Glitter and Gold (The Canary Club Novels Book 1)

by Sherry D. Ficklin

  I shake my head. I’ve listened to his warnings, and he’s right. But doing nothing isn’t an option, either. “I’m crazy about her, Benny.”

  He snorts. “You’re half right. You are crazy.”

  “One big score,” I say again. “That’s all I need. One big score to get us outta here. We can go to Chicago, or maybe even down South. I hear Savannah is nice this time of year.”

  Stopping outside his house, Benny turns, taking me by the shoulders. “Dickey, I’m begging you. Don’t do something you’ll regret. Even if you love this girl, she’s not worth your life.”

  That’s where he’s wrong. How could I possibly expect him to understand? He’s never loved a girl except for his mama and little sister. How could he possibly know the sorts of mad things a man would do to be with the person he loved?

  I brush him off. “You need to go get some sleep. You guys are moving next week, right?”

  With a deep, resigned sigh, he nods. “Yep. It’s not far, but it will be a lot smaller. We’ll be alright. We will make it work.”

  Patting him on the back, I offer him a look of sympathy. He’s doing what he has to, and so will I. Maybe its best this way, best I keep him out of it. He’s got his own life to look after. As I stare at him, I realize that this might be it. This might be the end of our friendship. If I do score enough to run away, it’ll have to be a clean break. I’ll have to walk away from everything here and not look back.

  He’s the only thing I’ll miss, I realize. Not my family, or the other mooks I hang with at the clubs. Just Benny. Strong, reliable, honest Benny.

  He’ll be better off without me.

  With that depressing thought, I walk away, whistling as I beat the pavement to my own apartment to start making my plans.

  I sleep most of the day away, dreaming of pink lips and red hair. I’m a man beyond hope. Even in my dizzy obsession, I can see that. When I finally wake, I pound the pavement for a few hours, chatting up some of the folks who work for Dutch Schultz and his scion JD, Lilly’s would-be fiancée. It’s an interesting mix of opinions about the men. Though most agree that Dutch is universally feared and loathed, JD seems, at least to the fellas who work for him—to be a decent guy. Brewer’s fellas, however, tell it a bit different. In their account, JD is a borderline imbecile. Bad with numbers, unreliable, and generally a party-boy egg who burns through his daddy’s cash as quickly as he brings it in.

  Nothing I hear about either of them wavers my resolve. When I finally hop the train, it is a quarter past nine and I know I’m not making it back before morning. Even as I slink over the wall into the judge’s yard, I plan our escape. Just like this, I’ll sneak in, grab her and her bags, and we’ll beat it back to the train. Only instead of stopping in the city, we’ll ride on toward some new place.

  And as soon as we step foot in our new life, I’ll marry the girl—if she’ll have me.

  Lilly Rose is my shot at a Hollywood ending, the kind in the pictures where the fella and the dame ride off into the sunset together. And for once in my life, I’ll be the hero instead of the villain.

  The light in her window is on, but the curtains are drawn. Unsure what else to do, I pick up a small rock from the ground and lob it gently at the glass. It connects with a distinct click. I drop back into the shadows just a bit, in case I’ve remembered the description she gave me wrong. But like an angel appearing in the sky, her curtains part and her face appears, a wide grin creating dimples in her cheeks.

  I step out, revealing myself, and she waves, then holds up one finger. I wait as she vanishes, then reappears a few moments later from around the back of the house. She runs to me, and in the heartbeats before I catch her up in my arms, I feel like the luckiest fella alive. Once I have her, I lift her off her feet and kiss her soundly. It feels like forever since I’ve seen her, even though it’s been less than a day. Releasing her to the ground, I sigh.

  “Now, what would your fiancé say if he saw you throwing yourself at another fella like that?” I joke.

  She shrugs. “With any luck, he’d topple over and die of jealousy. Then I’d be out of this whole mess.”

  Grinning, I pull her back into my arms. “What if I told you I had a plan for just that?”

  Sliding back just a little, she raises one eyebrow. “Is that so?”

  I nod. “I’ll take care of everything. You trust me, don’t you, Lilly?”

  She grins, kissing me again before answering. “You know I do.”

  “Then be patient. I’ve got a plan. I’ll need a week, two tops, then we can be together.”

  “I’d like that,” she says, her arms snaking around me. In her embrace, my confidence doubles.

  We can do this, I think. We can make all our dreams come true.

  We are inseparable for the next few days. I take the train out to see her each night, eventually falling asleep on the floor beside her bed. She offers to lay with me, but I don’t trust myself not to press the advantage. I don’t want her to think I’m taking advantage of her, that my feelings are anything less than genuine.

  The following week, she comes to the city and sneaks away long enough to help me move Benny and his family into their new apartment. It’s as small as Benny had feared, and they have to sell a fair number of things just to make space. But it’s close to the cannery and the school, and at the end of the day, they are together, which Benny assures little Thomas is all that really matters.

  When I finally deposit Lilly at Bergdorf’s, she hesitates.

  “What’s the matter?” I ask, concerned by the pensive look on her face.

  She shakes her head, voice soft. “Daddy has the money for the dowry. I didn’t want to say anything, but…”

  I take her hand in mine, “It doesn’t matter,” I assure her. “I’m ready. I’m making my move tomorrow night.”

  She lights up, and I can’t help the warmth spreading through me. By this time next week, we’ll be long gone, probably even married. Living in a place of our own—on our own terms.

  I release her to her shopping and return to the Garment District, where I case the Brewer club one last time.

  The trucks arrive at three pm like clockwork, then Sam, the bartender and club manager, opens the back door, leaving it unattended while they move the new barrels in and the empty ones out. I’ve already pinched a pair of blue overalls, the same ones the delivery fellas wear.

  I spent the last few afternoons greasing palms down at the Building Commission to get a glance at the building plans. Once I did, I dropped the last of my dough on a bribe to one of the union workers who had installed the safe in the hidden room below the bar. It’s also where they store the liquor for the weekend parties. I’ll sneak in with the delivery guys, then hide out until Sam brings the night’s take to the safe. Once he has it open, I’ll stick him up with the pistol I lifted from Benny’s father’s dresser during the move. Tie him up down there, and ankle.

  From there, all I have to do is get out through the back door unseen, jump the train to the judge’s, and get Lilly. We’ll have an hour to pack before we have to be back at the station to catch the train to Philly, and from there, anywhere we want to go.

  It’s the perfect plan, if I do say so myself.

  And the best part is that I’ll be long gone before the Brewers even know what hit them. Or, in this case, who hit them.

  My palms itch just thinking about it. The perfect heist. The perfect getaway. All to rescue the perfect girl.

  For once in my life, lady luck is smiling down on me.

  I don’t see Lilly again before the heist. Once everything is set, I decide it’s best not to get too distracted. That afternoon, I wait, smoking a Lucky near the back door to the club as three o’clock approaches. My fingers are twitchy, my muscles tight in anticipation. The truck arrives, and I saunter over as they back in.

  “Hey, Deacon sent me to help with the offload,” I say to the fella with the clipboard. He grunts, not questioning my story.

  “St
art there,” he says, pointing a stubby finger toward the first stack of crates.

  I spent the next few hours helping with the offload, carefully stacking and arranging the crates to provide me a cramped hiding spot, which I duck into once the truck is nearly empty. The last barrel rolls in and the lights flick off, followed by the click of a key turning in the lock.

  I step out from my spot just long enough to discard the coveralls in a dusty corner and run my fingers along the small pistol. It’s only got two bullets in it, and they are only there in case things go sideways. I don’t want to use them. The threat of the weapon should be enough.

  The temptation to crack into one of the crates and help myself to a bottle of hooch is strong. Only the image of Lilly, waiting for me at her window, curbs the desire. Unwilling to risk it, I grope around for my hiding spot in the pitch dark and wait with my eyes closed as I imagine the things we’ll do with this dough. The places we will go, the things we’ll see. Maybe we’ll travel a bit before we settle down, or maybe we’ll get hitched right away and start a little family of our own.

  These ideas are enough to keep my mind occupied as I wait. Eventually, the sound of music drifts down through the wooden floor above me, dust falling in bitter layers as people upstairs slide across the floor. The tickle of piano and the deep reverberating of the bass race forward, picking up speed like a train. Above me, there’s laughter, mumbled voices, and the relentless thumping of the trumpet as I wait below. I don’t open my eyes. Instead, I sit, absorbing the sounds of the city nightlife one last time.

  When the music dies down, I crack my neck, cradling the gun in my fingers. Waiting.

  The turn of the key finally comes, followed by the click as the electric lights glow to life. Finally, I open my eyes, blinking as they struggle to adjust from the darkness.

  As he does every night, Sam crosses the room, a thin sack filled with cash in one hand as he approaches the safe. It stands nearly as tall as him, thick grey lead nearly the same shade as his hair. Sam is thin, but strong, his blue-striped shirt straining against the old-fashioned garters he wears across his arms.

  Slinking from my spot, I wait until he lurches the safe door open to make my move.

  “Hands up,” I demand, my voice quiet but firm.

  He moves to turn around, but I step forward, pressing the gun into his lower back.

  “Don’t try anything funny. Just step aside.”

  He obeys, taking a side step even as he faces me. There’s a brief flicker as he recognizes my face, but I can tell from his expression that he can’t quite place where he’s seen me before.

  Good.

  Holding out my hand, I gesture to the sack of cash with my chin. “Hand over the dough.”

  “You better run fast and far, buddy. The Brewers don’t take kindly to being double crossed,” he warns, handing over the cash.

  “Thanks for the warning,” I say as if that’s something I wasn’t acutely aware of already. “Now do me a favor and…”

  Before I can get the words out, Sam rushes me. But he’s old and slow and I have just enough time to swing my gun hand, catching him in the side of the head and taking him down cold. His body collapses to the ground with a thud, a small pool of blood blossoming beneath his hair.

  I take a deep breath, glad I hadn’t had to shoot him at least, before forcing myself to look away. Stepping over him, I grab three more bags of cash from the safe, and a smaller, black velvet bag that’s unusually heavy. Stuffing the smaller bag in my pocket, I turn my attention back to Sam, digging the door key from his pants before retrieving my loot and slinking out the door. I close it slowly, careful not to alert the guard I’m sure is still waiting upstairs, and lock the door behind me. Making my way up the stairs, I spill out the back door into the rear alley.

  It’s good and dark, probably a few hours from sunrise, and I dump the sacks into a duffle bag I’d hidden behind the trash cans earlier that day before beating it down the alley toward the train station.

  It’s only a few blocks, but I keep my head on a swivel, constantly waiting for the scream of sirens or some other indicator that I’m being chased. Nothing comes. By the time I board the train, daylight has broken fully. Life appears to be moving normally around me. Even so, I don’t drop my guard until I’m safely seated, chugging my way toward my Lilly Rose.

  It’s far later—or earlier—than I expected. If she’d been waiting for me that night, she must be thinking the worst—that something had gone wrong and I wasn’t coming at all. I wait in the bushes near the gate until I see the judge leave in his town car. Only then do I sneak in, trying my best to stay hidden as I approach the south side of the estate. I’m about to look for a rock to toss at her window when I hear her voice. Following the sound, I catch sight of her through the lower window of the dining room. She sees me, too, and I wave for her to come out.

  Her face lights up as she stands, rushing from the room and out the front door. She doesn’t run to me this time, but her steps are quick and light as she approaches.

  “Is it done?” she asks, blinking her long lashes.

  I nod, holding up the bag. “All the cash we’ll need. More than enough to get us outta town, to get us somewhere no one will ever find us.”

  Her smile falters at the corners. “What? What about JD?”

  Shaking my head, I hold out a hand. “You don’t have to worry about him. Not ever again. Don’t you see? We can run away together. Start a new life anywhere you want. We can go right now. We should, actually,” I admit. “It’s not going to take the Brewers long to figure out what I did. We should go. Now, Lilly.”

  Now her smile completely vanishes, replaced by something different. Her cheeks flush as she speaks. “The Brewers? Dickey, what did you do?”

  I hold up the bag again. “I knocked over the Brewer’s club, so we’d have enough scratch to disappear. To start over. I thought that was what you wanted?”

  She smiles again, but this time, its contorted—a mask of rage.

  “You said you were going to kill JD,” she nearly screams, and my eyes dart around to make sure there’s no one close to overhear her outburst.

  “No, I didn’t. I said I’d fix things.”

  Now she turns her back to me, throwing her hands into the air before finally spinning to face me. “You really can’t do anything right, can you?” Her mouth clamps shut, and she brings a thumb up to chew on the nail. “How am I supposed to fix this?” she mutters.

  Closing the distance between us, I take her hands. “Lilly, there’s nothing to fix. This is our shot. You can forget about JD, and we can take off right now. Forget about the judge and the engagement. Run away with me. I’ll take care of you for the rest of our lives. We can be together.”

  She pulls free of my grasp.

  “Oh, you thick clod. I was never engaged to JD. I only wanted to marry Deacon Brewer. But my father wouldn’t hear of it, him being in cahoots with the Schultz and all. He was afraid of losing his in with the family.

  “You were supposed to fall for me. Once you did, I had to convince you to kill JD. Deacon would make it look like Daddy had set the whole thing up. They’d find his cash at your apartment and think he hired you to do it,” she says in a rush, pacing back and forth as I struggle to make sense of what she’s saying.

  “You… and Deacon?” I stammer.

  She blinks up at me in disgust. “Of course me and Deacon. It was his idea. He didn’t need you to break in here to get that ledger. If he needed it, I would have gotten it for him easy enough. He needed a patsy, some schmuck I could charm into doing his dirty work.”

  Her eyes flicker to the bag at my feet, “But you went and robbed him. How stupid can one person possibly be? Everything was going so well.”

  She trails off again, and I can actually feel my heart shattering in my chest.

  I got played. This vamp had conned me into loving her, just so she could get me to kill a man. And for what?

  “I can fix this,” she mutte
rs to herself, chewing her thumb again. “I can still make this right.” Her head snaps up to me. “You have to go out there right now. Go back to the city, find JD, and then plug him. That’s what you gotta do. Then you can take that pile of cash and run off.”

  All I can do is stare at her. My entire body is numb from the shock of her words. It’s not just that she doesn’t love me—she loathes me. Everything else was just an act. For a solid minute, I listen to her mutter, feeling as if the blood in my veins has turned to ice. I can’t move, can’t look away.

  Deep inside me something cracks, severing all my dreams.

  Finally, cold reality snaps like a cord pulled too tight, and I can move again. My mind is still jumbled, but I know I must get out of here, away from this venomous dame. Grabbing the bag from my feet, I turn, not looking back, and run full out.

  I don’t want to wait for the train—in case she gets the bright idea to call the cops or something—so I hitch a ride in the back of a truck bound for Jersey. It’s a windy, bumpy ride. The entire time, I clutch the cash, fighting against the waves of nausea that roll over me.

  I jump out near the bridge, waving thanks as I beat a path to the only person who might be able to help me outta this mess.

  Benny’s place isn’t far, but every sound makes me jump. Every face seems to be staring, as if I’m wearing a neon sign that reads thief. Sucker. Loser.

  I’m beating on his door like I’m trying to wake the dead. He finally opens it, hair disheveled, sleeping pants wrinkled, his undershirt worn and threadbare. I brush past him into the living room, tossing the bag on the sofa as the entire story spills out of my lips in one crushing breath.

  Finally, when I’m certain I’m going to faint, he takes my arm. I expect him to be angry. To tell me I should have listened to him or I need to get out. But he doesn’t. Like a true friend, he squeezes my shoulder.

  “First thing we gotta do is take this cash to the cops,” he reasons. “Tell them the whole story. All of it.”