Daniel frowned. “From your mom’s illness? But that was ages ago.”
Johnny ran his hand over his chin. “Yes. But he stopped paying years ago. He drank every paycheck.”
Daniel whistled. “So, what did you do?”
“I contacted the bank.” Johnny’s knuckles whitened around the coffee cup. “They were getting ready to take the house.”
The pain thickened in Daniel’s chest.
“I don’t care about the old man, but this would kill Laurie. She tries so hard to pretend everything is normal. How would we explain losing the house?”
“You’ve been paying the bills yourself?”
“What other choice do I have?” Johnny shoved the last bite of donut into his mouth, talking through the crumbs. “I didn’t make enough at the mill to even pay the interest. So when the guys at work offered me this chance to make a few bucks—I leapt at it. I thought I could pay off the bills and maybe set some aside for the future, without anyone being the wiser. No one would have to know—about my dad, about my mom—nothing.”
Daniel ran a finger around the cup’s rim. He knew a few things about hiding the truth.
A tentative smile grew on Johnny’s face. “I’ve even got my dad paying part of the bills, now.”
“How did you manage that?” Daniel cocked a brow.
“Where do you think he’s buying the whiskey?”
Laurie sucked in her breath, her heart jumping to her throat.
Samuel leaned against a creamy-white Studebaker coupe outside the telephone exchange. He held his hat in one hand and a bouquet of lilies in the other. With his head tipped back, he appeared to be watching the clouds.
Anne-Marie sidled up beside her. “He’s so sweet, waiting for you like that.” She sighed. “I wish I had a handsome fellow to drive me home.”
A chill swept over Laurie. She couldn’t let Samuel take her home. She pushed through the door, the warmth of the summer day washing away the tension of work.
Samuel straightened and beamed in her direction. “There you are. I didn’t call this time.” He stretched his arms wide in a “ta-da” gesture. “I learn quickly. I hope I’m not making a pest of myself.”
Laurie’s spirits lifted. The man could be so sweet. “Not at all.”
“I know so few people in town, and all. It gets lonely.” He ducked his head, his smile turning sheepish. “Who am I kidding? I just can’t stop thinking about you.”
Her pulse accelerated. “I can’t imagine why, I’m not that memorable.”
He cupped his hand under her chin and lifted her gaze to meet his own. “How could you say that? The loveliest face in all of Port Angeles? Not to mention how you listen to all my boring stories without complaining.”
She laughed, but didn’t pull away. “Boring? Gangsters, hidden stills, and shootouts? If that’s boring, then I’m a monkey’s uncle.”
He lowered his hand, leaving her chin with a faint tingle. “Well, that would have to be one lovely monkey.” His brow furrowed. “No, I mean—okay, I don’t know how to turn that one into a compliment.”
“Don’t bother.” She laughed and glanced at his Studebaker. Even the mayor didn’t drive such a nice automobile. “So, where are we headed?”
He swept his hand through the air. “The world is our oyster, my dear. And you are the pearl. I would be honored to treat you to an evening on the town—dinner, dancing, or a show, perhaps? What would be your deepest desire?”
A shiver ran across her skin. Being in his presence muddled her thinking. “My father is working late tonight, so I do have the evening free.” She nestled her hand in the crook of his arm. “But the choices are pretty limited here. It’s nothing like Seattle, I’m afraid.”
His eyes lit up. “It so happens that I found a lovely place last night. Great music, dancing . . . ” He reached for the car’s door handle. “Unfortunately, when I showed up, everybody went home.”
A giggle rose in her chest. “I wonder why?” She stepped into the fine car, tucking her skirt under her knees.
His eyes retained their teasing glint. “I seem to have that effect on people.” He walked around to the other side.
She rested an elbow on the edge of the door. “I guess we can cross that place off our list.”
“Unless I can wrangle some sort of disguise. What do you think? A cowboy hat and boots?”
She narrowed her eyes and imagined Samuel in cowboy duds. Nice.
He reached a hand through his hair. “Maybe with some shoe polish and a dark mustache, I could be Charlie Chaplin.” He climbed into the driver’s seat, patting the spot beside him with a welcoming smile.
Laurie took the invitation, sliding closer to him. “It wouldn’t matter what you wore. You have a face that is not easily forgotten.”
The corner of his mouth rose. “Why, thank you—I think. Or are you still thinking along the lines of monkeys?”
She smiled and glanced at her feet again, allowing for a tiny shake of her head.
He put a hand on the steering wheel. “In that case, how about we leave the kind folks of Port Angeles to their clandestine activities for one evening? We could just grab some fish and chips and head for the spit. It’s a lovely evening for a picnic, and I’m dying to see the waters of the harbor reflected in those blue eyes of yours.” He settled his other arm around her shoulders.
Forgetting the charade momentarily, she risked a glance up at his smiling face, her heart leaping.
Daniel picked up the pestle and glanced at the compounding book lying open on the counter. It had been a while since he mixed digitalis. The words wavered on the page as he squinted at them with his one good eye. Maybe Laurie was right. He should be thinking about getting some glasses.
Or a monocle.
Granddad leaned over his shoulder. “Be careful with that one.”
“Would you like to do it?” Daniel set his jaw.
He pulled back. “No, of course not. I trust you.”
His grandfather’s words sent a jab through Daniel’s chest. Should he be trusted? He reached for the blue jar and tipped a small pile of the dried leaves onto the scale. Not much to fear when it came to these items, but he avoided the supply room when he worked by himself.
Even with one eye closed, he could sense the old man hovering near his shoulder. Irritation crept in and snaked around his growing headache.
His grandfather cleared his throat. “I hear that federal agent was in here yesterday. Was he meeting the Burke girl again?”
Daniel didn’t answer. He squinted at the tiny numbers on the scale.
Granddad clucked his tongue and moved away.
Daniel straightened and pushed his hand against his temple. The room drifted off-kilter for a moment before settling back into place. Maybe Johnny’s blow did more damage than he thought. He gripped the edge of the counter.
Daniel glanced at his granddad, mixing another prescription nearby. “Brown had the gall to suggest we might be running a speakeasy on the side.”
His grandfather huffed. “No one would believe him. That’s ludicrous.”
“I know, but I think he’s going to be a problem.”
“How so?”
Daniel returned the digitalis bottle to its place. “I’ve dealt with his type, in Seattle. I think he was fishing for a bribe.”
Granddad’s face remained neutral, but his hands stopped and hovered over the mixture. “Did you give him one?”
“Of course not.”
His grandfather reached for an empty jar. “Next time he comes by, go ahead and pay him.”
The room seemed to tip again as Daniel processed his grandfather’s words. “You’re joking.”
Granddad removed his glasses and wiped them. “Let’s just get him off our backs.”
A wave of heat climbed up under Daniel’s collar. “We haven’t done anything wrong. He has no business demanding anything from us. Let him search the place if he wants.”
“I don’t want some crooked agent pa
wing through our merchandise and our files. He’ll find what he wants to find, and we’ll have a devil of a time proving our innocence.”
Daniel released his grip on the counter. “I’m not giving that crook anything. If you want to pay him off, you’ll have to do it yourself.”
His grandfather remained silent, measuring white powder into the jar.
“We don’t have anything to hide—right?”
His grandfather’s face hardened. “I’m just trying to protect the business. It’s your future I’m concerned about.”
Daniel pushed his fingers against his eyes again. “I’m sorry, Granddad. I’m not feeling like myself today.”
“It’s little wonder. Why don’t you take the rest of the day off? Marcie should be here any minute. We can handle things fine.”
The digitalis waited on the scale. The numbers swam in front of Daniel’s eyes. He closed his eye and the motion stilled. “I think I’ll take you up on that. You mind finishing this one?”
“Sure. Go on, get some rest.”
Retrieving his hat, Daniel dragged himself through the front door of the shop, heading for the narrow stairwell that led to his upstairs apartment. A laugh from down the street caught his attention. A light-colored Studebaker with an ornate grill breezed past. Samuel Brown sat behind the wheel, one arm draped lazily out the window. Laurie sat beside him, a graceful hand holding her blue hat in place as she smiled at him.
Daniel turned and plodded up the stairs, Johnny’s story pulling at his feet like a lead weight.
23
The lighthouse stood like a sentry, guarding the entrance to the harbor. Laurie sank her teeth into the last chunk of fish, dabbing at the grease dribbling from her chin. The wind lifted her hair, blowing it back from her face.
Samuel leaned back against the upholstered seat, stretching his arms upward. “That was amazing. I haven’t had fish that good in years.” He turned in the seat, his gaze traveling over Laurie. “You are being very quiet.”
She stared out at the water, mesmerized. “The water is so rhythmic. I always find myself drifting away when I watch it.”
“Drifting where?”
“Nowhere. Everywhere.”
He reached for her hand. “How can I bring you back here?”
His touch sent a shiver up her skin. She drew her hand away. “I think you just did.”
“So, have you thought about our conversation the other day?”
She rubbed a finger along the side seam of her dress. As if I could think about anything else. “Yes, but I don’t know that I have anything new to tell you.”
He slid his hand up and down along the white leather seat, mere inches from her leg. “I’ve been wondering about some of the men at the mill where your father works.”
Her throat tightened. “My father doesn’t talk about work much. And he doesn’t usually spend time with them after hours.”
Samuel tipped his head, tapping his left hand on the steering wheel. “He doesn’t go play cards with the boys or anything?”
“What are you implying?”
“Nothing unseemly. I just thought maybe he would have an idea of who is behind the bootlegging. I could come by and talk to him—”
“No.” Laurie twisted in her seat to face Samuel. “You don’t need to do that.” She slowed her breathing, forcing her knees to stop bouncing. “It would be better if I spoke to him about it.”
Samuel lifted his fingers from the seat and placed them on top of her hand. “If you think it’s best.”
She laced her fingers between his and maneuvered their hands to a safer location away from her knee. “I—I do. He’s very private.”
He rubbed a finger along her palm, sliding a few inches closer. “Does that trait run in your family?”
“I suppose.” His presence sent jolts of current across her skin. She shifted in her seat. “Tell me more about your evening. Did you see any likely suspects?”
He leaned back, creating a bubble of comfortable space between them. “Pretty typical stuff. Men playing cards, couples dancing, women serving drinks and food.”
“Drinks? Like hard liquor?”
“Those disappeared quickly after I arrived. Probably replaced by soft drinks and water.”
Laurie smiled as she imagined the frantic rearranging that must have taken place.
“I think I saw your brother there.”
His words were like a bucket of cold water. She opened her mouth and closed it again. “Johnny?” She retrieved her calm operator voice. “He sometimes likes to play cards, I suppose.”
A tiny twitch in Samuel’s forehead made her stomach churn. She’d revealed part of her hand.
“I only saw him briefly. He slipped out the back as soon as he spotted me.” Samuel lifted her hand and placed it on his leg, as if to draw her closer.
Sweat broke out on her skin.
“He didn’t seem to care for me when I met him that first time. Do you think he’d approve of us sitting here like this?” He ran his other hand up her arm.
Her thoughts raced. “No, I’m certain he wouldn’t approve.” She lifted her chin and forced herself not to pull away. “But that’s his problem.”
“Glad to hear it.” His hand continued up her arm until it reached her shoulder. He leaned close and nuzzled his nose along the side of her face. “You hair smells wonderful. Lavender.”
She held her breath. As his hand traveled up her neck and snaked into her hair, it felt like a real snake coiled in her belly. When his lips touched her ear, she jerked back, feeling his hand pull through the strands of her hair. “Samuel, don’t.”
A grim shadow flashed in his eyes. He released his grip, retreating to his own side of the seat.
She shivered with the tension of the moment, awaiting his angry outburst. “I’m sorry, it’s just—”
He held up his hand. “Don’t apologize, please.” He sat in silence for a long moment, his gaze fixed on the reddening sky.
She scooted closer and touched his arm with her fingertips. “Samuel . . . ”
“I’ll take you home.”
An oppressive silence and chill loomed in the automobile as they approached her house. He opened her door, his green eyes glittering with some unspoken emotion that she couldn’t decipher. She stopped him from following her to the door by placing a hand on his chest. “Let’s say good-night here.”
“If that’s what you want.” Samuel placed a hand over hers, pressing it to his chest.
Her mouth grew dry as she focused on the sensation of warmth radiating through his shirt, her feet suddenly unwilling to move.
Samuel locked his other hand behind her waist and hauled her close. Lowering his face, he pressed his lips to hers, a lingering kiss. His hand caressed the curve of her back. “That’s all I wanted,” he whispered.
She kept her eyes closed until his arm released her. She stepped back, her chest aching from holding her breath, her lips tingling.
“Can I see you again tomorrow?”
A moment passed before she trusted her voice. “Let’s make it Saturday.”
He smiled, touching a finger to the brim of his fedora. “Saturday, then. I’ll be counting the days.”
Laurie walked up the steps on rubbery knees, clinging to the doorpost for stability until Samuel got back into his automobile and drove away, a cloud of dust rising in the dim light. Her body trembled, whether from fear or attraction, she wasn’t certain. Laurie reached for the screen door, eager to collapse on her bed and hide under the covers.
“Have a nice evening?” The voice floated from shadows lingering in the far corner of the porch.
24
Her stomach lurched as Johnny rose from the high-backed chair at the far end of the long porch and sauntered toward her.
“Well?” His voice thickened. “Did you have a good time?”
Her fingers fell from the doorknob. How much had he seen? “Yes.”
He grabbed her wrist. “I thought I told you to stay aw
ay from him.”
Her heart jumped. “What was I supposed to say when I found him waiting outside the exchange? ‘I’m sorry but my brother, the rumrunner, doesn’t allow me to date G-men?’ ”
His stormy eyes bulged, like a bull on a rampage. “I don’t care what you tell him, but I won’t have you seeing him. And certainly not—” His lip curled away from his teeth. “You were kissing him. It took everything I had not to march down there and tear his head from his shoulders.” His fingers dug into her wrist.
“I’ve kissed other men and you haven’t gone after them.” Laurie lifted her chin. “Now that I find a decent man, you’re just scared for your own hide.”
He shoved her back against the porch rail. The rotted wood cracked under her weight and for a dizzying moment Laurie teetered, but Johnny’s hand yanked her back.
“Blast it, Laurie. Why do you have to keep pushing? Why won’t you listen to reason? I’m trying to keep you safe, but you just blow right through and do whatever comes into your head.”
A geyser sprang up inside her, pushing its way from deep within. “You’re trying to keep me safe? That’s comical—because as I see it, you’re the one hurting me.” She lifted her reddened wrist in front of his face. “All because I’m trying to keep you safe.”
He released her, pushing her toward the door. He raised a finger and jabbed it toward her face. “I’m doing this for you.” His face had turned purple in the dim light. “You stay away from Brown.”
“I’m not a child and you’re not my father.”
“I wish I were—you’d be a lot better off.”
“I’m not so sure about that,” she snapped. The evening air grew hushed and still, with even the crickets falling silent.
Johnny pushed his hand up through his hair. “If I ever catch him touching my little sister like that again”—He dropped his hand and glared at her—“I’ll kill him.”
She forced herself to breathe slowly as she rubbed her bruised wrist. There was no point in throwing more gasoline on the flames. “He’s not like that. He treats me with respect.”
Mistaken Page 14
