The Coast Guard vessel bobbed alongside Daniel’s boat, men with guns roaming the decks. One individual stood out from the others, the familiar gray fedora sending a shudder through Laurie’s body.
Tears stung her eyes as she stumbled down the spit and straight into the arms of two fishermen.
“Agent Brown, I think you ought to see this.” The deputy’s voice wafted up from the hatch.
Daniel lay still, his hand clamped against the oozing wound in his shoulder. Fingers of pain spread through his arms and chest until even drawing a full breath became a challenge.
A calculating smile spread across Brown’s face as the uniformed man began hoisting crates onto the deck. “Not a rumrunner, eh? I suppose you’re going to claim that those bottles don’t belong to you. Maybe they just found their way into your hold by accident.”
Daniel gripped his shoulder, laying his head on the wet boards. What will this do to Laurie?
“Talk to me, Shepherd. Who’s the brains of this operation, because it obviously isn’t you?” Samuel chuckled as he crouched down beside him. “My colleagues at Freshwater Cove said the boat there came in clean. What do you know about that? Are you working with those hooligans?”
“No.” Daniel’s thoughts jumbled, images of his grandfather, Laurie, and Johnny swimming in the foggy haze of his mind. He struggled up to a sitting position, wiping the sweat from his face with his forearm. “No, I work alone. I’ve been bringing whiskey into Port Angeles for months—ever since I arrived here. I’m the one you want.”
Brown raised his gun, pointing it at Daniel’s face. “And that’s exactly what I had hoped you would say.”
Laurie huddled in a blanket, in front of Amelia’s fireplace. “I don’t understand it. Why would they arrest Daniel? We threw the liquor overboard.”
Amelia poured a second steaming mug of tea and forced it into Laurie’s hand.
Johnny shook his head. “Mr. Simon from the grocery store said Brown found cases of liquor on board. He saw them unloading the crates onto the dock.”
“I’m telling you—we threw them over the side.” Laurie shivered, tea sloshing onto her fingertips.
Johnny sat down in the rocking chair, kicking his lanky legs out in front of him. “It couldn’t have been our stuff, anyhow. We always dump the boxes—we wrap the bottles in newspaper and stick them in bags.”
Amelia stood over her friend and gestured to Laurie’s cup. “Drink!” She turned to Johnny. “Could Daniel be running booze, too?”
“No way.” Johnny bounced his knee, the corners of his mouth pulling toward his chin. “But . . . ” He chewed on his lower lip. “The boat belongs to his grandfather.”
Laurie stopped mid-sip, the hot liquid scalding down her tongue as his words took hold. “Mr. Larson? Do you think they could be his?”
“I suppose, but it doesn’t seem likely.” Johnny situated another log on the fire. “Likely or no, it sounds like Daniel is in a boat-load of trouble.”
The cot squeaked as Daniel collapsed across it, his shoulder bandaged and throbbing. The day dragged at him like an anchor. Sitting in jail was the least of his troubles. He laid his head back and covered his face with his good arm, trying not to think about Laurie.
Brown stood outside the bars as the metal door slid shut. He hooked his thumbs in the pockets of his pinstriped trousers. “Won’t Laurie Burke be pleased? She saved her brother and freed herself of a villainous wretch, all in one fell swoop. I guess maybe she is worthy of my affections after all.”
Daniel mentally recited the periodic table to keep himself from rising to Brown’s taunts, but he doubted the chemical reaction churning in his gut would be contained for long.
“In fact, I think I’ll go over and see her. Rumor has it she took an early swim in the harbor this morning. Seems like an odd choice of activities. Maybe I’ll ask her about it over dinner.”
Daniel tried to struggle upright but slumped back against the bed, his stomach threatening to turn against him as well. He dug his fingers into the thin mattress. He hadn’t stepped in Brown’s trap; he’d jumped in with both feet. “Leave her out of this. I told you, I work alone. I’m the one you want.”
Brown laughed, the sound echoing through the cellblock. “Oh, Daniel, that’s rich. Haven’t you figured it out yet?” He lowered his voice until it seemed to float like a dark fog through the room. “She’s the one I want.”
Laurie tucked the ends of her hair under her cloche as she followed Johnny into the drugstore. Her heart pounded so loud, it threatened to draw the attention of the customers. Marcie buzzed around the soda fountain likely filling orders for both drinks and gossip.
Laurie scanned the store for Mr. Larson. She caught Marcie scampering between the coffeepot and the icebox. “Where is Mr. Larson? We need to speak to him.”
Marcie looked up, eyes red and teary. “Oh, Laurie. I wish I knew. I have no idea what’s going on. And what I do know, I don’t understand.”
Laurie touched her brother’s arm. “Maybe he’s gone to see Daniel.”
Johnny’s brows furrowed. “Maybe he’s skipped town.”
Laurie pulled off her hat and darted a quick glance at Marcie. The girl balanced a soda in each hand, hurrying to the far end of the marble counter.
Laurie leaned close to her brother’s ear. “Follow me.”
She ducked behind the pharmacy counter and through the back storeroom, Johnny on her heels. Laurie tiptoed partway down the stairs to the cellar, her heart sinking at the inky blackness. “He’s not here.”
Johnny gripped the stair rail. “Let’s try Daniel’s apartment.” He continued out the back door into the alley, climbing the steps to the upper-story apartments.
Laurie rushed after him, stopping on the landing. The door to Daniel’s apartment stood ajar.
Mr. Larson glanced up from Daniel’s sofa. Craggy lines crossed his face, his hair sticking out from under his cap, rumpled and spiky. “Thank God, it’s you, Laurie. You’ve got to tell me what’s happening. Marty—Sheriff Martinson—says that Daniel’s been arrested.” The old man pressed his hand to his forehead as he spoke. “He said the boat was full of booze and Daniel attacked the federal agent. Do you know anything about this?”
Laurie swallowed against the lump growing in her throat. “I was on the boat with him, Mr. Larson. He wasn’t hauling whiskey—” She caught herself, casting an anxious glance at Johnny. “Well, it’s a long story. But he didn’t know about those crates, I’m sure of it.” She shoved her hands deep in her coat pockets. “Mr. Larson, you need to tell me the truth—are you running liquor?”
His jaw dropped. “You can’t be serious. I haven’t taken that boat out in over a year. The only time it’s been out was when Daniel and Johnny went fishing a few months back.” He glared at Johnny. “I could be asking you the same question, young man. I heard some interesting rumors about you this morning, too. And I know you’re the one who blackened my grandson’s eye.”
A ripple of surprise shot through Laurie.
Johnny held up his hands. “I didn’t put the whiskey on that boat.” He pulled off his cap and ran his hand through his hair. “Well, like Laurie said, not that whiskey.”
Mr. Larson’s mouth pinched. “I think you two had better start at the beginning.”
The three of them moved to Daniel’s table by the front window and Laurie and Johnny filled Mr. Larson in on the night’s activities. As they came to a close, Daniel’s grandfather stroked his gray moustache in stunned silence.
Laurie sat on her hands to keep herself from picking at her fingernails. “So, you can see why we thought the whiskey might be yours.”
Mr. Larson shook his head, a ragged sigh escaping his lips. “If it wasn’t mine and it wasn’t Daniel’s—who in blazes put it there?”
Laurie paced to the window, staring out across the downtown streets and to the water beyond. “And why was Samuel on the Coast Guard ship instead of waiting at Freshwater Bay like he’d planned?”
<
br /> Johnny sat up. “When we rowed up to the beach, Jerry said something about Brown having bigger fish to fry.”
Laurie turned and faced him, a tremor running through her heart. “Bigger fish—like Daniel?”
Laurie perched on the wooden chair, staring across Sherriff Martinson’s large desk.
“Miles, your grandson is a fool.” Sheriff Martinson leaned back in his swivel chair, kicking one foot up on his desk.
Mr. Larson paced the floor, running his hand across his whiskery chin. “It’s a misunderstanding. He must have thought the booze was mine, Marty. He’s not involved.”
“I’m sorry, but that just isn’t good enough. The first time I sympathized. Twice?” Martinson shook his head.
Laurie clutched her pocketbook. “Samuel Brown arranged this in some way. He’s been aiming for Daniel since the beginning. I wouldn’t put it past him to plant that whiskey as a way of framing him.”
Martinson frowned. “Those are pretty big accusations, Miss Burke.”
Daniel’s grandfather laid his hands on the table, palms up. “Marty, you know I wouldn’t waste your time if we weren’t serious.”
“Miles, I’d like to help you—that Brown is a cad. But Daniel signed a written confession. My hands are tied.”
Laurie shifted in her chair. “What would it take to untie them?”
Martinson’s brows arched. “I don’t work that way.”
“No, I don’t mean . . . ” She shook her head. “I mean, what if Brown confessed to planting the evidence?”
“Well, obviously, that would change things. But that hardly seems likely, does it?”
A rush of cold swept over Laurie, almost as if she had plunged back into the icy water of the Strait. Could she finagle a confession from Samuel?
She clamped her fingers on the edge of the desk and stood. “If that’s what it will take—I will get it.”
51
The late afternoon sun glinted through Samuel Brown’s office window, spilling across his littered desk. Laurie clutched her pocketbook, forcing her hands to remain still. “I can’t believe this. Daniel really is a rumrunner?”
Samuel leaned back in his seat, balancing on its two spindly wooden legs. Shirtsleeves rolled up to the elbows and vest hanging unbuttoned, the agent twisted a fountain pen between his fingers. “It’s my duty to get reprobates like Shepherd off the street. I’m just sorry you had to get mixed up with him. I tried to warn you.”
The handgun resting on the desk turned Laurie’s stomach. In the hours since Daniel’s arrest, she’d heard stories of Daniel’s so-called attack on Brown and how the agent had subdued him. She sidled closer, laying her pocketbook next to the weapon. Laurie hooked a finger through her long jet bead necklace and twisted it. “So, you suspected Daniel all along. This never was about Johnny, was it?”
Samuel set his chair down on all four legs and stood. He gathered the stacks of papers on his desk and shuffled them into a folder. “With the information I gathered from the pharmacy records, and the convenient capture of his cargo, we’ll see him behind bars for quite some time.”
Laurie took off her cloche hat and placed it next to her pocketbook. “What about the rumrunners at Freshwater Bay?”
He laughed, a deep mocking sound. “Small-timers. I knew a handful of them. I figured you’d be appreciative if we let them off the hook.” The corner of his mouth lifted.
Her skin crawled. Some of the men were on the take—maybe even Big Jerry, himself. She forced a smile. “You’ve no idea how grateful I am.” She stripped off her gloves and dropped them next to the other items.
Daniel had said that cash was one language Samuel Brown understood. Fortunately, she spoke the other language fluently. Laurie perched on the corner of the desk, crossing her knees.
Samuel took the bait, dropping the folder into a packing crate and stepping closer, his leg brushing up against hers. The corners of his lips inched upward. “That’s my girl.”
Laurie pressed a palm against her stomach to quell its flutters. “I owe you a lot, Samuel. You protected both my brother . . . ”—she stretched out her hand and fingered the silver buttons on his vest—“ . . . And me. It looks like I misjudged you.” She tipped her head to the side and looked up from under her lashes. “I had no idea Daniel was a common criminal.”
He captured her hand and twined his fingers with hers. “I told you the kind of man he was.”
Heart pounding, Laurie lowered her voice, summoning the sugary-sweet voice she used at work. “You said he was a drunkard. And that he assaulted some poor woman in Seattle. It all sounded like so long ago. But rumrunning—right here under our noses?”
“You should be glad that I saved you from him. Men like that don’t change overnight—no matter what kind of story he told you.” He smiled, as if their last altercation was forgotten.
“But Mr. Larson’s boat rarely leaves the dock.” She leaned forward, tightening her grip on Samuel’s hand. “It’s never really been to Canada, has it?”
Furrows appeared in his brow, but he inched closer, wrapping his hand around her back. “I don’t give away my secrets that easily, no matter what kind of games you’re playing.”
She sighed and released his hand. “That’s too bad. I thought maybe I could help you with more of your busts. I love the excitement.” She glanced up at him and shrugged. “I imagine with my connections at the exchange, I could probably locate every still and speakeasy in the county. People talk, you know.” Laurie pushed away his hand, walking across the room to stand behind his empty desk chair. Placing her hands on its high back, she gazed at him, breathing a silent prayer. “But since you don’t trust me—what’s the use?”
Samuel cocked his head and reached down to button his vest. “You’d do that?”
“I want to clean up this town. For my father’s sake.” She sat down in Samuel’s chair. “I didn’t have much confidence in your abilities before. I had no idea the lengths to which you would go to get your man.”
His lips turned upward. “Or my woman.”
Laurie’s throat tightened. “But I want to know how you got Daniel to confess. How’d you get the booze on his boat?”
Samuel sat directly in front of her, on the edge of the desk, one foot propped on her seat. “Someone has to look out for women like you, Laurie.”
Her heart pounding, Laurie reached a hand out to touch his leg. “So, where did you get the liquor?”
He smiled. “Simple enough. I just pulled in a favor from my boss from Seattle.”
She frowned. “Your boss with the Treasury Department?”
“Well, he’s pretty useless, actually.” Samuel chuckled. “I’m talking about someone else, Sunshine.” He lifted his chin, puffing out his chest. “Your brother’s bootlegging connections are small-time thugs. I’m connected with one of the biggest rumrunners in the Northwest—a former police officer from Seattle.”
A wave of confusion descended on Laurie. Her mouth grew dry as her façade dropped away. She yanked her hand back. “You—you work for a rumrunner? But, you’re—”
“Don’t be so naive, Laurie. Government men make squat.” Samuel chuckled. He took her hands, pulling until she rose to her feet and closed the space between them. “There’s much more cash on the other side of the fence. Besides, this way, I get the best of both worlds.”
“But you arrest rumrunners.”
“Small-time players, troublesome middle-men, ones who refuse to play by our rules. I know which side my bread is buttered on.” He placed both hands behind the small of her back
A noise at the door made Samuel turn.
Sheriff Martinson loomed in the doorway. “Apparently your bread is buttered on both sides, Brown.”
“Sheriff”—Samuel’s face flushed—“Let me explain—”
“I think I’ve heard enough.” The sheriff stepped into the room, flanked by Johnny and several deputies.
Samuel’s attention darted from the sheriff to the gun lying on the
desk.
Laurie twisted in his grasp, thrusting her pocketbook across the desk and knocking the gun to the floor.
Johnny lunged forward, scooped it up, and pointed it at Samuel. “Get out of there, Laurie,” he ordered.
Samuel kept his arm firm on her waist. “This is all a misunderstanding, Sheriff—a story to impress the lady. You know me.”
“Yeah, I do. That’s the problem.” Martinson waved the barrel of his gun. “Let her go.”
Samuel eyed her as he removed his hands. “You planned this.” His lip curled back from his teeth.
Laurie lifted her chin. “Thanks for your help. Now that we know who the real criminals are, maybe we can clean up this town.”
52
Daniel lay on the narrow cot, staring at the ceiling. In his mind he saw the ferric acid solution cascading down the side of the show globe, piercing the layers of beautiful color, and poisoning everything in its path.
He’d been a fool for believing he could start a new life, free from scandal. He deserved this disgrace, but he should have borne it alone.
A rattle at the door piqued his curiosity and Daniel turned his head to see who had entered the cellblock.
Laurie walked down the aisle between the cells, a guard at her back.
He struggled up to a seated position. “Laurie, you shouldn’t be here.”
“I know,” she smiled as she approached the bars. Her face creased as she gazed at the bandages binding his shoulder and arm. She turned her eyes back to his face. “I’d hate to ruin my reputation.
Pushing away the pain, Daniel struggled to his feet, stomach lurching in protest. He walked a few paces and leaned against the bars separating them. “I can explain.”
“Samuel’s done all the explaining for you.”
His stomach twisted. “I’m sure he has.”
Mistaken Page 28
