by Janet Leigh
The windows repeated with guests I didn't recognize. Ace and Marla were in the last room. A petrified Ace was standing stock still against the door as Marla did a striptease for him. I smiled. Ace was taking one for the team.
The balcony ended, but the windows continued around the side of the house. A soft light glowed from the window of the next room. There was a decent ledge under each window. I could reach the ledge if I climbed over the railing and extended to the foothold. I didn't take time to talk myself out of the decision—I reached for the frame around the window and held on for my life.
I peeked through the glass panes of the window. A set of pink lacy curtains partially obscured my vision. Caiyan was in the room seated on a low settee, holding a glass of whiskey. His opposite arm relaxed across the back of the settee. He swirled the amber fluid and sipped as he gave a wry smile to the woman seated on the bed. The bed was against the wall with the window. The wall I was currently plastered against. Only a long pair of fishnet covered legs were visible from my viewpoint.
Was this a nightmare? Was Caiyan about to have a tryst with a prostitute to find Bonnie and Clyde?
I observed as he nonchalantly chatted to the woman across the room. I couldn't see her, but I could make out a female voice. I pressed my face against the glass straining to hear her muffled words. “They don't make men like you.” Her voice purred smooth as silk and sweet as honey.
“Darlin' they broke the mold when they made me,” Caiyan said in a perfect Texas accent. My inner voice gagged, and I gagged right along with her. This was a deal breaker. If he touched her, our engagement was off. Well, our almost engagement was off.
Caiyan was staying on his side of the room. Good. My foot slipped, and the window frame rattled. I froze in place. I couldn't move, and I cursed myself for not thinking things through. I didn't have the handrail to grip. There was no way to cross back to the balcony safely. If I did, I would fall and break a leg.
The woman stood and turned toward the window. She swiped back the curtains.
“Do you know her?” The woman asked Caiyan.
Caiyan came and stood beside her. He took another sip of his drink as he stared at me. “Yes, she's my fiancée.”
“Why is she outside on the ledge?”
“She's surprising me.” Caiyan reached up with one hand and released the latch on the window. The oversized glass panel swung open, and I tumbled into the room, grabbing a handful of the curtain as I went. I hit the floor with a rip of fabric, landing face to the sky, wrapped in the lace curtain. They stood over me looking down.
“Hello, Sunshine.”
“Hi,” I said giving him a finger wave.
“Stella, meet Jennifer. The love of my life.”
Stella had changed clothes. The tower of red hair was replaced with a flowing blond wig. She was wrapped in a slinky silk robe, obviously assuming Caiyan would be a customer.
“Yes, we met earlier,” Stella said. “I thought you were engaged to the other gentleman?”
“Uhm…” I was at a loss for words. I had two fiancés and no answers.
Caiyan raised an eyebrow at the ring on my finger.
“Ace,” I explained.
“You told me a lie,” she wagged her finger at me. “You said you had a message for Bonnie and Clyde.”
“I do, sort of.”
“Sure is getting crowded in here with people looking for Bonnie and Clyde,” Stella said.
I thought Caiyan would be mad I had traveled without orders, but his face didn’t show any sign of anger. He helped me to my feet and the curtain fell to the floor.
“Stella is a friend. She's aware I'm a bounty hunter.” He said the last words with emphasis. I nodded my head at the cover. “We met a few years ago when I was searching for Al Capone.”
“Yeah, too bad about that one. He was a good customer. I hated the fact he was sent to prison for tax evasion,” Stella snorted. “Caiyan and his Australian friend helped me set up in this fine establishment.”
“Jennifer and Ace are my associates,” Caiyan told Stella.
“You're a lucky woman, to be engaged to a bounty hunter. He's got plenty of clams, and he's not bad on the eyes either.”
Caiyan beamed at her and I rolled my eyes. He pulled me into a tight squeeze.
“If you two lovebirds will excuse me, I need to prepare for my show.” Stella clicked out of the room on a pair of black patent stilettos.
“Wha’ are ye doing here?” His voice was calm, but his Scottish accent returned, and that had me worried.
“I'm helping. You're not mad?”
“Mad? No. I was missing you.” He ran a hand over my hip, and his fingers were like flames. He brought his mouth to mine and kissed me hard.
This was a first. Caiyan was rarely happy when I traveled without his knowledge. Mostly because it interfered with whatever plan he had in place. He should be furious I traveled without a key. It was dangerous, and the old Caiyan would have taken me straight to Ace and ordered me home. Who was this man, and what did he do with my boyfriend?
“Did you find out about Bonnie and Clyde?” I asked, wiggling out of his hold.
“Aye. They're here. Along with Mitch. I haven't laid eyes on them yet, but Stella will take me to the Tea Garden and give word we want a game.”
“What should Ace and I do?”
Caiyan paused, then his eyes lit up. “It might be a good idea if the two of you remain engaged. Ace doesn't fit in well and it would take any suspicion off him. The two of you can be a rich couple looking to lose a wad of cash.”
“Ace managed to lift a wallet, but I don't think he has enough money to gamble. Where are we going to get a wad of cash?”
Caiyan pulled a wad of money from his jacket pocket.
“Where did you get that?”
“Stella. I told her I would split the reward money when I captured Bonnie and Clyde.”
“But you're not going to capture Bonnie and Clyde.”
“Dinnae fret aboot the details, Sunshine. Where is Ace?”
“He's in the next room with one of the girls.”
Caiyan broke out into a wide grin. “We should go and save him.”
We went in search of Ace. I heard a voice cry out, “Help! Help me!”
Caiyan opened the door to the room.
Ace stood in front of an oval dressing mirror modeling a frilly headpiece. “What do ya think? Too much lace?”
Caiyan grimaced and I jumped as the wardrobe beside me let out a shrill whine.
“Ace did you lock Marla in the wardrobe?” I asked him.
“Yes, she was getting frisky, so we decided to play hide and go seek. She's hiding.”
Chapter 18
I let Marla out of the wardrobe and Ace gave her two dollars for her trouble. My research revealed most laborers made around thirteen cents an hour. A prostitute would make a little more or less, depending on the circumstances. Marla seemed happy about the money.
We met up with Stella in the lobby and followed her across a gravel parking lot toward a brick-enclosed structure adjacent to the restaurant. As we crunched over to what Stella called “the garden,” I took in the surroundings in case we needed to make a quick escape. My inner voice patted me on the back. The subconscious activation of my secret agent training 101 brought a smile to my lips. I was starting to think like my fellow travelers. The garden had a steep, grassy slope off the back. Anyone who tried to exit there would have a tumble if they didn’t watch their footing, or if they were in a hurry. The other three sides of the brick wall let out to the restaurant and the dormitory from which we came. A substantial amount of thick pines, dense shrubbery, and tangled vines hugged the walls. No one was getting in or out of this garden unless they were invited or evicted.
Stella stopped at a black iron gate. A giant of a man leaned against the wall. One of his hands could easily wrap around my neck. I swallowed hard as she explained we were friends of hers looking for a game of cards. The giant nodded, and I mentall
y promised not to climb the beanstalk and invade his personal space.
We were escorted into the garden. This could have been any of the outdoor beer gardens Gertie and I frequented along the historic Katy Trail in Dallas. Lights were strung tent fashion over a small stage for performers. A string trio played a jazzy tune, and couples danced on a rectangular bricked area to the right of center stage. People were scattered about at tables chatting and listening to the band.
Eyes stared curiously at our entourage as we were seated at a nearby table. With prohibition in full force, no beer bottles littered the tables, no martinis were casually sipped by fashionably dressed women. The men removed their hats, and Stella left us to prepare for her performance with the promise her connection would be by shortly to escort us to the gambling hall.
A gangly teenage boy stopped at our table. “Tea, miss?” he offered.
“Yes, thanks.” My throat was parched—I could use a cold drink to wash down the fear of traveling without my key.
“You want the special?” he asked, winking his right eye at me.
“Sure.” My mind was busy scanning the crowd for our mark.
The boy poured and then did the same with the other members of our group. I searched faces for Bonnie and Clyde, my aunt Elma—although I wasn't sure I would recognize her—and Mitch. No one matched the photographs I stored in my mind.
I took a drink of the tea and almost spewed the liquid across the table. The familiar liquor burned my throat. The slip of honey, the tangy taste of the lemons combined with the stout home-brewed liquor. It was my family’s recipe for moonshine lemonade, except stronger and straight up. The owners of the Terrace had a sneaky way to distribute alcohol to the patrons obviously in on the ruse.
Caiyan had a generous swig and grinned at me. “Tastes like Bea’s moonshine. Seems the recipe has been watered down some through the years.”
“True, but it proves Elma is here somewhere.” I set the tea aside and turned toward Caiyan. “So, our M.O. is Ace and I are an engaged couple looking for a game of cards?”
“We need to get close to them,” Caiyan said. “Ace, after you get in the card game, drop a few hints about turning a bank job. You've heard of the famous Barrow gang and want to join in the fun.”
“Right on, my good man,” Ace said.
Caiyan scowled at him. “This isn’t the sixties, watch your language.”
“Righto.” Ace saluted.
Caiyan turned his attention to me. “If you get a chance, let them know Ace pulled a few bank robberies.”
Good grief. I glanced over at Ace. He was sipping his tea, pinky in the air, then dabbing the corner of his mouth with a linen napkin. No one was going to believe him capable of robbing banks.
Caiyan followed my gaze and grimaced. “There was a Union Bank job in Kansas City. The robbers were never caught and made out with a couple grand. An impressive amount for the time. Use it for a reference if they ask.”
A bank job where the robbers weren’t caught. It smelled like one of the heists Caiyan and Brodie were famous for sneaking in when they were on a mission. I shrugged off the feeling of déjà vu.
“What are you going to do?” I asked.
“I'm your muscle.”
I nodded. Caiyan would be my hired bodyguard. I could boss him around. A small smile threatened the corners of my mouth.
“Dinnae get all smug, Sunshine. 'Tis only pretending. Locating Mitch and making sure he doesnae get his hands on that key. That's real.”
Caiyan kept slipping back into his native tongue. He had scolded Ace only moments ago. My gut knew something wasn’t quite right with Caiyan. “You’d better pick an accent before we find Bonnie and Clyde,” I warned him.
“You don’t need to worry your pretty little head about me,” he said in perfect Texan.
“We also need to find Jennifer's aunt and figure out who the key belongs to,” Ace added, scanning the crowd.
“If we can’t ID the key, we bring it back to headquarters.” Caiyan agreed, then cut his eyes at me. “I'm good with accents, and locks. Introduce me as your safecracker and it will grab their attention.”
I nodded. Caiyan was good at many things.
“And Jen,” Caiyan placed his hand on mine, and desire trickled up my arm. “If you find your aunt, dinnae let her touch you. She's a reader like you, and she will know you have the gift.”
“Really?”
“Yes,” Ace said. “And a healer, a damn good one from what I recall.”
I took another sip of the tea. One thing about Mamma Bea's moonshine, it relaxed me. I felt the warmth spreading over my muscles and the tension ease.
“Easy on the tea, it has a kick that will send you to the ground,” a man said as he sat down at our table. “I hear you're looking for a card game.”
He was long limbed, slicked back hair, wore a three-piece suit, and reminded me of a character out of The Godfather. A bead of perspiration dotted his upper lip.
Caiyan glanced at Ace. Ace cleared his throat and his accent changed into a snooty, clipped dialect common among the British upper class. He pulled a bundle of neatly folded bills, secured in a gold money clip, from his suit pocket. “I fancy a game. My priest told me today was my lucky day.”
The man eyed our group. “I like to lay all my cards out on the table. You're not a dick, are ya?” He asked, sizing up Caiyan.
I bit my lower lip.
“No, my good man,” Ace said a chuckle to his words. “He’s not a detective. This is my hired gun. A man like myself can't be too careful with the law sniffing about.”
“All weapons have to be checked at the door.” The man seemed alarmed.
Caiyan pulled back his suit jacket revealing an empty coat.
I sat back and watched as Ace performed. “Of course, we always follow the house rules. I manufacture the most exquisite custom suits, and this is my best gal, Jennifer.”
“Ma'am.” The man tipped his hat at me, and I flashed a flirtatious smile.
“Frank Browning, I own this place.” He exchanged handshakes and motioned for us to follow him. As he led us into the restaurant, the smells of home-cooked food had my stomach growling loud enough for Ace to turn and look at me. Before we were allowed entry, Frank stopped at a coat check. A sign indicated hats, coats, and guns were to be checked before entering the establishment. The men handed over their hats to the dimpled hat check girl. Caiyan and Ace told the owner they didn’t have any guns. He looked at me for a brief second and then motioned us into the place.
We proceeded the length of a long corridor and down a short flight of stairs. In the basement of the restaurant, we stopped at a metal door. He gave three sharp raps on the door and it opened. A billow of cigarette smoke, music, laughter, and air conditioning leaked out the door as it was opened for our entry. A/C was rare in the thirties, and I was curious how Mr. Browning had accomplished cooling the room. Mr. Browning had muscle too. A barrel-chested, stocky man blocked the threshold. Mr. Browning stood off to one side as the man patted Ace and Caiyan down, checking for concealed weapons. He nodded at me. I huffed at the disregard, and Caiyan flashed an annoyed glance my way.
The bouncer motioned for us to enter, and we followed Frank through the speakeasy. Gaming tables offering roulette, blackjack, and poker spread throughout the room. Tuxedoed dealers stood at each table, and lights projecting from the ceiling above created illuminated layouts for craps and blackjack. I assumed this was for a fast turnover in case of a raid. A simple click of a switch and the tables became clear. I was curious about the slot machines lining one wall and the pool table opposite them. Those would be more difficult to hide.
Every inch of the room was covered in people, booze, and loot. Across the room, I spotted Bonnie Parker sitting on a man’s lap. She looked exactly like the photos I’d studied in the travel file at headquarters. She threw her head back in a hearty laugh then slid into the empty chair next to him. The man holding her attention had a slim build, dark hair, and a d
etermined jaw. Clyde Barrow was smaller than I pictured, but the aura of a man in charge didn't escape him. I caught Caiyan’s eye and he followed my slight head nod toward the famous couple.
Frank led us to the cashier, a hefty woman seated at a table. A large man sat next to her guarding the cashier's box, a Smith & Wesson positioned across his lap. Ace exchanged the money for poker chips. Frank nodded at the big guy and left us to play.
We planned to slowly make our way closer to Bonnie. Ace won a little at the roulette table and I made a big deal about it, drawing attention to us. Ace gave me a few coins and I made myself comfy at one of the slot machines. I ran my thumb over the embossed FB stamped on the face of the chip. The machine didn't payout, and I gave up after a few tries. Caiyan stood next to me scanning the room.
“I don't see Mitch or Elma,” he said. “Bonnie is heading to the ladies’ room. Maybe you should go too.”
I slipped off the stool and followed her into a small bathroom with two stalls and a dressing table with an oval mirror. A single sink hung from the wall. I went into a stall and borrowed the facility. The toilet next to me flushed and water began running in the sink. I flushed the toilet and exited the stall, meeting the famous woman washing her hands in the sink.
“Howdy,” I said.
“Hi there,” she replied as she pulled downward on the length of towels extending from a machine on the wall and wiped her hands. A small smile crept at the corner of her mouth. “I saw you enter the casino with the sharp-dressed fella.”
“He's my guy,” I said. Before I could explain about Ace, the door burst open and a girl wearing a gingham scarf over her hair entered the bathroom. She rushed into one of the stalls, giving Bonnie a nod on the way.
“Whew! I had to haul three more crates into the joint. These people are drinking me dry,” she said from behind the closed stall door.
Bonnie laughed. “You better get used to it if you’re going to come with us. We always go where there's plenty of hooch.”
