A smile spread across his face and he replaced his hat. “Maybe we can start over? May I call you Laurie?”
“Of course.”
“How about I buy you some lunch? It would be a treat to take ‘Laurie from Laurel Street’ to the Laurel Street Café.”
Laurie bit her lip, the plan resurfacing in her mind. “That sounds nice, but I’ve already eaten. How about dessert?” Her confidence grew with each word. “If we really wanted to try again, I think we should go back to Larson’s soda fountain.”
“Sounds perfect.” Samuel held out his arm. “Shall we?”
She looped her hand through his arm. Okay, Daniel Shepherd. Go tell your boss about this.
11
Not again.
Daniel ground the pestle against the quinine sulphate, trying not to look at the couple perched on the two stools closest to the pharmacy counter. He leaned into the work, pushing with his shoulder.
“Hey Daniel, take it easy.” Granddad peered around the corner. “I’ve had that mortar for fifty years. I’d like them to survive the summer.”
Laurie’s head tilted toward Brown, a smile flitting across her face. The man’s voice carried across the store, grinding against Daniel’s nerves like the pestle. What does she see in him? She’s from a family of rumrunners; he’s an overzealous Prohibition agent.
And why do I care?
Daniel measured out the powder and poured it into a small bottle. Adding the label, his eyes wandered back to the Romeo and Juliet story playing out in front of him.
“Looks like you waited too long.” His grandfather spoke in a hushed tone, just behind Daniel’s shoulder.
Daniel turned. “Mr. McCurry won’t pick this up for an hour, yet.”
Crinkles appeared around his granddad’s eyes as he smiled. “That’s not what I’m talking about.” He tipped his head in Laurie’s direction. “Time to change that show globe to a new color, I’m thinking. Looks like blue might be taken.”
He turned back toward his work rather than rise to his grandfather’s teasing. The image of Laurie standing in the rain haunted him. Oysters. He shook his head. Rumrunner or no, something about this woman had captured him since he first laid eyes on her.
Granddad was right. He’d moved too slowly.
He braced himself on the counter, trying to ignore Laurie and her date as they laughed and talked over ice cream sodas, the pressure growing in his chest like the carbonation in the soda water. If he didn’t get out of here, he might just bubble over.
Unbuttoning his white coat, Daniel strode to the back room, ignoring the amused look on his grandfather’s face.
Laurie laughed again. “And what happened when you got to the warehouse?”
It hadn’t taken much effort to keep Samuel talking. But keeping her focus locked on him instead of the attractive man at the pharmacy counter—that took concentration.
Samuel wrapped his hand around the tall frost-lined glass, lifting the last spoonful of ice cream to his mouth before answering her question. “By that time, they knew we were coming. They had the entire place cleaned out, top to bottom. We didn’t find as much as a cork to sniff. The entire operation had been moved in a matter of hours.” He wiped his mouth with a napkin.
Keep your eyes on him.
“We were just getting ready to leave when one of their guys comes waltzing in. His eyes were as round as pie pans when he saw us.” He laughed. “Apparently, he’d been sick that morning and hadn’t gotten the tip we were coming. Lucky thing for us, though, because he squealed like a pig on the way to the butcher shop. Told us all about their other cold house locations, and we were able to get the stash after all.” He sat back, smug.
Laurie ran a finger along her jaw, fascinated by how Samuel’s eyes followed her hands. “So you got them after all? That’s remarkable.”
“Sure did. But, man, it was a long day.”
Laurie pulled her soda close to the edge of the counter and peered down into the recesses in an attempt to hide a discreet glance over her shoulder.
Mr. Shepherd had disappeared. Probably off to report to Big Jerry.
She returned her focus to Samuel, noting his arm draped casually along the counter, mere inches from her hand. He’d spent the last hour regaling her with tales of busting up bootlegging gangs in Seattle and smashing backwater stills—each story more thrilling than the last—but her attention remained divided.
Now that her distraction had left, a hollow ache took up residence in her chest. If only the men in her family could be on the right side of the law.
Samuel reached over and placed a hand on her knee. “Penny for your thoughts.”
His touch burned against her leg. She swiveled to the side, out of his reach. “I—I was just thinking how much I was enjoying this.”
A grin crossed his face. “Well, that’s a relief. You looked a million miles away. I thought perhaps I was boring you. Or you were thinking of some other fellow.”
She stifled a laugh. “No, there’s no one else.”
He slid a few coins onto the counter to pay for their drinks. “Can I drive you home?”
The amusement of the moment vanished. And meet her father?
A familiar voice cut in over her shoulder. “That won’t be necessary.” Johnny stood behind her, his feet planted and his eyes like steel. “I’ll be taking her home.”
Samuel stood. “I don’t believe we’ve met.”
Laurie swallowed. “Samuel, this is my brother—”
Johnny crossed both arms over his chest. “We’re leaving. Now.”
Samuel’s shoulders rose a few inches. “Laurie, is there a problem?”
Laurie slid off the stool and put what she hoped would be a calming hand on her brother’s arm, shooting him a pleading glance. “Johnny, give us minute. I’ll meet you out front, directly.”
Johnny stood like a scowling soldier for a moment longer before stalking out the door.
A moment of silence followed as Samuel turned to her with a questioning look.
Laurie took a deep breath. “I apologize for my brother. He’s very”—she fought to keep the edge out of her voice—“very protective. Ever since my mother passed away, he’s turned into a guard dog of sorts.”
Samuel touched her arm, his fingers stroking her sleeve. “I’m sorry to hear about your mother. I lost mine also, about a year ago.”
An unexpected rush of compassion trickled through her. “That must have been difficult. Mine was many years ago. I barely remember her.”
He walked over to retrieve her sweater and his hat. “I hope I can make a better impression on your brother the next time we meet.” He held the garment for Laurie as she slipped her arms into it.
She took her time fastening the buttons while she searched for a response. “I think you need to give him time.” She cocked her head and offered him what she hoped was an alluring smile. “Lots of time. And space.”
Samuel leaned closer. “Time, eh? I have time.” He put on his hat and grinned at Laurie. “I’m a patient man. I believe I can wait him out—as long as I still get to see you in the meantime.”
12
Laurie stepped out of the drugstore and into the heat of her brother’s glare.
“Just what do you think you’re doing?” Johnny’s voice shook.
“Can we discuss this as we walk? I’d rather not have it out with you in the doorway.”
A shudder worked its way through her brother’s lean frame, like a rubber band stretched too tight. Best to be out of sight of the Prohibition agent before he snapped.
Grabbing his arm, she steered him down the sidewalk. “Before you begin yelling, hear me out.” Laurie moistened her lips. “You’ve already said you won’t give up your—your evening runs. By keeping an eye on the federal agent, I can help keep you safe. I can find out what he knows and maybe even feed him some bad information to throw him off your track.”
“I told you to stay out of it.” Johnny jerked his arm free, but kept walking. “I don’
t want you involved in this.”
“I’m already involved. It’s too late for that.”
A string of foul words spilled out of his mouth. “I don’t need my little sister to protect me.”
Laurie squeezed her hands into fists and jammed them into her pockets. “You don’t know what you need. You need to quit running booze, and Dad needs to quit drinking it—but we both know neither of those things is going to happen, so I guess it’s up to me to protect you both.” She took a deep breath and reined in her resentment. “It seems to be my job to protect our family’s reputation. Samuel already knows rumrunners are landing on the beaches here, it’s only a matter of time before he figures out who is behind it.”
Johnny’s head whipped around. “Samuel, is it? Geez, Laurie, how long have you been sneaking around with this guy?” He ripped the cap from his head and slapped it against his leg. “I can’t believe I had to hear about it from Daniel.”
Laurie halted. “Daniel Shepherd?”
“He’s an old buddy of mine. He told me you’d been seeing that G-man.” His lip curled.
Her stomach twisted. She knew Shepherd had been spying on her, but some little corner of her had hoped—or wished—she was mistaken.
“Tell Daniel Shepherd he can watch his own back.” She blinked away tears. “I’m doing this to keep an eye on yours.”
Daniel got back from his walk in time to see Laurie and Johnny disappearing down the street. Their stiff postures suggested that all was not well between the siblings. Acid crawled up the back of his throat.
He ducked into the alley behind the store. He had no desire to hear their argument. Going to Johnny behind her back had been a coward’s move. But that Brown fellow was up to no good and there was no way he wanted his friend’s sister mixed up with him.
She deserved better. A woman like Laurie Burke deserved a man she could rely on. A man she could trust. A man with principles.
A man like me.
His mouth grew dry. The shadows of the brick buildings pressed in against him.
A delivery truck idled at the rear entrance. The driver hopped out and held out paperwork for Daniel. “You work here, right? I still got to see your license before I can unload the crates.”
Daniel pulled out his wallet and retrieved his pharmacy license, a new pang of disquiet added to the cluster jostling around in his chest. Only a few shipments demanded that level of protocol.
“Looks good. Shall I bring in the merchandise?” The young man handed the card back to Daniel and pushed his tweed cap up on his forehead.
“Sure. Let me give you a hand.” Daniel shoved the wallet back into his pocket, his fingers brushing the temperance coin. His stomach churned as the driver threw open the rear door.
“It looks like we’ve brought you two cases of sherry and four cases of scotch whiskey. Man, what a party you could have with that.” The young man winked as he wrapped his arms around one of the wooden crates.
The bitter taste rising in Daniel’s mouth stifled any humor. He reached for the second crate, the bottles rattling against each other.
13
Laurie, where is that worthless flashlight?” Her father’s voice echoed from the far end of the house.
She dropped her pencil and sketchbook on the kitchen table and pushed back her chair, the imaginary world crumbling. The flashlight stood on the table by the back door—the same place he always kept it. She scooped it up and carried it to her father’s room.
Dad’s lower legs and feet protruded from the closet, surrounded by dusty boxes and wooden packing crates.
Laurie frowned. “Are you looking for something, Dad?”
“Just give me the light, will you?”
His clipped tone made her heart skip. She shoved the light into his hand and backed away. A few small boxes tumbled out of the closet and one crashed at her feet, spilling its contents. She crouched down fingering the small pieces of jewelry, scarves, and hatpins. Her hands trembled as she gathered the glittering ornaments. Why must everything of Mother’s be kept hidden away? She scooped the items back into the box and clutched it to her chest.
As her father continued his search, Laurie stole down the hall, hurrying to her room. She shoved the small box under her bed. She’d return it later, after she’d looked through it.
“Laurie!” her father bellowed.
She jumped back to her feet and hurried back. “Yes?”
Here.” He thrust the flashlight into her hands. “Point it over here.” He gestured with his hand.
Laurie tried to hold the light steady as her father searched through a barrel of clothes, yanking through the taffeta gowns and lace-covered petticoats. She blinked away tears. She had no idea her father had even kept these things and now he pawed through them like they were meaningless. Her fingers ached to touch the beautiful fabrics.
“Can’t you hold that fool thing steady?”
She turned her eyes away, keeping the light pointed at her father’s hands. “What are you looking for?”
“None of your business.”
His harsh tone bit into her. He only talked that way when he was drunk—or when he wanted to be.
“There it is.” He laughed, an odd twisted sound. “You can scoot now.” Dad balanced on his knees, hands hidden from view.
Laurie switched off the light. He’s got early shift tomorrow.
“I said, get out. I want to be alone.”
She stumbled backward before turning and marching down the hall toward the kitchen. Her picture world waited.
The bedroom door slammed.
Laurie’s eyes glazed as she stared at the panel of jacks and cords. “Number, please.” She repeated the words, her earpiece silent. Laurie scanned the board and sighed—she hadn’t switched on her connection. “I’m sorry for the wait. Number, please.” Laurie struggled to keep her voice low and melodious as she had been taught.
“Oh, sweetie.” A thin reedy voice twittered into her ear. “I’m afraid I don’t know the number. I never seem to be able to remember.”
Laurie smiled, lifting the volume control. “Yes, Mrs. Creswell. I know. Who are you trying to call?”
“Mrs. Johnson down at the Fir Creek Crossing. Do you know Mrs. Johnson? Her son has never been the same since that awful logging accident. I like to check in on them every few days, just to see how they’re doing. I thought I might stop by, but I wasn’t sure if this was a good day or not.”
The back of Laurie’s neck itched, as if she could feel Mr. Quinn’s eyes on her. Four seconds. “Yes, Mrs. Creswell. I’ll connect you directly. Thank you.”
“That’s a good girl. Now make sure to get Mrs. Johnson on Fir Creek, not Mrs. Johnson on Cherry Hill. One of you girls made that mistake last time and I was so embarrassed.”
“Yes, ma’am, Mrs. Johnson on Fir Creek Crossing. I will connect you now.” She stifled a sigh. “Thank you.” She repeated the words drilled into her by her supervisor.
“Is this Millie, by the way?”
Laurie held the cord suspended, just an inch away from its connection. “No, ma’am. It’s Laurie Burke. I am going to connect you to Mrs. Johnson, now.”
“Oh, yes, Laurie. I was going to ask you about attending the library fundraiser next week. I thought you and your little friend Amelia might like to help with the punch bowl.” Another call light flashed and the fragrance of Mr. Quinn’s hair tonic hung in the air, always arriving a second before he did.
“I’d be happy to, Mrs. Creswell. I’ll come by later to discuss the details. All right? I’m going to connect your call.” Her voice rose in pitch with each word. She took a quick breath to relax her vocal chords. Low and melodious. “Thank you.”
“That would be fine, Laurie. I’ll look forward to it. Bye-bye, now.” A click sounded on the line.
Laurie pressed her knuckles to her forehead. Mrs. Creswell had hung up. She must have forgotten her call to Mrs. Johnson of Fir Creek. Should I ring her back?
The odor of Mr. Quinn’
s hair tonic nearly choked her. “Is there a problem, Miss Burke?”
She lowered the cord back to the desk. “No, sir.”
“We are not to be carrying on private conversations from the switchboard. Do I need to remind you of that?” His nasal tone grated at her nerves.
“No, sir.”
“Very well.” He backed off a few paces, but his presence lingered.
One of the other girls had already picked up her other call. Laurie hesitated. She hated to ring Mrs. Creswell with Mr. Quinn on the alert, but she had little choice. She switched the cords and rang the Creswell line.
“Yes . . . hello?” Mrs. Creswell’s quavering voice crackled in Laurie’s ear.
“I’m standing by to connect you to Mrs. Johnson. Would you still like to complete that call?”
The old woman gasped, the sound hissing in Laurie’s earpiece. “Oh, my—I completely forgot. Yes, please, dear. I was also thinking—”
“I will connect your call now. Thank you.” Laurie jammed the cord in the jack. Hopefully Mrs. Creswell would just think she hadn’t heard.
Mr. Quinn eased away down the line of boards, honing in on another operator whose posture needed correction.
Susan, sitting at the next seat, tipped her head and winked at Laurie. “Mrs. Creswell?” she mouthed.
Laurie nodded and rolled her eyes before taking her next call. “Number, please.”
“Federal building, PA-2015, please.” A familiar baritone echoed in her ear, tickling the hairs on the back of her neck.
She took two quick breaths. “One moment, please.” Laurie scanned the board. She located the federal building’s connection and tapped the cord against the jack to test for an open line. A series of clicks sounded. Busy.
Laurie glanced down the row. Mr. Quinn leaned over a woman’s shoulder at the far end of the room. She checked the line a second time, now open. “I will connect you now. Thank you.”
“Thank you,” Samuel’s voice echoed.
Laurie made the connection to the switchboard at the federal building. Her hand hesitated over the switch that would disconnect her earpiece from the conversation. She glanced at the operator sitting to her left. “Susan,” she whispered, “I’m going to run a systems check. Can you cover my calls?”
Mistaken Page 8
