“We all saw you having a good time, Emmie.” His voice was cold. “What were you doing there?” he asked. But he knew and just wanted her to own up to it. He needed to hear the words from her lips. Whoever the bootlegger was that told her about the Harris vs. Johnson trial had invited her to the party.
“What was I doing there?” She avoided his question. “I went to school and church with those people. Those are my people,” she shouted. “What were you doing there besides causing good folks trouble?”
“You want to do this now? You want to shout at me now, in front of my brother and my friend? Is this what you want?” he said coolly.
How dare he turn this to her. She saw red. “Oh, you want to act like I’m the one causing a scene? Honey, you’re the one that just showed your ass in that barn back there.”
Silas laughed and touched his pants. “I showed my ass… in the barn?”
Trick and Gabe lost it in the front seat, making rude comments about her choice of words. She didn’t find any of it funny, in fact, it just made her angrier. “Oh, shut up all of you. You probably weren’t even invited. You all think this town is no fun, so you just aimlessly drive around looking for folks to pick on.”
Silas turned toward her and put a hand on her knee. She tried to move away from him but there was nowhere to go. “Okay, I’m sorry,” he smiled down at her. She could tell he was trying to use his smile to worm his way out of this mess but it wasn’t going to work. Not tonight.
“I was there because I was invited,” Silas answered her earlier question.
“Why would they want a Yank like you at their celebration?” she spit.
“Are we name-calling now?” He arched an eyebrow. “At least you could be original. That redneck boy has already used that one.”
She sighed. He was right. That was the first time in her life she’d ever called anyone that. She never understood why Yankee was a derogatory word in the south. But she couldn’t let it go of her anger. It consumed her.
“Maybe I should have said bastard or S.O.B.—do either of those names work better for ya? If you like, I may be able to think of some more.” She lifted her eyebrow.
Silas rubbed his face and turned to look out the window before speaking again. He was doing his best to stay calm.
“I was his attorney, Emmie. I got him off, scot-free. That damn celebration was because of me. It was because of my hard work.”
Emmie couldn’t believe that she hadn’t already put that together. Of course that’s why he was there. She pinched the bridge of her nose and looked down.
“Now, I’ll ask again and I want the truth,” he said. “Why were you there?”
Because the other night when I was visiting with Bo and Walter in the cave, distilling moonshine by the way, they invited me. She’d like to see the look on his face if she did tell him the truth. But the consequence of that wouldn’t be worth it. He’d probably have Gabe turn the car around and lord knows what they would do to Walt.
“Bo invited me. I saw him in the store. He said his family hadn’t seen me in a while, they were worried about how I was doing and invited me for dinner. I didn’t know I had to run all social obligations by you,” she said.
“I’ve had about enough of your sass, Emmie,” he said firmly then continued. She rolled her eyes and looked out the window, turning away from him.
He grabbed her chin and pulled her face back toward his. “This Bo, how do you know him?”
She sighed and threw her hands up. “I’m weary of telling you this. I’ve already said school, church. I’ve known him a long time. In case you haven’t noticed this town’s not that big. Folks know each other.”
He leaned into her, needed to see her face as she answered the next question. “You swear to me he’s not the man you gave the moonshine to? The man you’re keeping from me?”
“I swear to God. I didn’t give him the moonshine I found.” It felt good to be honest.
Silas sighed and rubbed his jaw and thought for a second before asking his next question. “Was the man there tonight?”
“Why do you get to ask all of the questions, huh? I’ve got a couple of my own.” She bit her lip. There were a lot of people at that party but she didn’t want to answer that question. It’d be just like Silas to check names off a list. Admitting that the person was at the party was a good as giving him a list to run through.
Silas tilted his head to the side and looked annoyed. Finally he put his hands up and conceded. “Fine. What’s your question Emmie?”
She smiled feeling a brief satisfaction. “When you walked in, I was tasting some of the Johnson’s peach moonshine.”
“From the asshole’s flask,” Silas nodded calmly, “I saw. Go on.”
Emmie pursed her lips and blinked a few times to let him know she was irritated before continuing.
“Jealousy looks good on no one, Silas,” she said then went on. “Bo said his mama made that ’shine.”
“And…” he said, wanting her to get to the question.
“It tasted just like the moonshine I had at the speak in Smith’s Grove. The Johnson family supplies the moonshine for the speakeasy, don’t they?” she asked.
“Yes, they make the ’shine for the speak and the pig, why do you want to know?” he asked.
“The pig?” Her eyes were wide.
Silas rubbed his jaw. Why the hell did he say that? “Yes, the pig. That’s all you need to know about that. Why do you care?”
She shrugged, “Just curious.” For the first time in the whole car ride, she smiled. It made him uneasy.
“You’ve heard what curiosity does to cats, right?” he asked dryly.
“Are you threatening me, Silas?” she asked.
“No, not me.” He squinted his eyes at her as if to say that’s crazy. “Them.” He pointed back in the direction of the Johnson’s house.
“They were pretty nice folks before you pulled out a gun on their grandson,” she said. “I’d have to say you started it.”
Silas thought about that for a moment and shrugged his shoulders. Then he looked at her seriously. “Maybe that’s true. But believe me on this, you don’t want to be sniffing around their secrets. Trust me.”
Emmie frowned. With a knitted brow she asked, “Did they really burn down the barn?”
“I am not talking to you about this,” he answered.
“Your lack of an answer makes me think they did,” she said with wide eyes.
He grinned, “Just like your lack of answer makes me think your bootlegger was at that party tonight.”
Gabe interrupted their conversation, “Any idea why an old man with a white beard would be following us?”
Oh God. She had to come up with something. “That’s my neighbor. He watches out for me sometimes. I could tell he didn’t like me leaving with you guys.” She said the first thing that came to her mind.
Silas turned around and looked at the man through the back window. “For a poor girl living out here all alone, you sure do have a lot of men sniffing around trying to take care of you.”
Emmie frowned, “He and Mae are like my surrogate grandparents. He just wants to be sure you take me home safely.”
Gabe made the turn into her drive. Walter slowed down behind them. Emmie turned and waved for him to go on. She smiled to say, “I’m alright.” He frowned and turned to head back to his house. She appreciated that he cared but she didn’t want them to become curious about him.
Silas seemed to be convinced she was protecting the bootlegger because she loved him. He was right. Only, he wasn’t thinking of the right kind of love. Sometimes, he saw things too black and white and didn’t even realize it. There were all kinds of love. She loved Walter like family. That’s why she couldn’t sell him out. If Silas ever opened his eyes, he might figure it out. So, she had to keep him away from Walter.
Silas helped Emmie step down out of the car. He walked her up to the porch.
“Are you sure you won’t stay at Ava’s?
Or I could stay here with you… I mean… it’s been a rough night,” Silas said.
“I’m fine.” She shook her head. “It won’t be me they will come after.” Her face looked concerned for him.
Silas rubbed his jaw. “Don’t worry about that. They won’t come after me; they need us too much. I’ll make it right.”
Emmie nodded. They stood there on the stairs in silence again for a moment.
“When I walked up and saw you there in the barn, you looked so happy. ” His face fell. “I’m sorry I embarrassed you.” He leaned in and kissed her cheek where it was starting to bruise. “I’m sorry you got hurt. But you’re wrong. Those are not your people.” Silas shook his head. “They are not like you.”
Not knowing what to say she left it alone. “I’m sorry I cursed at you.”
He laughed then fell serious again. “Emmie, please let me help you with this problem you’re dealing with. I can see your thinking about things all the time. Asking questions about the pig and the speak… I know it’s got to be connected to that moonshine you found. I just need to you fill in the missing pieces. Tell me who you gave it to.”
“I’m sorry I can’t.” She shrugged. “I wish I’d gone to you first. But now he has it. I can’t ask him for it back. I think it’s part his anyway.” After tonight, I’m even surer that I can’t tell you. If you ever treated him like you did Bo…” The words she wanted to say caught in her throat.
Silas cursed. It was his moonshine, not Ronnie’s, not this bootlegger’s. And attached to it was the money that was standing between him and Chicago. He had to get this fixed. “Damn it, Emmie. Let me help you.”
“I can’t,” she said, feeling like they were repeating the same argument they’d just had days ago.
“Emmie, please. You don’t understand…” He put his hands on each side of her face, begging.
“No, you don’t understand…” she said softly.
He took a step back and ran his hands through his hair in stiff motions. “I can’t do this. I can’t be with you… if you don’t trust me…”
“I just can’t risk it. I’ll work all this out though. Just let it go, please,” she begged.
Silas shrugged and repeated the phrase she’d said to him just second ago, “I can’t.”
He walked away and left her standing on the porch. The boys sat in the car with their headlights shining on the door until she made it in. Gabe shouted, “Lock up,” out the window as the car pulled away.
Chapter Thirty-five
Walter called her that night to be sure she made it home okay… and that she was alone. He didn’t ask too many questions but she could tell by his tone he was uneasy. The next few days passed painfully slow. Too much time to think and only her dog to talk to. She threw herself into making the costumes. Ava’s was finished. It was stunning. Ava had asked her to create a headpiece with a black fabric candle to go with the full pumpkin skirt. Emmie thought that may be a bit much, but that was Ava. So, she did what she was asked from leftover material she’d used to make the black bodice.
She’d stayed up until the wee hours of the morning working on her own costume. It was difficult to pin your own body, so she’d invited Ava over yesterday as a stand-in. Of course their bodies were totally different. She was mostly just guessing, but it was looking pretty. Ava convinced her to make a tiny witch-themed fascinator. Her dress was basic—brown, with black lace. She intentionally made it look like a regular drop-waisted dress, veering a little off the pattern. If she had black silk and lace, she wasn’t going to waste it on a dress she would wear only one night. She put a little silver ribbon accents around the neckline and hem. But she just used a whipstitch, something that could easily be removed later without doing too much damage to the dress. With her hat and the small broom she’d crafted from a branch and some old straw, folks would get the drift she was a witch. And if they didn’t, she didn’t really care. She was just using the dresses and easy conversation about the party as a distraction.
Emmie had woken early, despite only a few hours of sleep the night before. She drank her last swallow of coffee, scratched Spotty’s ears, and turned to head out the door. He followed her outside and to the store, just like he always did. His face was smiling and his tongue rolled out of his mouth. When she reached the store, she pointed to the bench just outside. Spotty took his usual place under it while he waited for her. Perhaps this is who she was to become… an old maid… a lady surrounded only by her pets… a dog lady.
When she entered the store, she noticed Will looked worse for wear. She tried to engage him in conversation but he avoided every attempt. Sometimes he just blatantly ignored her. Emmie had absolutely no idea what was going on. She felt she was physically repelling people now.
“Will?” She made his name a question.
He didn’t answer just looked up at her waiting for her to continue to speak.
“Not that it’s any of my business but is everything alright?” she asked.
He shrugged his shoulders in reply and went back to working.
An awkward silence ate up some time in-between a couple customers. Will let out what must be the third yawn since he got there that morning. This last one was loud. She heard his back pop as he stretched his shoulders.
“If you want to go take an early lunch break, I can handle this,” she offered.
He sighed and put his hands on the counter thinking it over.
“You really wouldn’t mind?” he asked.
She shook her head. “Not at all.”
“Thanks Emmie. I’ll be back in twenty minutes, I promise.” And he walked out the room and into the side parlor she used to use for sewing. Emmie was surprised he didn’t head upstairs to his apartment. He dropped right down on the small sofa and was snoring in about five minutes.
Nearly an hour passed but she didn’t have the heart to wake him. Anyone that tired needed to sleep.
***********
“Emma? Where is Will?” Mr. Thomas asked in a clipped voice, his eyes searching the store. She smiled and pointed to the side room. Peering in there he could just see Will’s long legs draped over the side of the sofa and hear the faintest rumble of a snore.
“He was so exhausted. I told him I could take care of things for a bit. It has really not been that busy. I’m all caught up, so I’ve just been unpacking these dishes,” she explained. But he wasn’t listening. As he moved past her into the parlor he spit, “That wasn’t your decision to make, Emma.”
“Get up,” Mr. Thomas shouted.
Will awoke startled, taking in his surroundings for a moment.
“What the hell were you thinking? I pay to you work, not lie around here and sleep like some lazy dog,” Mr. Thomas shouted.
Emmie wasn’t sure if she should intervene or not. Maybe they’d had some sort of quarrel she didn’t know about it.
“Lazy?” Will said incredulously. “Lazy?” he repeated a little louder. “You really have the balls to call me lazy? You sign us up for this bullshit but I’m the only one I see out all night long.”
Emmie tried not to listen to the family fight. It was none of her business. She moved further away from the parlor and began putting the dishes on a shelf. “You promised me we’d be making good money. We’d be doing what was right and just. But I ain’t seen a dime and it don’t feel right and just, out there stalking folks.”
“Will, you know this is for the best. And there will be money,” Mr. Thomas whispered. “We’ve almost got it.”
“We? We? Paul, we haven’t almost got anything,” Will whispered. “It was my ass camped out all night at the shoe store, not yours. Then you expect me to be here first thing in the morning all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. I can’t do it anymore.” Will took off his white linen work apron and threw it on the ground.
“Will, think about your actions,” Mr. Thomas said, sounding more like a father than a brother.
Will laughed. “You think I haven’t been thinking about my actions?” He lea
ned in a whispered to his brother just barely loud enough so Emmie could still hear, “I don’t think it was you that got chased away by the shotgun-toting sheriff at two o’clock this morning, was it? Think about that, brother.”
Emmie dropped the plate she was putting on the shelf—the sheriff.
Will turned and stormed upstairs to his room, his loud feet pounding. The light fixtures shook on the ceiling above them as he charged into his room. Emmie walked to the back room to find the broom and dustpan to sweep up the broken glass. She hoped they hadn’t noticed she overheard their fight.
When she walked back into the store, she found Mr. Thomas standing over the mess she’d made.
“I’m sorry about that. I’ll pay for it,” she apologized. “Sometimes I’m clumsy.” She tried to add an easy smile but he didn’t smile back.
“Emmie. I’ll ask you to use discretion with any of that conversation that you may have overheard. It’s important business we’re up to.” He grabbed her arms and bent down a little so they were eye level. “Business that would make you proud.” His smile looked off. She didn’t know what to say or do, but just nodded and turned to start cleaning up the mess.
The rest of the morning her mind was abuzz trying to process the fight she’d overheard. Will had been chased by a shotgun-toting sheriff. A sick feeling in her stomach told her it was Drake.
Sheriff Drake was the one who came to tell her about Ronnie. It was from his lips that she learned about his crash. He’d even walked with her to see smoldering remains of the car. He seemed like such a nice man that day. Now, she knew he protected the moonshiners. He was the kind of man that let grown men pull guns on each other while he stood by and watched. Her feelings were all mixed up. What could Will and Mr. Thomas be into that would make Sheriff Drake chase him?
***********
“Emma, if you want to take your lunch, I’ll watch the store for a bit.” Mr. Thomas had been all pleasantries since his argument with Will this morning, walking around like a peacock with his tail feathers out. Why in the world would he be so happy that she’d overheard his conversation?
Shine On Page 17
