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The Forgotten Daughter

Page 13

by Lauri Robinson


  Josie’s blood turned so cold goose bumps prickled her skin. She’d never considered that possibility. “No,” she whispered. “No.”

  “Yes,” Scooter said. “They probably watched me drive your car to the police station. They could even have followed us all the way back to my gas station.” He bounded to his feet. “No wonder they were here last night.”

  Chapter Nine

  Although he didn’t know the man well, Scooter was happy to see Ty—and Norma Rose—climbing out of Ty’s truck. Forrest had told him Ty used to be a private investigator. That’s what had brought him to Minnesota. He’d hung that hat up before asking Norma Rose to marry him, but he still had connections. Ones that had helped Forrest solve the case against Galen Reynolds. Scooter hoped Ty might be inclined to help him. He had a feeling he was going to need it.

  Pulling his motorcycle up to the front door of the resort, Scooter cut the engine. “You go on in and change your clothes,” he told Josie.

  “What are you going to do?” she asked.

  “I’m going home to put on dry ones, too.”

  She climbed off the bike, but her steady stare said she didn’t believe he was simply going home. He wasn’t. But he wasn’t about to tell her that.

  Hand in hand, Ty and Norma Rose approached. “Did you two fall in the lake?” Norma Rose asked.

  “Yes,” Scooter answered. “Well, she fell in,” he said, correcting himself. “I jumped in to save her.”

  “I didn’t need to be saved,” Josie said.

  “What were you doing?” Norma Rose asked.

  “Bringing in the raft we used last night.”

  “Was it salvageable?” Ty asked.

  “Yes,” Scooter answered. “Nothing more than a few surface burns. We pulled it ashore down by the first dock.” Hoping the other man would catch his hint, he added, “I’ll need some help and a truck to haul it to the barn.”

  “Let’s go and do it now,” Ty said. “It’ll fit in the back of my truck.”

  “If you don’t mind,” Scooter said, trying to cover up his gratitude.

  “I thought you were going home to change,” Josie said, eyeing him guardedly.

  “I am,” he said. “This way I won’t have to come back later.”

  She pinched her lips together and glowered. “Then I’ll come with you and help.” Nodding toward Norma Rose, she added, “We’ll all go.”

  “No, we won’t,” Norma Rose said. “You need to go and change your clothes. Those pants will probably be stained forever. Besides, I want to talk to you.”

  “About what?” Josie asked.

  “The resort.” Norma Rose stretched up on her toes and kissed Ty’s cheek. “See you later.” Snagging her arm, she tugged Josie toward the door. “I’ll put your pants in to soak while you change.”

  * * *

  “I’ll meet you at the dock,” Scooter told Ty as Josie watched him over her shoulder. “I don’t want to get your seat wet.”

  Ty nodded and walked toward his truck while Scooter started his bike and headed back toward the lake. The cycle was parked and he was standing next to the raft when Ty arrived. Waving both hands, Scooter guided Ty as he backed the truck down the hill, and then he placed a rock behind the back wheels so it wouldn’t roll when Ty cut the engine.

  As Ty climbed out of the truck, he said, “Norma Rose and I didn’t go to a picture show. We did a little investigating instead.”

  “Investigating?” Scooter asked, making no move to start loading the raft.

  “Yes, on Francine Wilks. I thought I recognized the name when Bronco mentioned it last night and wanted to check it out.”

  Scooter’s throat went dry. “And?”

  “And,” Ty said as he leaned against the back of his truck, “when I was looking into Galen Reynolds’s past, I discovered he was involved with the Eastman gang out of New York. Since the late 1800s, they’ve created quite an empire. An underground one. Prostitution, gambling, peddling opium. They also have droppers all across the nation. Some are little more than front men who aren’t really accepted or protected by the gang. Galen was one of those. A middleman in their opium deals. The drugs were stored at the Plantation until runners picked it up. Galen never really had control of any of it. When Prohibition hit, the feds caught his shipments at the port of Duluth and the Eastman gang pretty much ousted him. He dipped his fingers in prostitution, importing and exporting some girls, but he was too greedy. Too many girls disappeared under his reign. From what I’ve seen of the Eastman gang, Galen’s lucky he lived long enough to go to trial for his counterfeiting. If the gang’s big boys had discovered what he’d been doing, they’d have filled him with lead long before he was arrested.”

  Scooter was listening, but also trying to find a way to interrupt. Galen Reynolds’s past was of no concern to him.

  “You’re wondering why I’m telling you all this,” Ty said.

  “Yes, I am,” Scooter agreed.

  “One of the founding men of the Eastman gang was Ike Eastman. He married a woman named Patricia Wilks, and brought her entire family into his operation.”

  “Wilks,” Scooter said, “as in Francine Wilks.”

  “Yes,” Ty answered. “From what I can figure out, she’s a great-niece and well-established in the family. Francine’s been working her way west the past few years. Detroit, Milwaukee, Chicago, St. Paul. Setting up prostitution rings, solid ones, before moving on to the next city and still making a portion of every dollar those rings bring in. Francine is not like Galen. She’s the real McCoy, with an entire establishment behind her. A force to reckon with.”

  Scooter let out a low whistle before he asked, “Have you told Roger any of this?”

  “No,” Ty said. “I just confirmed it all while Norma Rose and I were in St. Paul today.”

  Scooter planted both elbows on the box of Ty’s truck and rubbed his forehead with his palms. Things couldn’t get a whole lot worse than this. He released the air he’d been holding in and rubbed his forehead harder.

  “What is it?” Ty asked.

  Scooter sighed and then started talking. He began with Maize’s disappearance and ended with Josie’s arrest. When he finished, this time Ty was the one who whistled.

  “Roger doesn’t know about any of this?”

  “Not that I know of,” Scooter said.

  Ty was shaking his head. “He must not know. He’d have mentioned it, and he’d have stopped Josie’s involvement long ago.” Pacing the ground near the back of the truck, Ty continued, “I knew about the rubbers in Josie’s closet. Norma Rose told me. She believes Josie just stores them there for Gloria Kasper to pass out to the girls who rent rooms on the third floor.”

  “Does Roger know about them?” Scooter asked. “The rubbers?”

  “That they are in Josie’s room?”

  He nodded.

  Looking shocked, Ty asked, “What do you think?”

  Scooter’s spine quivered. “No.”

  Ty nodded. “He’d have put a stop to that, too.” Letting out another whistle, Ty added, “What was Gloria Kasper thinking? Dragging Josie into it like that? The woman must have a death wish.”

  Scooter wondered if he also had a death wish. He could hope Roger bumped him off in a quick and smooth fashion, but considering how long he’d known what was going on, Roger would most likely make him suffer. Long and hard.

  Ty must have had somewhat similar thoughts because he’d stopped pacing and the look in his eyes was sorrowful. “I’d hate to be in your shoes, Scooter.”

  Rubbing his head again, which was pounding, Scooter answered, “They aren’t very comfortable. I’ll tell you that.”

  * * *

  “Will you quit staring out the window?”

  Josie spun around. “I’m just wondering what is taking Scooter and Ty so long.”

  “It hasn’t been that long.” Norma Rose leaned back in her chair on the other side of the desk. “You haven’t heard a word I’ve said, have you?”

&
nbsp; Josie opened her mouth to say yes, but if Norma Rose asked what she’d heard, she wouldn’t have an answer. She hadn’t been listening. Her mind had been on Scooter. He’d made her promise not to mention what they’d figured out to Gloria. Josie hadn’t planned on it—then. Now she was contemplating it. Scooter could be in real danger. As much danger as those poor girls locked in the warehouse.

  “Josie?”

  Snapping her head up, she asked, “What?”

  “What is wrong with you? It’s not like you to be so preoccupied.”

  “I’m not preoccupied,” Josie said. Searching for an explanation, which wasn’t easy, she added, “I’m just worried about—”

  “Who threw that fireball at the raft last night?” Norma Rose asked. “Well, don’t worry. Ty’s looking into it.”

  Every muscle in Josie’s body went stiff. “There’s no need for Ty to be investigating it. I’m sure it was just some pranksters.”

  Norma Rose sighed. “If you’re sure of that, why are you worried?”

  This was exactly why Josie had chosen to remain silent for so many years. It was way too easy to talk herself into a corner when it came to her family. Fortunately, she had heard a word or two her sister had said earlier. “Tell me again what you are suggesting when it comes to Maize?”

  Norma Rose frowned, but then leaned forward and pointed to the calendar on her desk. “Ty and I are going to be gone for two weeks. Now, I know Twyla said she’d come and help, but I believe she’s going to be very busy at the Plantation. I was thinking we could hire Maize to help you. She could bring Jonas with her. A boy his age will find all sorts of things to keep him busy out here, fishing and swimming. All the things we used to do as kids. Uncle Dave suggested it yesterday, and after seeing Maize last night, I think she’d do a good job. I didn’t mention anything to her, because I wanted to ask you first.”

  Thankful the conversation didn’t require much thought on her part, Josie nodded. “That sounds fine to me.”

  “I know how important your Ladies Aid meetings are to you, and I don’t want you to have to miss them while I’m gone. With Maize here, you won’t have to.”

  Josie held in her sigh. “I said it sounds fine.”

  “I was thinking I’d ask her to start this week, if she’s interested,” Norma Rose continued, as if Josie hadn’t spoken. “That way she can shadow me for several days. Learn all the ins and outs and...”

  Careful that her sister didn’t catch the way she glanced toward the window out of the corner of her eye, Josie leaned back in her chair and let Norma Rose go on. She was bound to, whether Josie spoke or not. Which was fine, as it gave Josie free rein to wonder what was taking Scooter and Ty so long. All they had to do was load up the raft. It wasn’t even that heavy. Well, it was for her, but not for two strong men. She feared but doubted Scooter would tell Ty anything about her trips. He’d held his silence for this long. Then again, he hadn’t been as involved then as he was now. All because of her.

  Josie’s thoughts were completely twisted among themselves when the office door opened. “Where’s Scooter?” she asked, as Ty entered the room.

  “He went home,” Ty answered. Turning to Norma Rose, he said, “Your father just arrived. So did Ginger and Brock, along with his family. And I saw a boat coming across the lake, so I’m assuming it’s Twyla and Forrest. You might want to let Moe know they’ll all be here for supper.”

  “That will be nice,” Norma Rose said. “We can have a family dinner one last time before everyone goes their separate ways.”

  Glad to have an excuse to leave the room, Josie stood. “I’ll go and let Moe know.”

  “Tell him to add a plate for Scooter, too,” Ty said. “I invited him to join us.”

  Josie flinched. She wanted to talk to Scooter, but didn’t need him talking to the entire family.

  And that was precisely what happened. She’d barely had a chance tell Moe who’d be there for dinner and change her clothes before the entire family, plus Scooter, were gathered on the balcony raving about the party the night before, including Scooter’s fireworks, while eating Moe’s fare.

  Twyla’s animated description of watching the fireworks from Forrest’s airplane dominated the conversation for an enormous amount of time. Josie kept glancing at Scooter, who was at the other end of the table, next to her father. The two of them had had a brief but deep discussion that left her hands trembling, especially when they both looked her way.

  Her mind was trembling, too, and for the life of her, she couldn’t come up with an excuse to leave the table. The subject had turned to Babe Ruth and went on forever. In fact, it seemed everyone was gathered around the table for hours.

  When Brock’s mother said it was time for them to leave, Josie all but leaped to her feet. Scooter did, too, but in order to offer to help Brock load up the wheelchair. He walked past her without so much as a sideways glance.

  Josie followed everyone as far as the front door, where Twyla once again dominated the conversation, talking about how she’d start moving her things to the Plantation the following day.

  Twyla was still talking when Forrest led her out the front door. The familiar sound that hit Josie’s ears should have made her happy, but it didn’t. Neither did seeing the taillight of Scooter’s motorbike as he rode it down the driveway.

  Ginger and Brock said good-night and headed for the stairs. Norma Rose and Ty said they were going to take a walk before turning in, and Josie spun around, ready to retreat to her own room, when a powerful sense of unease rippled through her.

  Her father’s hand fell on her shoulder. “I need to talk to you, Josie-girl.”

  “Oh,” she said, almost choking on a solid lump in her throat. “About what?”

  “You and Scooter—”

  Josie’s ears started to ring and the room threatened to spin. She knew it. Knew there’d come a time when he’d betray her.

  “—aren’t going to be able to pick out your new car tomorrow. Big Al informed me last night he’d have a new shipment coming in next week. He wants you to wait, and I agreed. It would give you several more to choose from.”

  A car. Really? She’d almost fainted because of a car? She didn’t even want a new one.

  “I’m sorry to disappoint you. I’ve already told Scooter. He said he’d take you over there as soon as I hear from Big Al.”

  Her mind was still going in other directions, none of which included a car—old or new. Scooter hadn’t told her father. Just like he’d promised. That caused even more confusion inside her.

  “It’ll be sad to see Ginger leave tomorrow,” her father said. “It’s been nice having her home. But she and Brock are doing well down in Chicago. I’m happy for them.”

  “Me, too,” she said.

  “And for Twyla and Forrest,” he said. “Your sister will soon have the Plantation buzzing again, and Forrest will get his airmail contract. I’m sure of that.”

  More like he’d make sure of it, Josie thought, but she merely nodded. Her ability to make small talk was gone. Scooter had taken over her mind.

  “Things sure have changed around here,” her father said. “Quickly.”

  “That’s how change is,” she muttered. “Doesn’t even give us time to contemplate what’s happening.”

  He grinned. “You’re right there.” Giving her shoulder a squeeze, he said, “You’re so much like your mother, Josie. So levelheaded and rational. The opposite of a couple of your sisters.”

  The lump in her throat was back.

  “I appreciate that, darling. I’ve never had to worry about you.”

  Dread, or perhaps shame, wouldn’t let her ramble down that road. “It’s late, Daddy. I’m going to turn in.” As unfathomable emotions bubbled up inside her, she stretched up on her toes to kiss his cheek. “I love you.”

  “I love you, too, Josie-girl,” he said. “Good night.”

  “Night.”

  She was almost at the ballroom when he asked, “Oh, what do you think
about Norma Rose’s idea of hiring Maize Blackburn? The poor girl hasn’t had it easy since her husband died. Or since that debacle with Galen Reynolds.”

  Squeezing her hands into fists to stop them from shaking, she dredged up a smile. “I think it’s a fine idea.” Then in great need of escape, she repeated, “Night.”

  Her flight up the stairs was swift, but as soon as she shut her bedroom door, Josie realized there was no escaping. Not for her. There might never be.

  Chapter Ten

  Tuesday morning wasn’t any better than Monday morning had been. Scooter was still at a loss. He’d never been this hopeless before, not even when his father had died and he’d found himself responsible for his family. Knowing what had to be done, he’d dug his heels in and went to work. Sleep had been nonexistent for a time. He’d delivered groceries during the day and repaired any and all types of vehicles at night. From bicycles and motorcycles to automobiles. It had taken a long time to build up a customer base large enough for him to quit the grocery store, and a bit longer before he’d saved enough to buy his first gas pump.

  All the time his friends had been going to school and visiting the amusement park on weekends, he’d been working. And saving. He’d been tired, exhausted at times, but never scared. Hardly even worried. Deep down he’d known it would all come together and that someday he wouldn’t have to watch his pockets empty out at the first of every month.

  It had worked out and he no longer fretted when it was time to tear off another page of the calendar. He wasn’t flush with money, but his family was clothed, fed, had a roof over their heads and there was still money in the bank at the end of every month for rainy days.

  Flipping the sign hanging on the door of his gas station from Closed to Open, Scooter stared through the glass, not really looking at anything in particular. The sun was shining. The sky was blue. The train whistle sounded as usual. A normal day.

  Except everything was not normal. He had an overwhelming desire to punch something.

  Scooter unlocked the door and pushed it open. For the first time in his life, hard work, long days and short nights weren’t going to be enough. Furthermore, he was scared. And he didn’t like it.

 

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