by Janet Leigh
I listened to Elma and Bonnie speak about movies they called the talkies, as the effects of time travel swirled with the amount of whiskey I’d consumed. If only I could figure out why Mitch wanted Elma. If he didn't want her key, what did he want?
“Elma, how are things with you and Mitch?” I was curious to the extent of the relationship.
Elma smiled. “He's a fine kisser, but I know he'd like to uhm…advance our relationship.”
I bet he did, the rat bastard. My inner voice reminded me to focus.
“How did the two of you meet?” I asked Elma, keeping my tone imbibed with curiosity.
“My brother was arrested for smuggling hooch, and I took it over. It's a family business. I hauled a load of moonshine to Fort Worth, and my old rust bucket of a truck broke down. Mitch helped me fix my truck and offered to help me unload several crates at Red's Saloon.”
She sighed. It was the sigh of a girl in love. Somewhere along her mission to recover her father’s key, she had fallen for Mitch.
“We’ve been sweet on each other for about four months. I can only come in town once a month to drop off the hooch, and he has to look for work. Poor guy didn't have a penny to his name. His family's farm was taken by the bank.”
Mitch knew she would be sympathetic to the penniless farmer.
Elma took a long drink from her glass and continued. “I tried to get him to come work on my family’s farm, but he refused. Later, he told me he was searching for Clyde Barrow. He wanted to join their gang. I knew y'all came to Top O'Hill.” She bobbed her head at Bonnie. “So, I brought him along with me, and now here we are.”
Elma was twisting a strand of her hair around her index finger. I wondered if she shared my same nervous habit. It was my tell when I lied. The story she told rang true, but my instincts told me there was much more to the story. A version that included Elma hunting Clyde Barrow for the key he stole from her father. I just wondered what story Mitch was spinning. Whatever he had told her, it was a tall tale for sure.
“Where are your people from?” I presented the question to both.
“Mine are from Cement City in Dallas, and Clyde's live in the worst part of Dallas. There's no way in hell I'm going back there. Can't anyhow on accounta the laws are always searching for us there. The coppers keep taking my mama down to the big house to question her about where Clyde and I are hidin' out. She ain’t told them nothin'.”
Bonnie seemed remorseful about her family's involvement in the couple's troubles. “When we want to see our folks, we drive by Clyde's pa's service station and throw out a coke bottle with a message inside as to our meeting place.” She took a long drag on the cigarette and blew out three perfect smoke rings.
“It's the way it is. Clyde and me's time is limited. As long as we go down together, that's all I want.”
“Bonnie, I'm sure you and Clyde can go somewhere far away and live where no laws can get to you,” Elma said to her.
“Maybe,” she said.
“What about you, Elma, where are you from?” I turned the conversation to Elma.
“I'm from east of here,” Elma said. “My pa's injured…” she paused, “working the farm, and my ma's laid up from the birth of my little brother. I have to take care of all the younguns until ma gets back on her feet. Since my good-for-nothin’ brother got hisself jailed, I've been hauling hooch.”
“How'd you meet Clyde?” Elma asked Bonnie, diverting the conversation away from herself.
Bonnie smiled and told us the story of how she met Clyde while working at a diner. “When I met Clyde, I knew he was the one for me. He was a friend of a friend. Oh, I’d seen him around, but one day he came in the diner, ordered a piece of peach pie, and told me I was sweeter than all the pies in the diner. The rest was history. We're gonna get hitched. After I get a divorce from that weasel of a man I married.”
My mind drifted to my feelings for Caiyan. Was he the one? Bonnie stubbed out her cigarette in a nearby ashtray. “Elma, if Mitch is the one, you don't need a piece of paper to show your love. What about you, Jennifer? Is that how you felt about your guy?”
“What?” I asked, remembering the first time I met Caiyan. Shaking the cobwebs, I deduced she was asking about Ace. I couldn't think of a good meet-cute for Ace and me. A ruckus started outside, and I was saved from making up another lie.
Bonnie cracked open the door, then jerked it open and stepped outside.
“What in tarnation?” she shouted out into the night.
Elma and I gathered around the threshold.
Caiyan and Mitch were rolling around on the ground throwing fists at each other.
“They had words,” Clyde said. A wide grin spread across his face as he watched the two men fight.
I huffed. Men. They liked a good scuffle.
“Stop it!” I tried to grab Caiyan, but they rolled and I got a handful of Mitch's hair. He yelped, and Caiyan gave him a jab in the kidney.
“You bitch!” Mitch yelled and threw me to the ground.
Clyde laughed, aimed his pistol in the air and shot off a round. “Enough.” Both men separated.
Mitch stood, wiping blood oozing from his lip. Caiyan's cheek puffed under his right eye.
“Ace is not going to be happy about this,” I said like an angry schoolteacher. I took Caiyan into the girls’ cottage and the others followed Elma as she led Mitch to the men's cottage. I wet a cold cloth and held it to his cheek. He frowned at me.
“Mitch is egging Clyde to rob the Fort Worth bank.”
“Is that a problem?” I arched an eyebrow at him. “I thought you were egging him on earlier with the whole I can crack safes thing.”
“Yes, it’s a problem. I wanted to go in at night. Mitch is rooting for a day job. He claims we can steal valuables from patrons. They never hit that bank. It will change things,” Caiyan said, allowing me to hold the cold compress to his cheek.
“Especially if any of you kills innocent bystanders,” I said.
“Mitch also agreed to soup up the engine in the V-8. When they have the wreck Saturday night it could be fatal.”
“And kill Elma, if she's with them,” I added. “Do you think Mitch's plan is to kill Bonnie and Clyde before they die in the ambush next year?”
“I don't know. If Elma dies in the car crash, Mitch didn't directly kill her, so it wouldn't affect him as if he had.”
“I don't think Mitch wants to kill Elma. When he touched me, I felt an attraction to her.”
Caiyan brought his hand up and encircled my wrist. “When did he touch you?”
Uh oh, I didn't tell Caiyan about my confrontation with Mitch, or about him pushing me down the hill.
“I met him in the horse barn at the Terrace.”
Caiyan's grip tightened on my wrist. “Why didn't you come get me? It's dangerous to be alone with him, or didn't you learn that from almost freezing to death at the spa?”
I jerked my arm free from Caiyan's grasp, moving to the bathroom sink to wet the rag again. Caiyan came up behind me and wrapped his arms around me. He kissed my neck and his warm lips made me tremble.
“I jest want ye to be careful.”
“You should stop. We don't need to get caught together,” I warned.
“I'm having a hard time keeping my hands off yer body.”
I could feel another hard thing pressing against my backside.
“I'm concerned you may be right about robbing the bank,” I said, putting some space between us. “The future might change. Bonnie and Clyde's destiny might change.”
“Aye, I’ll try to convince Clyde to break into the bank after it closes. The vault will be full of money from people depositing their week’s wages and I can open the safe without any problems.”
And avoid any killing. I was beat, and I couldn’t contain the yawn I tried to stifle.
“It's the wee hour, you need to sleep. We are going to case the bank this afternoon and while we do, you need to bail Ace out of jail.” He took folded money from his pa
nts pocket and pressed it into my hand. “Have Ace keep a distance, in case we need him.”
I brushed my lips across his and my inner voice said a prayer to keep everyone safe.
The door handle rattled and Caiyan took a step back as Bonnie and Elma came into the room.
“You need to go back to the men’s room, cowboy,” Bonnie said.
“Play nice with the other boys, or I'll report you to the boss,” I told Caiyan. He raised an eyebrow at me as he left the room.
“I don't know how you keep your hands off that one,” Bonnie said, admiring Caiyan's behind as he left the room. “He's the cat's pajamas.”
Elma giggled, and I couldn't help but agree. Caiyan oozed sex appeal, even when he was pretending to be the hired help.
“He's pretty on the eyes, but my Ace has a lot going on downstairs, if you know what I mean.” I pointed to my crotch and they laughed hysterically, urging me to tell them more about Ace's wisdom in the bedroom.
We gossiped, drank Elma's moonshine, and all three of us fell asleep in the bed. I woke to a slice of sunlight piercing through a gap in the curtains and a stabbing hot poker behind my eyeballs. Why didn't Clyde put newspaper on the windows in this cottage? The empty bed matched my stomach and I knew if I didn't get some food, the dry heaves would be next. There wasn't a clock in the room. I rolled out of bed and cursed myself for indulging in the moonshine. Peeking out the window, Elma's truck and Caiyan's Ford were still parked in front of our building. I couldn't tell if Clyde's car was in the garage. The sun was high in the sky. Staying up until the wee hours of the morning drinking hooch combined with the time travel made me groggy.
I used the bathroom, commandeered the poor excuse for a shower and made myself as fresh as possible wearing the same clothes as last night. As I came out of the bathroom, Bonnie entered carrying covered dishes and a loaf of bread.
“The owner was very accommodating when I slapped a few clams his direction. Made his wife stop making his lunch and fix us up some grub.”
“Lunch?”
“You missed breakfast, but Caiyan told us you usually sleep in.” She placed the covered dish on the table.
“Did he, now?”
“It's eleven o'clock, sleepyhead,” Elma said coming into the cottage and removing the lid from the covered dish. “Yum, meatloaf.”
A wave of nausea hit me hard. I swallowed, “I need to go to the jail and bail out Ace.”
Bonnie looked me up and down. “Let's eat first, you need some food to soak up all the booze, then Mitch will drive us to town.”
“Mitch? Where's Clyde and Caiyan?” I asked.
“Clyde and your trigger man took the other car and went to case the bank. He told us to take Mitch and go fetch your fella.”
Mitch wasn't supposed to go with me to pick up Ace. Caiyan's words about playing the hand you're dealt came to mind. I was dealt a bad hand today. I'd have to bluff.
They made meatloaf sandwiches. My stomach rumbled as I took the first bite and sighed. Even my mother didn't make a meatloaf this delicious. I savored the meal while I planned the hand I would play against the brigand.
Chapter 21
We readied ourselves to go bail out Ace. Bonnie gave the orders. She and Elma would stay in the car, and Mitch and I would go in and bail Ace out of jail.
I tried to argue I didn’t need Mitch, but she assured me having a man would make it easier. Using Mitch and man in the same sentence had me gritting my teeth as we exited the cottage.
Mitch’s lower half was sticking out from under Caiyan’s Ford.
“What’s he doing?” I asked.
“He’s making the V-8 faster,” Bonnie said. “Mitch did our car earlier, something about removing a governor. Is that a car part?”
Elma huffed. “I wouldn’t mind if someone removed that old Ma Ferguson from the governor’s chair. My pa says she’s as political as peach cobbler.”
“She gave me a pardon when I was put in the jailhouse,” Bonnie told Elma.
Elma and Bonnie could squabble about the governor. My main concern was on Mitch’s automotive tinkering. Caiyan was worried about Mitch souping up the car. It would be faster, more deadly.
“Don’t you think the law will be looking for us here?” I asked.
“Clyde sent them on a wild goose chase. He got word to his brother in Oklahoma to say he was Clyde at a gas station in Oklahoma City. That’ll throw ’em coppers off our scent.”
Mitch scooted out from under the car. “Good as she gets.”
“We need to go bail Jennifer’s guy outta the clink,” Elma told Mitch.
Mitch frowned, but opened the car door for Elma. She slid into the passenger seat, and Bonnie and I climbed into the back seat.
Mitch drove us into Fort Worth to the Tarrant County Jail. He parked in front of a grocery store across the street from the courthouse. Bonnie moved to the driver’s seat in case she needed to make a quick getaway. Elma went into the store to buy supplies for our gang of thieves, while Mitch and I crossed the street, walked a block, and took the steps up to the door of the county jail to find Ace.
Bonnie insisted I needed a man to bail Ace out of jail. I hated this time. A woman couldn’t do anything but keep house and have babies. Times were changing, but a woman still needed a man to open a bank account or sign papers.
Mitch held the door open for me, and I entered the Victorian style jailhouse. The hallways were sparse on a Friday afternoon. We took the stairs to the third floor.
“I can’t believe I’m going to post bail for that sack of shit,” Mitch said.
“I can’t believe I’m helping an evil brigand attempt to steal a key.”
“I don’t think of myself as evil. In fact, I would deem me a crusader for the good of the world.”
“Saving the world one key at a time?” I raised an eyebrow at him.
He gave me a sideways glance. “Maybe so. Besides, I’m not attempting to steal anything. I will take the key. And you have not kept your promise to keep the Scot under wraps. He’s already ousted me from scouting the bank. I’m playing chauffeur for Christ's sake.”
“I’ll handle Caiyan, as long as you leave Elma alone, key intact.” The words rolled off my tongue as smooth as Mamma Bea’s moonshine. A mouthful of lies, and I was getting good at telling them.
“If he interferes, Elma’s key is mine, and I can’t promise her safety.”
“I doubt you will put her in harm's way; I know you have feelings for her.”
He stopped and stared at me. “Elma is a mark, nothing more.”
“A mark? I thought you were only after the key Bonnie wears?”
His mouth drew up into a half smile. “I do want the key around Bonnie’s neck. Whether or not I can get it without cutting off her pretty little head remains to be seen. I have bigger plans for Elma.”
I grabbed his arm. “You promised you wouldn’t take her key.”
“I’m not taking her key. What I have in mind is more permanent than removing her key.”
He jerked his arm free and opened the door to the jail.
The jailer was at his desk, head down, applying a pencil to paper. He glanced up as we closed in on his space, sizing us up as possible criminals. He eyed Mitch and decided he was too tall and too buff to be Clyde Barrow. Then he gave me the once over and knew I wasn’t Bonnie Parker.
“We’re here to post bail for my fiancé. The man you brought in last night from the raid.”
He flipped open a book. “We brought in several fellas. Which one you lookin’ fer?”
“About my height, longer hair, nice clothes,” Mitch said.
“He wears a diamond ring on his right hand,” I added.
“Oh, yeah, he was released earlier. His friend bailed him out.”
“What friend?” I asked.
“Tall, uhm…gal. I think she sings at the Terrace. Bailed out all the arrests from last night.” Mitch and I both looked at each other.
We thanked the man and left.
/> At least I knew Ace was safe with Stella, probably back at the Terrace.
Considering the situation, I decided leaving him there was a good idea. The law was most likely staking out the place. I needed to keep Bonnie far away from the law.
#
The sun was low in the sky as we returned from our trip to town. Although we didn’t bail Ace out of jail, we managed to fill the Ford with gas for our impending bank robbery, purchase groceries, and confiscate three more bottles of Mamma Bea's moonshine from Elma’s truck. I considered this a productive day considering my company included a wanted felon and a bootlegger.
“Who makes the moonshine?” I asked Elma. In my time I knew Mamma Bea claimed to get the recipe from her brother-in-law Ruppert.
She balanced a crate of groceries on her hip as we walked to the cottage. “My grandfather passed along the recipe, but it's been in my family long before him. Not sure how far back it goes. My pa makes sure all us kids know how to brew it. Ruppert’s the best at it. He’s got a good touch when it comes to makin’ shine.”
I remembered Mamma Bea teaching me how to make the moonshine lemonade when I was a teenager. The fancy copper still was hidden in a secret room under the barn. Mamma Bea used to say my uncle Ruppert was dumb as a bag of rocks, but he sure could make a fine still.
“Mitch says it's the best hooch he’s ever tasted. Isn’t that right?” Elma asked Mitch.
“Sure is, sweetheart,” Mitch cooed, setting a crate down on the table and proceeding to stretch his smarmy self across the sofa.
I glanced at her. Did she think Mitch was from this time? Was that his lie? Elma had to know he was a traveler. He wasn’t wearing a key, but Elma was a reader and she would have felt the connection. What kind of game was Mitch playing with my aunt? Elma went over to the sofa, leaned down, and stole a kiss from Mitch. She smiled as she walked back to the kitchenette to finish unloading the groceries. Maybe I should be asking what kind of game was my aunt playing with Mitch?
My inner voice gave me a poke check. Bonnie was standing in front of me, hands on hips. She had asked me a question and was staring at me waiting for an answer. Elma stood curious, a jar of canned peaches in her hand, looking on from the kitchenette. She began putting the groceries away in a cupboard.
