin could be dead. He could have been shanghaied like you. We need proof, Henry. Proof that he’s the mole, then I can have men here.”
Henry ran both hands through his hair. The images were still flashing through his head. “Then I’ll get it. Find him.” Henry wished he had more of a plan, but knew it would come. It had to.
“Well, you’re the man to catch him.” LeRoy slapped the envelope of cash he’d set on the table earlier. “If this isn’t enough, let me know. I’ve been authorized to give you anything you need, and there’s no limit. Time or money, but you’re on your own, until you can give me proof. I wish it wasn’t that way, but it is.”
Henry nodded, and heaved out a long sigh. He’d taken pride in being a top agent for years, in being the one people knew they could count on, but right now, it gutted him to know the stakes of this case were the highest he’d ever known.
LeRoy stood and stretched his arms over his head. “I’m not looking forward to the train ride back to Texas. I swear those seats get harder and the trip gets longer every time I take it. There’s no sleeping on those things.”
“Why don’t you spend the night, leave in the morning, so you get some sleep,” Henry suggested, even though his mind was elsewhere. On Betty.
“Can’t,” LeRoy said. “I have to leave town before Elkin knows I was here. Besides that, I promised the wife I’d be home by tomorrow night.” LeRoy put on his jacket.
“I’ll give you a ride,” Henry said.
“No. Can’t chance you being seen with me,” LeRoy said. “There’s a car waiting for me. This room’s paid as long as you need it—whether you decide to use it or not is up to you.” As they shook hands, LeRoy added, “Good luck. I know it’s not much, but I’m only a phone call away.”