Max had gone still. It was difficult to tell if he was glowering or contemplating. “What exactly do you think you know about her?”
If nothing else, Ellis knew this for certain: he was treading on tenuous ground.
He took an extra moment, cautiously navigating the exchange. He was about to reply when Max said, “Sal?”
In an instant, the driver gripped Ellis by the front collar of his shirt. Ellis reflexively tried to resist, the pressure of the man’s knuckles tight against his throat.
“Mr. Trevino asked you a question,” Sal told him.
Weaseling out with a softened, bullshit answer about Max’s sister was the most obvious move. It was Ellis’s best shot at getting out of here in one piece, literally. But his instincts—or maybe dumb hope—said Max harbored similar concerns. That this, more than any alleged article, was the reason for this meeting.
“I’m no expert,” Ellis said, his voice strained from Sal’s hold, “but I’ll share what I got.”
After a pause, Max’s solitary nod cued Sal to back off. Ellis caught his breath and scraped his words together in a hurry. While aware of the risks of being flat-out wrong, he would dare to be candid.
Max took occasional slow puffs as Ellis spilled what he’d gathered. He recounted the troubling observations he’d seen and heard, the growing signs of delusion. The threats to Ellis, no matter how depraved, would mean little in this place. So rather, he spoke of Ruby’s inherited clothes and name, of the cruel letters and lies, of a brother secretly ripped away. He described the many hours of punishments for hindering the resurrection of a daughter—a niece—who, in reality, was gone.
By the time Ellis finished, Max was fingering his cutter, its circular opening the size of a man’s thumb. Piling on more arguments would be a gamble. There was a fine line between supplying information and dictating an opinion.
In the end, Ellis took the chance. “Quite simply, sir, I’d say you’ve got two choices. Your sister loses the girl…or, before long, you lose your sister.”
Max’s fingers slowed. The corners of his eyes tightened the slightest amount. The wait that followed brought no reassurance.
At last, he replied with finality, “A man’s gotta do what’s best for his family.”
The ambiguity of what that meant held Ellis in place. Behind him, the squeak of a shoe indicated Sal was again moving closer. No doubt he was itching to resume one of the grimmer perks of his job.
“Tomorrow morning—eight sharp,” Max stated. “You meet me at Sylvia’s, and the girl goes back where she belongs. Capeesh?”
The unexpected plan, let alone the speed of it all, threw Ellis off. He fell wordless until Max leaned forward. “I trust you ain’t got a problem with this.”
Preventing another grip to the throat, Ellis answered, “N-no. Not at all, Mr. Trevino.”
Max took another pull off his cigar and reclined once more. “Sal, we’re finished here. Give Mr. Reed a lift back.”
In stoic compliance, Sal started for the exit. Ellis hurried out of the booth to follow. This time, he’d be the one trailing behind but wishing he could charge to the front.
A few steps in, he realized he hadn’t voiced his thanks. It was more of an investment than a courtesy. He turned around to find Max lost in thought, and knew not to interrupt. Particularly with pensiveness riding the man’s features. The duty of telling his sister the news had to be a source of dread.
Just hopefully not enough to change Max’s mind.
Chapter 36
Lily had every right to be cross. Ellis was well over an hour late. And yet, when he stepped through the entry of the dimly lit pub—among the few establishments still open in town—only relief poured through her.
He appeared to feel the same. Upon spotting her, he marched straight to her table in the corner. “I’ll explain,” he assured her. “I’m just so glad I found you. I was afraid you’d headed home by now.” He had taken a chance, traveling all this way, searching the area for her.
“Yes, well…there’s a reason I stayed.” She hesitated to share the news, but his expectant look pressed her on. “He’s been adopted, Ellis, but I know we can still find him.” She emphasized the last portion before catching her own volume. There were enough local patrons scattered about to be cautious.
Ellis sat across from her, his interest captured, as she caught him up and detailed her plan. “To be safe, we really ought to wait another hour. By then, the lights in the orphanage should be out for the night. The front door is heavily bolted, and other doors might be the same. But in an old building with so many windows, there simply has to be a way to sneak inside and peek at those files.”
When she paused, Ellis’s lack of reaction made her cringe. He had to think she was mad. What if they were caught? The director was hardly the lenient type. They could wind up before a judge, their careers and reputations destroyed no matter the verdict. Not to mention the fresh dose of gossip that would plague her family.
But they couldn’t just give up. She couldn’t.
“Ellis, if you don’t want to be part of it, I’d fully—”
“I’m in.” There wasn’t a speck of wavering, and that confidence helped fuel her own. Still, the way he looked at her with those blue eyes nearly made her forget her purpose.
Then a noise intervened, a small relief. It took her a second to identify the growl of his stomach. A similar recollection came to her, from their time at Franklin Square.
She suppressed a smile as she slid over her bowl and spoon. “Do you ever remember to eat?”
He took a whiff of her remaining stew, and his mouth curved upward. “Only with you, apparently.” His sigh after the third bite suggested more than one skipped meal.
As he continued to eat, Lily sought to avoid dwelling on the risks of the mission ahead. “It just occurred to me,” she said, “that day in the park, you never told me the story.”
He was in the midst of a swallow when he looked up, uncertain.
“About a duck and…gelatin, was it?”
He half chuckled, half coughed.
“Sorry.”
He cleared his throat and shook his head. “It’s a silly thing. Nothing worth repeating.”
“From the sound of it, I highly doubt that.” She pressured him with a playful stare until he raised his spoon in a show of surrender and sat back from his stew.
“I was about ten, I guess. Wanted to go pheasant hunting with Pop, so I tried to work up the gumption to shoot a real bird. When no one was home, I took our four-ten shotgun outside, along with a carrot-and-spinach gelatin mold that Ma made for a potluck supper with some mining folks.”
Lily could see where this was going. “Oh gosh. You didn’t…”
“The shell was just full of tiny BBs. I didn’t think a single shot could do that much damage.”
“It exploded?”
“To a million bits—which wasn’t such a bad thing, given its god-awful taste. Problem was, it splattered an orange-and-green mess all over our sheets hanging to dry.”
She couldn’t help but laugh, envisioning the scene. “Did you get in a heap of trouble for it?”
“Got a doozy of a lecture. Would’ve been the belt for sure, but I was so bruised from the recoil that I managed to get a mercy pass.” He grinned at her. As if on cue, laughter burst from patrons across the pub, turning Ellis toward them. Inches below his hat, a terrible scrape marred his cheek. Was it a scuffle that had caused his delay?
She reached for the wound without thinking, and stopped herself when he angled back to her. “What is that from?”
Ellis went to answer, but more laughter arose. He swept a look around, seeming disconcerted by listeners within earshot. A reminder of their situation.
He tipped his head toward the exit. “Let’s talk on the way.”
• • •
&nb
sp; A faint sprinkling dotted the windshield as they drove, the clouded sky darkening. It wasn’t yet eight but looked to be ten. The stickball players were gone. The porches were vacant. All of this, Lily noted, would serve as an advantage.
Ellis parked down the road from the old tannery and shut off the engine. Among the orphanage windows, a few upstairs glowed with lights. Those of the sleeping quarters would be the last ones out.
On her own, Lily would have been antsy with impatience. Instead, she was wholly engrossed, listening to Ellis’s highlights from the past two days: the plea from Ruby, his arrest at the school, the confrontation with the Millstones, and a surprising deal with a mobster named Max.
Geraldine hadn’t heard any of this yet; there hadn’t been time, Ellis said. Besides, he was plainly digesting events more befitting a picture show with Pinkerton agents and spy rings than real life.
“At least Pop and I are on better footing.” He offered a half smile. “We just might be living together again soon.” It was a bare attempt to lighten the mood, burdened by looming consequences that could now be far worse.
Respectfully, Lily played along. “Well, Geraldine will sure be grateful to have Ruby back, especially once she’s heard the full story. By then, hopefully we’ll know where Calvin’s gone. And if needed, goodness, I know my parents would gladly make room for the Dillards until they’re settled.”
Ellis nodded with another smile. He set aside his hat, and a wavy lock of his black hair fell over his temple.
For several seconds, Lily tried to leave the topic at that, but she couldn’t. “Aren’t you afraid of Sylvia, though? That she’ll seek revenge of some kind?”
He ruminated a moment. “I guess I’ll find out.”
“If they’re really the ones controlling your savings, could you ask that fellow—Max—about it?”
Ellis spurted a laugh. “When it comes to money, I get the feeling he’d be less sympathetic. Never mind on the heels of another favor.”
Frustration kept Lily from relenting. Yes, she had given Ellis a piece of her mind when she feared the lure of materialism and flashy headlines were changing him for the worse. But to have it all stripped away was utterly unfair.
And having him help her tonight could severely compound the situation, she realized. “If you’re already facing charges… Ellis, you shouldn’t be here.”
“And give you all the glory? Fat chance.”
“I’m serious. You don’t have to do this.”
“Yes. I do.”
“But the risks you’d be taking—”
“Aren’t all that different from yours.”
She could argue about his higher stakes, yet the resolve on his face said there was no point. Then he looked at her through the fuzzy grayness, his features softening. “It’ll be okay. Whatever happens, we’re doing the right thing.”
At the gentleness of his tone—a true reflection of him, she had learned—the buffer around her heart closed in. He parted his lips as if sensing this, and over the steering wheel, his hand eased downward. The possibility that he would reach out and touch her cheek, kissing her as he once had, trapped the breath in her throat. The sensations of that moment flowed back: the feel of his fingers in her hair, of trailing down the side of her neck.
But his fingers suddenly curled under, settling on his leg.
A message, unintended or not.
She shifted toward her window. With a discreet exhale, she wiped the images from her thoughts, grateful he couldn’t see them.
Would the lights in the orphanage ever turn off?
“You do realize,” he said after a bit, “if we pull this off, it could make great material for your own column before long.”
Aside from the chief, she hadn’t discussed her offer with another soul. She turned back to Ellis. “You heard?”
He appeared just as baffled as she was. “You landed a column?”
“I thought… You sounded as if you knew.”
“I didn’t,” he said.
“Then, how…?”
He shrugged with an amused air. “Just seen you with Nellie Bly’s books about a thousand times. Always figured she’d brought you to the paper from the start.”
Lily was touched by his close attention, though she wouldn’t dare tell him so. “Am I that predictable?”
“Based on tonight? I’d say you’re anything but that.” She broke into a smile, which he sweetly mirrored, adding the charm of curved lines to his cheeks. “Anyway, congratulations. To get a slot like that from the chief, your writing must’ve really wowed him.”
“I think it was more a matter of pestering to the point of wearing him down.”
“I doubt that. The chief never had much trouble with the word ‘no.’”
That much was true, and the compliment filled her with a heady sense of pride.
“So, when does the column start?”
She had no answer. As she remembered why that was, the purse on her lap gained the weight of iron. Specifically from the diamond ring inside. An anchor to reality.
“Actually…I’m not entirely sure it’s going to.”
“Sorry?”
“It’s just that my plans might be changing.”
He peered at her, a wordless prod.
The news business was a small community, a collection of professional gossipers. Ellis deserved to hear it directly from her.
“Clayton’s been offered a job. It’s on the national desk at the Chicago Tribune. He wants us to go with him. I mean, not us, us.” She motioned back and forth between herself and Ellis, growing flustered. How ridiculous of her to clarify. “What I’m saying is, he’s proposed.”
Ellis’s eyes went wide. “I…didn’t realize…”
Good heavens. She could see him revisiting their time in the kitchen. He thought she had withheld this from him.
“It’s new news,” she told him. “Brand new. I’ve barely had a moment to process it, with the Dillards and all.”
“And you’re accepting?”
She didn’t know yet—though she should. As planned, Clayton had given his notice at the Examiner, evidenced by the chief’s crabbiness that would fade only with time. She had consequently spent the day steering clear of her boss unless necessary. For a vastly different reason, she had done the same with Clayton. He would want an answer soon, and she would give him one.
The right one, she hoped.
“I…think I am…”
Ellis went to speak but seemed to change course. “What about the column?”
“I suppose it would have to wait. It’s really not that important.” She mustered certainty as she went. “Being with Samuel, creating a family, that’s what matters.”
After a pointed pause, Ellis offered a pleased look. His eyes, though, said he was unconvinced.
“Please don’t do that.”
“Do what?”
Look at me that way. Like you understand everything about me. “What happened between us…you and me… I was emotional after Samuel’s fever, and I was grateful for your help and for what you said. It truly meant so much. But I can’t make another mistake, not with my son to think of. And Clayton… He’s a good man, and he’ll be a kind, dependable father. I couldn’t ask for anything more.”
Ellis just held there, taking in her words. When he leaned back in his seat, he conveyed his understanding through a wistful smile. “I’m happy for all of you. I am.”
She refused to meet his eyes, determined not to falter. “Thank you.”
Over the eternal stretch that followed, tension turned thick as stone. It formed with little effort, both of them experts at forging walls around them.
“It’s time,” he said at last and grabbed a flashlight from under his seat.
Only when he climbed out did she realize the orphanage had gone dark.
Chapter 37
This was the room. Aiming his flashlight through the chest-high window, Ellis confirmed they were outside the office. A pair of stacked files awaited on the desk, just as Lily had described.
The only problem: the room’s lone window wouldn’t budge. He shoved harder, but the lock was set.
“How about this one?” Lily whispered, already moving on.
Ellis followed and beamed his light into the neighboring room. An array of toys denoted a play area. He tried to gain entry.
No luck. On to the next.
This one was a classroom.
Same result.
Just a handful of windows remained on the first floor, at least on this side of the building. Still, the odds of finding any of them unlocked looked slim.
It was a unique precaution in a town this small.
Lily shot him a glance, as if sharing the thought. Shadows underscored the apprehension in her face. But that didn’t stop her from continuing to another room, hands splayed, ready to give it a go herself.
“Hold on,” he cautioned. He needed to assess it first.
Not waiting, she gave the window a shove and brightened when it rose an inch.
She was driving him batty—for more reasons than this. But he couldn’t think about those now.
Fortunately, the space was vacant, another classroom resembling the first.
He stored the flashlight in his coat pocket, and they shimmied the pane upward, one side at a time, until the gap was large enough to climb through. Lily grabbed hold of the windowsill. It was too high to pull herself up, but her reluctance to ask for his help was evident.
His inclination to offer was almost as strong, in spite of any good sense. “Here, I’ll give you a boost.” He formed a step by lacing his fingers. Given the constraints of her work skirt, he squatted to an accommodating height.
Sold on a Monday Page 25
