*
Silas tilted his neck to the side and popped it in an attempt to ease the tension that had built up since he left Chicago. He was stiff, tired, and angry that he couldn’t get the image of Emmie standing in Ava’s driveway out of his head. How was he supposed to focus when she cluttered his thoughts? He stood and held on to the wall of the small car as the train finally rolled to a stop. He felt like he had spent all eternity on this train.
They grabbed what few bags they had and departed the train. A car had been left for them at the station, just as he had requested. Trick lifted the hood and Vincent looked under it before they climbed in and started the engine. He couldn’t be too cautious right now. Emmie might have found out about the fires and the lost moonshine, but there were quite a few things she didn’t know. One being that just last week one of the butcher brothers’ trucks had exploded in front of their store. That was how the shop eventually burned down. They couldn’t put out the blaze before it spread to the front of their shop. While the men in the shop had managed to escape, the seventeen-year-old delivery boy behind the wheel of the car hadn’t been so lucky. Whoever had rigged the explosive might not have gotten the person they had meant to, but their meaning had come across loud and clear. Silas was not starting the engine to any car that hadn’t had a good look-over first.
“It’s clear,” Trick said, opening the door.
Silas released a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.
“Any idea who the rat might be?” Vincent asked as they pulled out of the train station.
Al answered, looking at Silas, “He’s got a pretty good idea. I hate to say it, but I think he might be right.”
“Who?” Trick looked at Silas, surprised.
Silas rubbed his jaw before glancing at his brother. “There’s one body from that cabin we never saw.”
Trick frowned, “What are you talking about? We killed them all . . . well, minus the one Emmie took care of before we made it in.”
Vince grinned at Trick’s comment but Silas never cracked a smile.
Al said, “I’ve worked with him off and on for a while now. He was one you could never completely trust, but I didn’t think he would be so this stupid.”
“Will someone please tell me what the hell you guys are talking about?” Trick asked with an angry look at his brother.
Silas knew why he was angry. If he had something to share he usually told his brother first. But he couldn’t tell Trick this. He’d put himself too close to their family. It was partly why his father hadn’t let the boy come back down here. His idea of joining the police force had actually been a pretty good one. They could use a man on the inside. It was an idea Silas hadn’t crossed off the list. He had faith that in the end Trick would do the right thing and put his personal feelings aside.
“Answer my question, Trick. We didn’t see everyone dead, did we? Think of the bodies,” Silas said, turning to glance at him again as he turned the car onto a gravel road.
He could see his brother thinking and then suddenly realized what Silas was saying. Trick gave him a sideways grin, but it didn’t meet his eyes, “Come on, Si, you know that Steven Johnson is dead. Mr. Johnson took care of it. I heard the gunshots in the woods.”
“Hearing and seeing aren’t the same,” Silas said, taking another turn.
“So are you saying that Johnson took pity on his son-in-law, let the man walk, and now Steven has partnered with that dead revenuer’s family in this little vendetta against us?” Trick asked.
“First off, make no mistake. This isn’t just about avenging Jim Parbour. Don’t forget they messed with the butcher brothers’ still the night of the Halloween party. They were attempting to make us buy their moonshine and that wasn’t the first time they had messed with our suppliers. They were trying to strong-arm us into being partners, and we shoved the idea right up their ass. Remember when the butchers sent that man back to them in a box? They were after us before Parbour died. That may have added a little fuel to their fire, but this was already an unfinished fight,” Silas said, pulling up to a house.
“And secondly,” Silas added, “I don’t think it was only Steven Johnson working with him. You know as well as I do that the Johnsons aren’t an easy clan to pull one over on. How do you think all of those people got in that cabin? The cabin that Emmie was working in every day. The cabin where they only kept her apple pie moonshine. They also had their man working at that store with Paul Thomas. Why was that grown man loading goods for Paul Thomas? You know as well as I do the Johnsons weren’t hurting for money. And there’s not a thing going on in that house that Mr. Johnson doesn’t approve of first.” He turned off the car then turned to look at his brother.
“You think the Johnsons burned down their own cabin?” Trick frowned. “I don’t think so. When I talked to Millie yesterday she was really upset.”
“Do you really think he runs his plans past his nineteen-year-old daughter, Patrick?” Silas asked, using his brother’s given name.
Trick rubbed his chin and hit the back seat of the car with his fist.
Silas looked levelly at his brother. “Don’t let your attachment to the girl blind you, brother.”
Trick frowned, looking out the window. A moment of silence passed before he turned back to his brother. “Do you think Bo was involved too?”
“How could he not be?” Silas asked, looking straight ahead.
Trick shook his head, “I don’t know if I agree with you on this. He cared for Emmie. I don’t think he’d have used her like that.”
Silas snorted and rolled his eyes at his brother in reply.
“I’m serious. This better not be your jealousy leading you to believe this. Just because you don’t like Bo doesn’t mean you should go accusing his family of things,” Trick said.
“Are you a McDowell or a Johnson, Patrick? Because you might need to pick a side here,” Silas said coolly.
“Easy boys. Now I didn’t want to believe it either, but Trick, Silas’s logic makes sense. So none of you actually saw Steven dead?”
All three shook their heads and then Al spoke again, “So, we will proceed cautiously. Your father tells me you have been seeing the Johnson girl?”
“Damn it,” Trick said as a reply, “she is not involved in this.”
Silas smirked, “I’m pretty sure I said the same thing about Emmie back when she was turning our moonshine into apple pie a few months ago.”
“She is not involved,” Trick said, crossing his arms.
“Even if she isn’t, her family is. Can you do what we need you to, or do you need to go home?” Silas asked.
“How can you even ask me that? Of course, I’m here for my family,” Trick said, giving his brother a pointed stare.
Silas nodded and then opened the door to the car.
“Where are we? Is this the butcher’s new place?” Trick asked, following his brother up the path.
“No. I needed to stop in and check on a friend,” Silas said without turning to face his brother.
The old man stepped out of the house, hooked his thumbs under his overalls, and pulled a long wooden pipe out of his mouth.
Silas nodded at the older man as they walked closer to the porch. “Walter, I need to talk to you about a few things.”
Trick muttered to his brother under his breath, “Oh, so we are on a social call to Emmie’s surrogate grandparents? I’m glad to see we aren’t mixing business with pleasure, Silas.”
Chapter Thirty-eight
“Come on in, boys,” Mae called from behind the screen door. “It’s mighty chilly out there. I’ve just pulled a pumpkin pie outta the oven. My kitchen is smelling like heaven.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Jones,” Al said and kissed her on the cheek as he entered their house.
Walter gave them a little more than a grunt of a welcome as they moved past him. His gaze was focused mainly on Silas. He grabbed the younger man’s arm to stop him from entering the house.
“We can talk
out here for a second. Surely it ain’t too cold this evening for a northern boy like you,” Walter said, taking another puff of his pipe.
Silas nodded in agreement and fished a cigarette out of his vest pocket. The two of them stood there in silence, smoking on the porch. Walter spoke first.
“Something ain’t right at home, boy,” he said.
“I’m here to work that out,” Silas said.
“Is my girl safe somewhere?” Walter asked.
“Do you honestly have to ask me that?” Silas said, exhaling loudly.
Walter grunted in reply before adding, “She sure has been in a lot of trouble since meeting you. From what I hear of it, you didn’t keep her too safe the day that Mr. Thomas took her.”
Silas rubbed his jaw and tried his best to swallow his anger. The truth in the old man’s words burned him to the core.
“She’s in Chicago. Miles and miles away from the Parbor family,” Silas paused for a second before adding, “and the Johnsons.”
To Walter’s credit, if he was surprised to hear Silas accuse the Johnsons of being involved, he didn’t show it. Maybe he knew something.
“Do you trust them?” Silas asked.
“I never knew a Parbour,” Walter answered.
“I know you don’t know the Parbour’s. You know that I’m not talking about the revenuer’s family.”
“I don’t guess you are . . .” Walter bit his lip, causing the tiny patch of hair on his chin to stand straight up. He sighed and looked right at Silas as he finally answered, “I trust them as long as my interest and theirs are the same.”
“I’m not sure how to take that, Walter. Emmie loves you and I think that family may have been involved in using her as bait. I need to hear what you think before I act. If I take care of that family, I’ll need your backing if she’s ever going to forgive me.”
Walter laughed.
“I’m glad you find this amusing,” Silas said snidely.
“Sorry boy, I just never thought I’d see the day when you came here asking my blessing to do your job,” Walter said then looked at Silas seriously. “You better love her like she deserves.”
“I’m trying,” Silas said under his breath.
A moment of silence passed again before Silas spoke, “I guess it’s not just your blessing I’m after. I also need your opinion. Do you think the Johnsons would use her? You’ve known them longer than anyone.”
“I am not eager to get in the middle of your battles, boy,” Walter answered.
“Fine,” Silas said, smashing out his cigarette then pointing his finger at the old man, “but you need to know whoever this is, they have already pulled our girl into this.”
Walter rubbed his beard and looked at the younger man for a moment before he spoke. Silas had hit him in the only spot that would make him talk, his family.
“I don’t think all Johnsons are the same.”
“What kind of answer is that?” Silas asked.
“I mean that just because one of them might be in on something doesn’t mean all of them are,” he said, turning toward the house.
“Stop, old man,” Silas ordered him. “What do you know?”
*
“Emma, Emma.” She felt someone shaking her shoulders gently.
As she opened her eyes she was startled as she took in her surroundings. Her face was marked with a deep red line where she’d slept half-pressed against the window. Marco Del Grandé’s face came into focus. He was only inches from her.
“We’re here,” he said softly.
Emmie looked out the window. Raindrops slid down the cool glass giving the jet-black night sky a distorted appearance. She stood and stretched her legs and then reached for her bag. She was surprised when Marco grabbed it first.
“If you’ll get the door,” he said, nodding toward the exit of the train car.
She obliged, forcing herself to accept his help. The horrible feeling of guilt was still settled in her stomach. They were in Louisville now and she had no idea how she was going to get back to Bowling Green. Emmie sighed to herself in silent resolve. As soon as they got out of this crowd and into the car, she would own to the truth.
As her feet touched the ground she couldn’t help but think of how good it felt to be back in her home state. She took a deep breath and found peace in the drops of water falling rhythmically from the sky. Marco tried to give her his umbrella, but she shook her head.
“I like the rain, Mr. Del Grandé,” she said.
He looked surprised and then pulled the umbrella back over his body. “I don’t ever expect to be your pop. But maybe you could call me Marco.”
Emmie nodded in agreement. “Okay. And really, I’m Emmie to everyone I’ve ever liked.”
“Emmie it is then,” he said.
Another awkward silence followed as they got situated in the car. As he pulled out of the parking lot and onto the main road, Emmie swallowed hard. This was it; she had to come clean. To her surprise it was actually Marco who broke the silence.
“I thought we could stay the night in a hotel tonight. It is so late and they aren’t expecting us. Showing up tomorrow morning will be better than sneaking up on them in the middle of the night. Unless you’re eager to be greeted with a shotgun up your nose.” Marco laughed. For the first time his shoulders relaxed a little.
“I’m not eager for any shotguns up my anything this evening.” She smiled and attempted to look at ease. She was sure she came up short, but at least maybe it said something that she was trying.
“I’ve had my secretary arrange a family suite at the Tealbach, if that is okay,” he said.
“That sounds great, thank you. I wish I’d known we were staying in Louisville. I have friends up here right now while their boy is working with some doctors. Walter Jones and his family, do you know them?” she asked.
“No, but Molly and Al have spoken of them. They lived near you?” he asked.
“Yeah, they are the closest thing to a family I’ve got,” she said, but regretted the words as soon as they left her mouth. “I mean . . .”
“No, it’s fine,” Marco said, staring straight ahead. “Emmie, I know this is all going to take time.”
Emmie couldn’t believe how patient he had been with her today. When she’d met him at the Halloween party, she’d thought for sure she would hate him for all eternity. Then again when she’d learned of the lies and heartache he’d fed her mother, her anger had grown. So why were she and this man treating one another with such indifferent politeness? Guilt reared its ugly head again. She knew why she was being nice to him. She needed him to take her where she needed to be. Of all the things Emmie had been in her life, she had never been a user—until today. She couldn’t let this go on anymore. If not for him, then for herself.
They pulled into the hotel and she turned to face him. “Marco, I’ve got to say something.”
He stared at her, waiting for her to continue.
“I have no intention of going with you to the Sloan’s,” she said, looking him square in the eye.
“Emmie, I know you are anxious but I’ll be there for you,” he said.
“No, I’m not talking about nerves here, Marco. I mean it flat out. If my mama didn’t want me around those people, I’m not sure I want to meet them right now. I’m sorry to have been dishonest with you. I’ll find a way to pay you back for the train ticket. This was beneath me and I apologize.”
“Dishonest?” he repeated her words, pulling the car to a stop in front of the fancy hotel. Then he gave her a tiny smirk. “You think I didn’t know you were using me to get down here to see Silas? I saw you two fighting out in the driveway this morning. I wasn’t born yesterday, Emmie.”
Chapter Thirty-nine
That took the wind right out her sails. “Wait, you saw Silas and me arguing?” Emmie said, giving Marco a confused look.
He nodded. “I guess if we are getting things off our conscience, I’ll share something too.”
Emmie’s hear
tbeat began pounding an angry rhythm in her temples. She worked hard to keep her face indifferent.
“I heard you screaming at him that you wanted to go home. You were shouting, Emmie; I don’t see how half of the neighborhood didn’t hear,” he smiled.
“What does my argument have to do with you taking me to Kentucky? Why would you bring my mother’s family into it?” she asked, twisting her ring anxiously on her finger. Before he could get the chance to answer either of those questions she added, “Wait . . . Do you really know the Sloan family?”
He put a hand up to stop her, “If you will calm down, I will explain. Yes, your mother’s family is still living. Her parents are gone but she had two younger siblings that I believe still live on her family’s land.”
Emmie exhaled in relief. At least he wasn’t lying to her about that. Marco turned off the car, leaving it parked right in front of the hotel. She followed him as he got out of the car and into the cavernous lobby. The same place that had seemed so beautiful only a month ago at the Halloween party now seemed empty. The elaborate woodwork and marble floors left her feeling hollow. Without realizing it a thought slipped into her mind. She wished Silas were here with her. Emmie closed her eyes tightly against the idea and bit her lip. No. She would not let herself miss him. Pain pricked in her eyes again as she followed Marco Del Grandé to the staircase. What on earth was she doing here with this man? She tried desperately to remember Walter’s address. Would he be the only Walter Jones in Louisville? Maybe she could phone him. She looked up at her father. He poured himself a drink then looked over at Emmie in question.
“No thank you,” she said, sitting on the tiny blue sofa.
He capped the small silver flask, pulled over a chair, and sat right across from her.
“If we are owning to our indiscretions, I guess I should come clean. Ever since I learned that my wife talked to you about the time your mother lived in Chicago, I’ve been trying to find a way to talk to you too. Once I even drove all the way out to Molly and Al’s only to sit there for a half hour in their driveway, turn around, and head back home. Because how do you say you’re sorry for leaving someone?” he asked, looking down at the ground. “Every time I’d think I was ready to talk to you—that question would surface in my thoughts again. It would pop up in different words but the meaning was the same. How do you apologize for being a ghost in her past? How do you say you’re sorry that she holds you in none of her memories? How do you say you are sorry for nothing. Nothing. Because that is what I was to you, little more than a void in your life. How do you say you’re sorry for something like that?” When he looked up at her his eyes were glassy and bloodshot. His mouth opened and his lip trembled as he spoke the next sentence: “Then one day it hit me. You can’t.”
Come Rain or Shine (Shine On Series, Book Three) Page 19
