By Starlight

by Dorothy Garlock

  Still naked, Jeffers glanced down to see that thinking about Maddy had aroused him. He only wished that she were the one lying in his bed, but since she wasn’t…

  With a growing anger, Jeffers yanked the sheet off of Deb’s naked body, then placed his hand on her breast and gave it a hard squeeze.

  “Ouch!” she shouted. “What the hell do you think you’re doin’?”

  “Takin’ what’s rightfully mine,” he snarled.

  Just like he always did.

  Slowly and as carefully as he could, Sumner put a finger to each side of his nose and gave it a little push. Stars of pain immediately flashed across his vision and he gave a yelp as his eyes started to water. Long seconds passed, but still the pain didn’t go away. Looking at himself in the faint light of his mother’s bathroom, he felt every bit as pathetic as he looked.

  “What a goddamn mess…,” he mumbled to himself.

  His face looked as if it had been in a car wreck. The swelling on his nose was huge, like a balloon. It was too early to tell how crooked it was going to be, but there was no denying that it was off-center; that was why he was trying to push it back. Purple, brown, and black bruising underlined both of his eyes; it reminded him of the outrageous makeup of a clown in the traveling circus he’d seen as a child.

  And it was all that bastard Rucker’s fault…

  A light knocking on the bathroom door startled Sumner so badly he jumped. “Are you about done in there?” his mother asked.

  “Not yet,” he said.

  “It’s just that I have to get ready so that I can—”

  “Goddamn it! I said I ain’t done yet!” he exploded, spit bursting from his mouth to splatter the mirror.

  After a moment’s silence, he finally heard his mother walk away without any further protest. Sumner breathed a sigh of relief.

  From the moment his father abandoned him and his mother, leaving one winter’s night when Sumner was seven, he’d lived with the sense that he was nothing but a disappointment. What had happened last night when he’d run after Jack Rucker had only made that feeling worse.

  Waking up alone in the darkened alley and staggering back to the speakeasy had been painful and humiliating, but it was nothing compared to the embarrassment Sumner had suffered when Jeffers found out what’d happened. All Sumner had ever wanted was to please the man, to make him see that he could be his partner, that he could be trusted. Only hours earlier, when Jeffers had explained that he’d be gone for the evening and that Sumner was in charge, his chest had swelled with pride; unfortunately, that meant he’d have that much further to fall. Now he’d be lucky to be trusted with a pack of matches for fear he might accidentally burn the place to the ground.

  Struggling to hold back tears, Sumner turned on the faucet and began splashing cold water onto his face; even that made his nose ache. His pride was also bruised. He knew that for the next couple of weeks, everywhere he went, people would snicker behind his back, would joke about what had happened; after all, it was written right there on his face.

  There was only one thing that made Sumner feel better, a thought he held close in his heart, an unyielding fire he took care to stoke.

  Revenge!

  No matter how long it took, no matter how it ended up being done, he would make Jack Rucker pay for what he’d done. If it meant taking the man’s life, spilling his blood, then that was what he’d do. He remembered what Clayton had said when they’d entered the speakeasy, that everyone in town knew who Rucker was, but that didn’t deter him in the slightest; if anything, it made his fury burn even hotter. Maybe then, people around town would start to look at him the same way they did Jeffers: with fear and respect. Maybe he could be someone important, could make some serious money and finally escape from his mother’s house.

  He’d prove himself by taking care of Jack Rucker. He’d show Jeffers, his mother, the whole town, even himself, that he wasn’t weak, he wasn’t a child. Before he was finished, that bastard would beg for forgiveness.

  “You’re gonna pay for what you done, you son of a bitch…”

  Chapter Twelve

  MADDY LEANED BACK against the mercantile’s long counter, absently watching the summer rain as it fell in torrents outside the windows. The air was still, humid, and heavy; she’d propped the door open to provide some relief from the heat, listening to the steady patter of raindrops hitting the sidewalk, the awning of the barbershop across the street, and the few cars that drove past. It had been a particularly slow morning and early afternoon of business; weather like this meant there’d be few customers, leaving her plenty of time to get lost in her own troubled thoughts.

  “I still can’t believe it…,” she mumbled to herself.

  Lying in her bed, Maddy had stared up at the ceiling, replaying what had happened over and over in her mind; sleep had been a long time coming, and fitful when it finally had. She’d awakened with a start just as the sun broke the horizon, panic gripping her chest, unable to think about anything other than Jack.

  Questions to which she had no answers kept asking themselves in her head…

  Why had Jack come back?

  Where had he been for the last seven years?

  How did he know about the speakeasy? Had he come because he’d known I would be there?

  Maddy shook her head and sighed; there was a part of her that was thankful for the rain. While the downpour meant that there wouldn’t be much money coming into the cash register, making the task of keeping the business afloat that much harder, it also meant that she would be undisturbed. She was certain that word of what had happened at the speakeasy had spread through town like wildfire. Wagging tongues would spread news of Jack’s return far and wide. She’d expected to be visited by gawkers, women who came with sympathy and compassion but hoped to leave with some nugget with which to telephone their friends, some news they could brandish about as if it were a jewel on a finger. To avoid such a circus, Maddy had considered staying home, lying in bed with her head under the covers, but she knew that her problems would only get worse. Thankfully, the downpour had lent her a hand.

  But the rain wouldn’t last forever.

  The sudden sound of pounding footsteps out on the sidewalk startled her. Instantly her mind leaped to all sorts of wild conclusions; Jack was coming to confront her, or Jeffers would barge in to curse her for abandoning the speakeasy. Even as a figure raced past the windows with a newspaper spread over her head in a futile attempt to keep from getting wet, Maddy still wasn’t certain who it was. It wasn’t until her new visitor was inside the store, the soaked paper tossed to the floor and an angry face turned to glare at her, that she knew.

  “Why didn’t you tell me what happened?” Helen demanded.

  That morning, once she’d finally convinced herself to get out of bed, Maddy had said little, mumbling her way through breakfast and her duties in caring for her father before hurrying off to the mercantile. Her head had been a mess. The thought of telling anyone about Jack’s return had seemed impossible, especially her father, who knew nothing about her business with Jeffers Grimm and who’d made his distaste for Jack abundantly clear. But now, her sister standing before her with her hands on her hips, Maddy couldn’t help but feel a little guilty.

  “Why didn’t you say something?”

  “I just couldn’t,” Maddy answered.

  “Not even to me? Your own sister?!”

  “I…I was just so surprised to see him that…well…I didn’t want anyone else to know until I’d figured it out…,” Maddy struggled to explain.

  “Well, it’s too late for that!”

  “What do you mean?”

  “It’s already all over town!” Helen shouted, throwing up her hands, gesturing out into the rain-soaked afternoon. “Everywhere I’ve been today, it’s the only thing anyone’s talking about!”

  “Oh, no,” Maddy groaned.

  “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me first!”

  “What are they saying?” Maddy sa
id, knowing that her worst fears had started to come true.

  “That Jack showed up at the speakeasy with Clayton Newmar, which is kind of strange,” her sister explained, “and that no one could believe what they were seeing. I heard Bill Tottlebunner say that no one in the whole room made a sound when Jack approached the bar and you saw each other for the first time in years.”

  “They didn’t,” Maddy agreed.

  “Marjorie Kessler said that she nearly fainted when you came out from behind the bar, walked up to Jack, and kissed him on the lips!”

  “What?!” Maddy exploded, unable to believe what Helen had said. “I didn’t do that! I didn’t kiss him! I swear I didn’t!”

  “That’s not what Marjorie was telling all the women standing in line at the bakery,” Helen said, shrugging. “The way she told it, it was like something out of a Hollywood picture, although I doubt a frumpy old thing like her could be considered much of an expert,” she added, insinuating that because of the magazine she’d read cover-to-cover countless times she was.

  Maddy felt physically ill. It was even worse than she’d feared. One exaggerated story mixed with the next and then the one after until it had been changed beyond recognition. In this way, lies became the truth. By nightfall, she expected half of the town to swear that they saw Jack get down on one knee and ask for her hand in marriage.

  “I didn’t kiss him,” she insisted.

  “So I suppose the part where you slapped him didn’t happen, either…”

  Maddy looked away quickly, shame reddening her cheeks. She shouldn’t have been surprised to discover that that part of the story was being spread around town.

  Helen saw her reaction and immediately understood. “You actually did it, didn’t you?” she pounced, a grin of disbelief slowly spreading across her face. “You slapped him!”

  “I didn’t mean to!” Maddy said. “Or maybe I did…I don’t know…”

  “I can’t believe it!” Helen gushed. “But why? What did he do?”

  Instead of answering, Maddy sighed deeply, ran a hand through her red hair, and went to the window, not knowing how she could possibly explain. As if to further darken the clouds hanging over her life, the afternoon sky was split by a bolt of lightning, followed by a deep rumble of thunder that shook the windows.

  “He said my name,” she answered simply.

  To her surprise, Helen didn’t immediately press her for more details.

  “I’ve spent the last seven years hating Jack for what he did,” Maddy continued, admitting something she’d kept locked in her heart. “I’ve tried as hard as I could to go on with my life, but seeing him again, hearing his voice, it brought all of the anger and hurt back and I lashed out. It happened so fast I’m sure I looked as shocked by what I’d done as Jack did.”

  “What did he say after you hit him?”

  “I didn’t stay to listen,” Maddy answered. “After it happened, I ran away as fast as I could. I was angry, embarrassed, frightened, all at the same time. I just couldn’t face him.

  “But he followed. I could hear him running somewhere behind me. He shouted my name a couple of times, but I didn’t respond. I just kept going. Eventually, he must’ve given up.”

  For a time, neither of them spoke. Telling Helen what had happened made Maddy feel a bit better, but she still had no idea what she should do next.

  “Don’t you want to know why?” her sister finally asked.

  “Why what?”

  “Why he came back? Why he was at the speakeasy? Why he chased after you?” Helen said. “If I was you, after all you shared, no matter how many years had passed or how angry I was at him for how he left, I wouldn’t be able to sleep until I’d looked him in the eyes and asked every question I could think of. I’d demand to know the truth!”

  Maddy looked at Helen with no small measure of surprise. Usually, her favorite way of communicating was by arguing mixed with long periods of silence, by complaining about how unfairly she was being treated, whining about how she never got to do anything fun, or wishing that she was all grown-up so she could move far away and live her life the way she wanted. Suddenly, right before Maddy’s eyes, Helen seemed more mature than her years; she wondered if it might not be a glimpse of the woman she’d someday become.

  “I do want to know some of those things,” Maddy admitted.

  “Then ask him.”

  “I…I don’t know if I could…”

  “Yes, you can!” Helen insisted.

  “I’d be too ashamed. Besides, I don’t know where he is. He’s probably at his father’s place, but—”

  “He’s staying at the Belvedere,” her sister said matter-of-factly.

  Maddy could only stare in answer.

  “What?” Helen asked incredulously. “Did you really think that everyone’s only talking about one of you? From what I heard, Virginia Benoit’s keeping the switchboard operator plenty busy.”

  Just like that, Maddy knew that if she protested any more, she’d only be making excuses for herself. Helen was right; she should confront Jack and get all of the answers she’d long deserved. All she had to do was walk over to the hotel, find out what room he was in, and knock on the door…

  Still, she wavered.

  “I don’t know…if I can…,” she said, tears welling in her eyes.

  Helen walked over and gently took her hand. “Even if he doesn’t give you the answers you want, heck, even if he refuses to answer, at least you’ll have tried. That has to be better than spending years wondering why. Who knows? Maybe he has a reason for what he did, although I can’t think of what it could be.” She smiled. “Either way, no matter what happens, you can finally get on with your life.”

  With her heart nearly bursting at the seams with nervousness and excitement, Maddy made her decision; she’d go to Jack. She wouldn’t wallow in her own misery, or act like nothing had happened, or even wait for him to come to her. She’d take control of her own life and learn the truth.

  It was the only way.

  “Go,” Helen said. “I can handle the store.”

  Maddy undid her apron, gave her sister a kiss on the cheek, and hurried off into the rain.

  “If he gets out of line,” Helen shouted after her, “just give him another slap!”

  Jack leaned against the railing of the Belvedere’s porch and watched the rain slowly diminish, listening to the steady pitter-patter of drops striking the Packard and puddle on the empty street. The air was full of the fresh scent of the storm, billowing and blowing from the west; looking in that direction, he saw the storm begin to break and the clouds lighten, showing patches of blue.

  But his mind was still a raging tempest, full of thoughts that threatened to blow down all he’d painstakingly built.

  Unlike every other time he had gone undercover for the Bureau of Prohibition, lying through his teeth and putting his life in danger, all for the greater good, this time he had absolutely no idea what to do next. His vaunted luck had proven to be a double-edged sword. On the one hand, it had brought him right to what he’d been sent to Colton to find: the illegal liquor. On the other hand, he’d discovered that the woman he’d once loved was somehow involved. Ever since he’d left Clayton in the dark alley, Jack had been filled with indecision. He’d spent long years striving for a promotion, to advance in the Bureau so that he could go after infamous criminals like Capone. He’d be one step closer if he’d just contact Lieutenant Pluggett and tell him what he’d found.

  And that was just one of his problems…

  Ross Hooper had yet to wake. Dr. Quayle had come at sunrise to examine him and had declared that his condition had improved, but only just a little. So far, the incision and drains showed no signs of infection, though it could be several weeks before he’d be up and around. Jack hated to admit it, but he was thankful Ross couldn’t ask him any questions. Before now, Jack never would have been able to lie to a fellow agent, but how could he tell Ross about Maddy’s involvement? Still, he wouldn’t
be able to avoid the problem forever.

  Jack heard footsteps behind him and turned to find Virginia Benoit wiping her hands on a towel.

  “I just took a pot of soup off the stove,” she said, “and was wonderin’ if you’d like some.”

  “Thank you, but I’m not very hungry.”

  “Take my word for it,” Virginia said with a smile, “what with takin’ care of your friend, you’re gonna need to keep your strength up. ’Sides, like my dear Jean-Pierre used to say, I make the best darn chicken vegetable soup this side a the border.”

  Jack gave a friendly laugh. “I’ll have some later. I promise.”

  Virginia nodded and looked like she was about to leave, but she lingered longer. “I’m sorry ’bout how things went last night with Maddy,” she finally said. “What with bein’ away so long, I reckon that wasn’t the welcome you was hopin’ for.”

  “You heard?” Jack asked, surprised, though deep down he knew he shouldn’t be; it felt like half of Colton had watched Maddy hit him.

  “Everyone in town has, but don’t be angry ’bout that,” Virginia explained. “What with how hard things have been round here, gossipin’ ’bout the two a you is darn near the most excitin’ thing to happen in months.”

  “I’m glad my misfortune can entertain everyone,” he replied, a touch of bitterness in his voice.

  “It ain’t like that, I said. It’s just that folks round here ’member what you was like together ’fore you left. ’Cause a that, we all just assumed, myself included, that you’d be married and havin’ babies by now. There weren’t a woman in town who didn’t sympathize with Maddy when you left. So to see you come back to town outta the blue, well, it was a surprise that no one woulda expected.”