By Starlight

by Dorothy Garlock

  “Jeffers told me that you offered him money,” she said bluntly. “He said you were working for a man in Seattle and that you were back in Colton because he’d sent you to buy land for him.”

  Jack laughed out loud. “He sure didn’t waste much time. I reckon he had plenty to say about me, but I doubt any of it did me any favors.”

  Maddy paused. She thought of all the things Jeffers had said, about how Jack couldn’t be trusted, about how he’d only come back to town long enough to do some business before he’d leave as he’d done seven years before, about how he was only using her for cheap thrills for old times’ sake. But then she recalled Jeffers’s own declarations toward her, his unwelcome advances, the way he’d touched her, and the fear she’d felt at being alone with him.

  Her revulsion must’ve been plain on her face, for Jack suddenly asked, “What happened, Maddy? Did Jeffers do something to you?”

  “Nothing,” she answered with a slight hitch in her voice. “It’s nothing.”

  “If he did anything…”

  “I told you it’s nothing,” she said angrily, though much of it was toward herself for how she’d behaved in the cellar. Maddy knew it would be easier to tell Jack what had happened. From the way he’d reacted there was little doubt that he’d confront Jeffers. But that wasn’t what she wanted. What had happened in the speakeasy was for her to deal with. She’d fight her own battles. “Nothing that I can’t handle. I’m not the frightened girl you knew.”

  Jack didn’t argue further, but Maddy could see he wasn’t happy.

  “Is what Jeffers said true?” she asked again, refusing to let the matter go.

  Jack slowly shook his head. “No,” he said. “I was lying to him. I’ve been lying about it to everyone in town.”

  “But why?”

  “I already told you,” he repeated slowly, “I can’t tell you why. Just understand that if the man I work for found out that I’d told anyone my real reason for being here…I don’t want to imagine what he’d do to me.”

  “What about the man Dr. Quayle’s caring for at the Belvedere? Does he work for the same man you do?”

  Jack looked shocked. Then, just as she thought he was about to ask her how she came to know such a thing, he gave a short chuckle. “Is there anything about my coming back to Colton that Virginia Benoit hasn’t spread all over town?”

  “I doubt it,” Maddy answered truthfully.

  “Ross works with me,” he admitted. “We were sent here together, but we’d only been in town for an hour when his appendix burst. If it wasn’t for the doctor, he’d probably be dead.”

  “And no one knows why the two of you are here?”

  “You know more than anyone,” Jack replied, his green eyes holding her in place with intensity.

  Maddy felt the truth about Jack’s return as a tickle in the back of her head, as something tantalizingly close but just out of reach. It was there in what he’d told her, mixed in with the lie he’d given Jeffers, in things he’d said on their bridge. Remembering the questions he’d asked about her, her father, about goings-on around town, suddenly brought it all into a clearer focus until she felt something slip into place.

  “This all has to do with the speakeasy, doesn’t it?” she asked.

  Jack looked away quickly but not fast enough to keep Maddy from seeing that her guess had struck true.

  Slowly, Maddy began to put the pieces of Jack’s puzzle together. She thought about everything he’d told her, about how the man he worked for was demanding, how Jack had to do difficult, dangerous things, how he seemed afraid to imagine what would happen if he failed to complete the task he’d been given, and how he claimed she’d be better off not knowing the truth. Now she knew that it was all connected to the speakeasy. When she added all of these things together, there was only one possible conclusion she could reach.

  Jack is working for the Mob!

  Maddy couldn’t believe it, yet there it was, right in front of her! She couldn’t imagine the man Jack had been, the person she loved, being caught up in such a dangerous way of life, but what else could it be?

  “Are you all right?” Jack asked; once again, her face must have given her away.

  “I’m… I’m fine…,” she answered, unable to meet his eyes.

  “Maddy…,” Jack said, hurrying her; eventually, she looked up at him, his face shielding her from the sun, and she felt her heart skip. “I know it’s hard to—”

  “Shhh,” she said, placing a finger against his lips. Right then, with everything she’d begun to understand about him, she realized that none of it really mattered, not so long as she knew how he felt about her. “Do you love me?” she asked him. “Right now, right here, just tell me.”

  Jack’s eyes warmed as they searched her face. She knew this time was different, that he wouldn’t be evasive like he’d been on the bridge, that he wouldn’t tell her to trust him and that they’d talk about it later. This time, whether she agreed with the answer or not, she’d know.

  “I do,” he said, melting her heart. “I’ve never stopped.”

  Maddy couldn’t have said which one of them initiated their kiss; as she listened to him tell her the words she’d longed to hear, her own desire was so great, her passion to feel his lips pressed against hers so overwhelming, that she may have acted first, grabbed hold of his arm, pressed herself against him, leaned up as she closed her eyes, and begun to hungrily kiss him. Or it could have been Jack. Either way, she let herself go, feeling the heat of his skin, listening to the sound of her heart in her ears, smelling the familiar scent of his skin, and tasting his tongue as it pressed against hers. There, by the back door to her family’s store, she finally felt as if the barrier between them had been broken through, that somehow, someway, they would find their way back to each other. Even if Jack was involved in something as dangerous as the Mob, she’d find a way to set him free.

  No matter what, she’d make sure that they were together, just as they’d always meant to be.

  Chapter Eighteen

  JACK WALKED BACK to the hotel with his hands in his pockets and his head somewhere up beside the wispy clouds that had begun to blemish the otherwise clear sky. Replaying his conversation with Maddy over and over in his head, he wrestled with conflicting emotions; on the one hand, he was angry with himself for telling her as much as he had, but on the other, he knew he couldn’t lie to her.

  I’d have told her everything if she wasn’t involved with the speakeasy.

  But no matter how much he wished otherwise, she was involved and there was nothing he could do to change that. His career as a lawman had been spent investigating and arresting criminals who’d done exactly what Maddy was doing now. She was guilty, and he knew it. Still, he’d done nothing to report her to Pluggett, had told Ross nothing about what he’d discovered, but instead, all he had done was tell her that he was still in love with her.

  Jack knew that kissing her again only made things more complicated, but there was no point in denying that holding her in his arms, feeling the passion explode between them, was exactly what he wanted.

  “If I’m so blasted lucky, how come I’m making such a mess of things?” he mumbled to himself.

  Nearing the Belvedere, Jack stopped on a street corner and wiped the sweat from his brow. As he was putting his handkerchief back in his pocket, he heard the low grumble of an engine and the complaint of shifting gears. Looking up the road, he saw a truck coming toward him, a large one with wooden-slat railing up both sides of the trailer bed. Two men sat in the cabin, but they were too far away for him to see clearly.

  Jack couldn’t have said why, but there was something about the truck that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. Rather than cross the street and go on his way, he waited, watching as it approached. As luck would have it, the driver turned directly in front of him, giving a clear view of the cab.

  Sumner Colt sneered out the passenger’s side window at him, staring daggers with a threat that didn
’t need to be spoken. Across the cab, Jack saw Jeffers Grimm behind the wheel, his eyes never leaving the road, his face a mask of determination and menace. Even as they drove away, Sumner leaned out the open window to look back at Jack, as if he were a growling dog.

  Where are the two of them going in that truck?

  “Did you see that stupid son of a bitch just standin’ there?” Sumner almost shrieked, pulling his head back inside the truck’s cab. “You shoulda just run us up on the corner and squashed him like a bug!”

  “Quit your bellyachin’,” Jeffers growled, his eyes never leaving the road or the task at hand. “Just ’cause he knocked you flat on your ass ain’t ’nough of a reason for us to try and kill him in broad daylight. Hell, he probably didn’t have no idea who we was.”

  “He was lookin’ right at me!”

  “That’s ’cause you was stupid enough to be hangin’ out the window!”

  “I still owe him a lickin’,” the boy threatened. “He best not think I’m gonna forget it, ’cause I ain’t!”

  “You’ll get your chance.”

  Jeffers drove the empty truck over the Lewis Bridge and then off the main road and up into the hills outside Colton. The way immediately worsened, full of deep holes and grooves washed out by rainwater that pulled the truck first one way and then another, bouncing the two of them around in the cab. It’d be like this the whole way. Thankfully, they’d be at their destination within an hour.

  “You reckon he knew what we’re up to?” Sumner asked.

  “How would he?”

  “He saw the truck.”

  “What in the hell would that tell him?” Jeffers snapped. “Jack Rucker’s too busy chasin’ after Maddy Aldridge and tellin’ everyone in town what a big shot he is to pay us any notice. He ain’t got no more idea what we’re doin’ than a damn dog sunnin’ his balls by the side a the road would!”

  The truth of it was, Jeffers had far more important things to worry about than someone watching them drive by; the phone call he’d gotten from Jimmy Luciano that morning telling him it was time to come pick up the last load of booze from Canada was enough. He would rather have waited until near nightfall before setting out, when it was dark enough for them not to draw any unwanted attention, but Capone’s lieutenant had been adamant; they had to go now because of the Canadian side’s timetable. Once all the hooch was stored in the mercantile’s basement, Jeffers was to call Luciano and they’d set up a time for it all to be handed over. Once that happened, Jeffers would get paid a hefty sum, he’d have proven his worth to Al Capone, and he’d be out of Colton and off to better, more lucrative things somewhere like Chicago or Kansas City.

  This is my big chance, and I ain’t gonna mess it up.

  “I can’t stop thinkin’ ’bout what I’m gonna do with all that money!”

  Jeffers glanced over at Sumner; the boy was bouncing around in his seat and it wasn’t all on account of the rough road. He was bubbling over with so much impatient excitement that he looked like a kid waiting for Christmas morning.

  “What’re you gonna do with your share?” Sumner asked.

  “Ain’t no use thinkin’ ’bout it till we have it.”

  “Aw, where’s the fun in that?”

  “What we’re doin’ is business,” Jeffers snarled. “It ain’t fun, boy.”

  “I know, I know…”

  “You better.”

  What Jeffers didn’t know was what he was going to do with Sumner once the job was completed. To Jeffers, Sumner Colt was a useful fool but a fool nonetheless. Though the boy was a loyal flunky who did everything he was told passably well, Jeffers still couldn’t imagine bringing him along when he moved on to bigger and better things; it was embarrassing enough to deal with the Canadians with Sumner loitering around; most of the time, Jeffers made him stay in the truck until business was finished.Then there was the matter of Sumner leaving the speakeasy unattended. How could he be trusted completely? What if the next time the mistake was even worse? Jeffers’s only flunky was a failure.

  Jeffers knew exactly what he himself was: strong, ruthless, and smart. He had the brains to plan big crimes and the toughness to carry them out. Once he got somewhere better, he’d have no trouble finding others to work for him as he rose up to Capone’s heights, maybe even higher.

  As for Sumner, he’d have to be dealt with. There was no point in leaving any loose threads to dangle.

  Before he left Colton for good, there was one other thing Jeffers swore he was going to take care of; he was going to tear every last shred of Maddy Aldridge’s dignity from her. After last night, when she’d rejected his advances, going so far as to look offended, even disgusted, by them, he knew he’d have to take what he wanted by force. It would be violent, full of screams, blood, and tears.

  It’ll be fun.

  Maybe he could kill two birds with one stone. Maybe he’d give Sumner what he so desperately wanted and let him loose on Jack Rucker. Maybe he’d let the boy carve that bastard up while he had his way with Maddy in the other room. The thought caused a hardness to grow in his pants.

  Jeffers gripped the steering wheel tighter as he began to smile.

  Determined to find out where Jeffers was going, Jack decided to find someone who might know. He headed for the Lewis Bridge, cut through a tangle of evergreens, almost lost his footing hurrying down a sharp, rocky incline, and then leaped over a rotten wooden fence beside which stood a pile of cordwood and an axe buried several inches into an old tree stump. His legs and lungs burned, but he knew there wasn’t any time to waste; who knew how far Jeffers and Sumner could get before he set off after them? The thought made him run even faster, regardless of the pain.

  Ahead of him was a cabin that had seen far better days: shingles that had fallen off the roof lay here and there on the ground; a burlap flour sack had been placed over a broken window; and a pile of old food tins leaned precariously against a front door that looked to be off its hinges, resting against the frame. He could only hope that his memory was correct and that the person he needed still lived there or was even home.

  Skidding to a stop, he pounded on the door, grabbing it quickly before it fell inside the cabin.

  Long seconds passed with no answer, but just before he was about to knock again, a pair of hands grabbed the door from the inside and pulled it away.

  “Why, I’ll be! Jack Rucker! What the heck’re you doin’ here?”

  Clayton Newmar stood in the doorway looking like hell; Jack wondered if either he hadn’t gone to sleep yet or he’d just waked up. Heavy dark bags underlined narrow, bloodshot eyes. His shirt was buttoned up only halfway, the buttons done up out of order. One thin hand scratched intensely at his scraggly beard, as if he had an itch that wouldn’t quit. Jack couldn’t help but wonder if Clayton was in any condition to give him what he needed.

  “I need your help,” Jack said, knowing he had no choice but to ask.

  “Well, you done come to the right place, buddy.” Clayton beamed, suddenly showing more life. “What do you need?”

  “Your family used to trap up in the hills around town, didn’t they?” Jack asked. Besides sitting with him at the side of the river eating mud pies, his strongest memory of Clayton was of the boy working beside his father as they skinned the animals they’d caught: red-tailed foxes, rabbits, squirrels, beavers, and every once in a while an enormous bear or fearsome wolf. Once they’d scraped the pelts clean, they’d put them out to dry and all the children around town would come to look. If Jack’s recollection was right, that meant that Clayton would know all of the many ways in and out of the woods, all of the secret trails and roads that were off the beaten path. If Jeffers was doing what Jack thought he was, going to pick up another load of illegal liquor, Clayton would have the best idea as to where he was headed.

  “Sure did,” Clayton answered, looking at Jack curiously. “You wanna go huntin’ somethin’ up?”

  “In a way,” Jack replied. “Can you think of anywhere someone wou
ld go, up in the hills, if they didn’t want anyone to see what they were doing?”

  Clayton kept scratching at his beard. “There’s lots a places,” he said. “There’s that trail that winds round Cooper’s Outcrop, the valley where the Shannonburr River’s dried up most a the summer, you could hike up the trail south a the Barston Ridge, but the goin’s so rough you’d be better off hitchin’ a ride on the back of a mountain goat, then there’s—”

  “Not like that,” Jack said, cutting him off. “What I’m looking for is somewhere you could drive a truck, a big one, somewhere wide enough for it to fit.”

  “A big truck?” Clayton repeated. “Huh…well, I reckon there’s a couple of spots up north could do it.” He finally stopped his scratching, his eyes narrowing before he asked, “Why’re you askin’? You wantin’ to drive somethin’ up there?”

  Jack knew that in order to gain Clayton’s cooperation he’d have to be more forthcoming than he would’ve liked. The more he revealed, the more questions the other man was sure to have. But Jack had no choice but to plunge ahead.

  “I need to follow someone,” he said.

  “Who?”

  “Jeffers Grimm.”

  Clayton sneered as if he’d suddenly smelled something gone rotten. “Messin’ with Jeffers ain’t the best way for a fella to make sure he stays upright,” he explained. “ ’Member I was sayin’ to you the other night that he ain’t the sort you should go gettin’ tangled up with.”

  “All I want to know is where he’s going,” Jack answered. “Believe me, I don’t want trouble with Jeffers any more than you do. I may’ve been gone for a while, but I haven’t forgotten how dangerous he can be. But I need someone who knows his way around the woods. If I go after him on my own, I’ll get lost faster than you can snap your fingers.”