Speak Easy

by Melanie Harlow

  She took a deep breath and nodded. “Tell me what to do.”

  “Pack a bag for you and Mary Grace. We’re going to Bridget’s, where you’re going to help me convince her to take you girls and the boys away for a few days—just until I get word to you that it’s safe to return. Daddy should be back by the end of the weekend,” I said, praying that was true. I couldn’t keep this up much longer. “If he isn’t, I’ll go to the police.”

  “OK,” she said. “Give me five minutes.”

  I hugged her again. “This wasn’t what you meant when you agreed to take on more responsibility, huh?”

  She choked out a laugh against my shoulder. “Not exactly.”

  #

  We walked down to Bridget’s as the sun began to set. Neither of us spoke. Molly was probably in shock, and I was busy trying to think of a way to convince Bridget to take the kids out of town without telling her the whole truth. After what happened to Vince, I didn’t want her to panic and do something rash, like call the cops. I’ll give her the money from Enzo and tell her what I told Molly. That should be enough.

  The store was closed when we arrived at the back door, but I had my key. “Let’s hope she listens to me,” I whispered to Molly as we took the stairs up to Bridget’s apartment. “I may need your help.”

  When we walked in, the kitchen was empty and the dinner dishes were left on the table, which was odd. Bridget always did the dishes right after supper because she can’t stand a messy kitchen. My uneasy feeling intensified when we entered the front room. The kids were playing on the floor, and Bridget sat stiffly on the edge of the sofa, her face drained of color, her hands around her rosary.

  “Hello,” I said. She looked at me blankly, almost as if she didn’t recognize me. Molly and I exchanged nervous glances. “Molly, why don’t you play with the kids a minute? I want to talk to Bridget.”

  “Sure.” Molly dropped to her knees next to the kids, who were running tiny fire engines and trucks over the floor and table.

  “Yes.” Bridget’s voice sounded strange to me. “We need to talk.” She stood and picked up a glass from the side table, which looked to me as if it contained whisky. That was even stranger, because Bridget rarely touched the stuff. She emptied it into her mouth and set the glass down again. “Come with me.”

  Swallowing hard, I followed her into her bedroom and watched as she locked the door. “What’s going on, Bridget?”

  Without answering, she went to her bed and pulled a package from underneath the mattress. It was a large, lumpy brown envelope.

  “What is that?”

  “Someone dropped it off for you.” Her voice shook. “He said it was from Joey.”

  My blood roared violently through my veins. “That’s the package from Joey?”

  She nodded. “I opened it.”

  “You what?” I moved toward her and grabbed it. It was much heavier than I expected. “Why did you do that?”

  Anger flashed in her eyes, a spark of the real Bridget. She grabbed it back from me and dumped the contents on the bed.

  “Oh, shit.”

  A huge mound of cash fell out.

  Along with a shiny black pistol.

  Chapter Fifteen

  “Nothing to say?” Bridget hissed.

  “I’m—I’m thinking.” But I couldn’t think. My mind whirled as I stared at the money and gun. This was the package from Joey? So who the hell gave me the necklace? And why? I sank onto the bed and picked up the pistol.

  “Tiny, put that down!” Bridget knocked my wrist and the weapon fell back onto the spread. “You want to kill yourself? Or me?”

  I stared at it. “Is it loaded?”

  “How should I know? The question is, why would Joey leave it for you? And what is all this money for?”

  “Give me a second.” Putting my fingers to my forehead, I closed my eyes and racked my brain. But no amount of sifting through the events of the past week gave me any indication of who would gift me with that necklace. What is going on?

  My sister’s voice cut through the confusion. “Tiny, you better tell me what this is or I’m taking all this to the police right now.”

  “No, don’t!” I jumped to my feet and clutched her shoulders, clarity returning with a slap. I have to get them out of here. “All right, listen to me. Daddy’s in trouble.”

  Her brow furrowed. “What kind of trouble?”

  I hesitated—how should I put this? “He owes money to some…men who don’t take kindly to being owed.”

  “What men?”

  I shook my head. “Doesn’t matter. The important thing is that Joey helped me get the money together and we’re going to deliver it as soon as possible.” No need to tell her Joey had gone to Chicago with a load of stolen rum and opium.

  “Where is Joey? Where the hell is Daddy, for that matter?” She knocked my hands from her shoulders. “Have you been lying to me this whole time about where he is? And why would Joey think you need a gun?”

  “Bridget, please.” I grabbed her by one hand and tugged. “I’m sorry I lied. I thought I was doing the right thing by protecting you, but I haven’t done a very good job.” My eyes filled and I took a shaky breath. “Now you have to do what I say, please. Take Molly, Mary Grace, and the boys and get out of town for a few days. Go see your friend Helen in East Jordan, or take the kids to the beach and stay in a hotel. Use this.” I pulled Enzo’s hundreds from my skirt pocket and gave them to her.

  Her eyes widened as she stared at the cash. “What on earth…” She looked at me. “Where are you guys getting all this money?”

  “Just take it and go. You’re not safe here right now. They’ve made threats…to the store.”

  She began to cry. “But this is my home, my store. I can’t just leave.”

  “You can, and you must.” I went to her closet, pulled down a battered suitcase from the shelf and opened it on the bed. “Martin and I will take care of things here. Call me when you’re settled somewhere and stay there until you hear from me. It’ll only take a couple days.” I gathered up the cash and gun from Joey, shoving it back inside the package. There were a ton of bills, and I wondered if somehow Joey had gotten me all five grand.

  Bridget stared at the money in her fingers and then looked at me with wet cheeks. “Maybe,” she began slowly, “I should call Vince’s family. They might be able to—”

  “No! Trust me—we don’t need any more gangsters involved in this.” I laced my fingers together. “Please, I beg you. You’ll only make things worse for Daddy and me if you try to get involved. The kids need you to keep them safe.” I didn’t want to tell her about the explosives, but I would if I had to.

  She chewed on her lower lip. “Does Molly know?”

  I nodded. “As much as you do. She can help you with the kids.” A breeze blew in the open window, and I realized how sweaty I was. My cotton blouse was sticking to me. I need a bath. I need a drink. I need a new life. “Please, Bridget. Say you’ll go.”

  She stared out the window a moment as the bells from nearby St. Ambrose tolled seven times. “All right. We’ll go.”

  Chills of relief swept across my skin with the breeze. When I drew in a deep breath, I could’ve sworn I smelled my mother’s lilac scent, as if she were in the room. I closed my eyes. Thank you, Mama. “I can drive you to the station in your car if you want.”

  She blinked. “Do we have to leave tonight?”

  “Yes. You do.”

  Understanding flitted across her face. “Help me, then. Get the boys’ suitcase from their closet and throw some things into it. Underwear, socks, anything clean you can find.” She began opening drawers, pulling out underclothes and stockings, and tossing them into her suitcase.

  I was on my way out of her room when she spoke again. “Three days, Tiny. That’s what you have. Until Sunday. After that, I go to the police.”

  “Deal.” It would all be over in two days, anyhow—one way or another.

  #

  By eight o�
��clock, we’d loaded the car and hugged goodbye. The kids were sad I couldn’t join them at the beach, but Bridget covered brilliantly, saying Martin would need me at the store in her absence. She turned down my offer to drive them to the station, and I watched her car chug down the alley and turn right, then lifted my eyes to the sky in gratitude.

  Walking home on tired feet, carrying the envelope from Joey in both hands, I returned to the puzzling question of who had given me that necklace. The boy who delivered it had used my name, so I knew it wasn’t a case of mistaken identity, but why on earth would someone give me such an expensive piece of jewelry? I didn’t know anyone with that kind of money except Enzo, and he’d have mentioned it this afternoon. And why would he shower me with diamonds anyway? It’s not as if I was his girlfriend. Plus, he’d been so furious with me.

  Letting myself in the front door, I realized there was another mystery—who’d pulled the raid alarm at Club 23, and why? Maybe the River Gang had done it somehow, or paid someone to do it, in order to keep the DiFiores occupied at the club. I locked the front door behind me and double-checked it was secure, wishing we had a deadbolt. Then I rushed up to my room and dumped the contents of Joey’s package on the bed next to the necklace. I ignored the gun momentarily while I gathered the cash and counted it.

  It was all there. Five grand.

  I counted it again. And again. Every time, the small bills, nothing larger than a twenty, added up to five thousand dollars. “Oh, Joey,” I sighed, scooping up armloads of cash and lifting them in the air. The money fluttered down to my white bedspread. “I adore you.” And at that moment, I really did. Dropping to my knees, elbows on the bed, I clasped my hands together. God, please let him be safe in Chicago. Don’t let the cops or the DiFiores catch him.

  I crossed myself and stacked the bills, grateful I wouldn’t have to sell the necklace right away. I knew I’d have to do it eventually in order to pay Joey back, but as of this moment, I had enough money to get Daddy released without Ralph the Bookie’s help. I’d clean up, take a streetcar down to the club, and pay off Angel tonight.

  It’s almost over, I thought, my insides jittery with nerves and excitement. Daddy would be released, and my life would return to normal.

  I honestly believed that.

  #

  I put the cash back into the envelope and took it with me into the bathroom. I considered taking the gun too, but I didn’t know if it was loaded and had no idea how to use it anyway. Instead I’d shoved it into my underwear drawer. It looked so strange—black metal peeking through white cotton and lace.

  I bathed quickly, washing my hair with one eye on the money. When I was done, I wrapped myself in a towel and scooped up the envelope of cash from the sink. My hair dripped on my shoulders as I walked back to my room, which was dark. That’s strange. Had I turned off the light? I could’ve sworn I hadn’t. Suddenly the lamp across the room clicked on, and I gasped.

  Enzo leaned back against the dresser, arms crossed.

  I dropped the money and slapped a hand to my chest. “My God! You scared me half to death! How did you get in here?” My pulse drummed in my ears.

  “The door. I told you I was good with locks.”

  I tightened the towel around me, wishing I’d grabbed a bigger one. It barely came down over my butt, and if I inched it any lower, my breasts would peek over the top. No way could I bend down to pick up the cash at my feet. What the hell is he doing here? “For God’s sake, why don’t you just knock like a normal person? I’m not even dressed.”

  “I don’t mind.” Electricity crackled in the air between us. He wasn’t wearing his fedora or full three-piece suit anymore, just the trousers and a white shirt without a collar or tie. It was unbuttoned at the top, loose enough to see his collarbone. Something stirred inside me.

  Don’t even think about it. “What are you doing here anyway?”

  “I came to apologize.”

  “You did?” I’d never heard a man like him apologize, especially to a woman.

  “Yes. You might be right about Raymond. I haven’t been able to find him today.” He paused. “And I shouldn’t have been so rough with you earlier. I’m sorry about that.”

  “You should be.” My skin prickled, and a dozen questions formed in my mind. Was he being sincere? Had he made calls to Chicago? More immediately, was he going to leave so I could dress?

  Then I noticed the necklace dangling from one hand.

  He lifted it up. “Where did this come from?”

  I froze. “It was a gift.”

  “From who?”

  “From my father. For graduation.”

  He lifted one eyebrow. “A three thousand dollar Tiffany necklace for high school graduation?”

  My insides twisted uncomfortably. How did he know what the necklace was worth? “What do you want, Enzo? You made your apology. Fine, I accept. You want the rest of the ransom money? I’ve got it right here.” Carefully, I dipped at the knee and picked up the stack of bills, keeping the towel together with one hand. “I was planning on bringing it to the club as soon as I was dressed. In exchange, you’ll release my father. Tonight.” I tried to appear tough, but it was difficult in bare feet and wet hair.

  He answered my demand with a laugh.

  “What’s so funny?” My face burned.

  “You. Standing there in a towel, issuing orders to me after I catch you in a lie.”

  “What lie?”

  He nodded at the necklace. “I bought this for Gina almost a week ago, but I hadn’t given it to her yet. Then last night, probably during the raid that wasn’t really a raid, it disappeared from my apartment at the club, which had been broken into. Because of all the chaos over the hijacking, I didn’t notice it until this afternoon. And now it’s here, in your possession.”

  I stared at him. “You can’t think I stole it. I was with you the whole time.”

  “Maybe it was your little friend, Joe Lupo. I hear he works for Scarfone now. Where was he last night?”

  “He wasn’t at the club.”

  “Of course not. He was busy hijacking my shipment and shooting my men. Is he in Chicago too?”

  Get off the subject of Joey. My voice shook when I spoke. “Listen, I don’t know where that necklace came from. It was just handed to me at the store by some kid off the street today.”

  He gritted his teeth. “You said before it was a gift. There’s the lie.”

  Exasperated, I nearly threw my hands up until I remembered they were holding up the towel. “Well, I didn’t know what to say! How was I supposed to know it was yours? None of this makes any sense to me.” I shivered. “I’m just trying to get that ransom money, Enzo. I know nothing about anything else.”

  He came toward me, still holding the necklace. “I want to believe you, but I think you know more than you’re telling me.” Reaching behind me, he pushed my bedroom door shut, and I winced at the noise.

  Nervous, I sidestepped him and moved deeper into the room, remembering how he’d grabbed me earlier today. “Enzo, please. I didn’t steal the necklace. And I don’t know who did.”

  He backed me into the dresser and put his hands on my shoulders, but instead of getting rough, he turned me gently toward the mirror and draped the necklace around my neck. Our eyes met in the glass, and my breath caught as he fastened the clasp. Chills spilled down my arms when he brushed my wet hair aside and lowered his lips to the skin behind my ear.

  “Oh my God.” My room tilted and whirled like a carnival ride.

  “Sometimes I think,” he whispered, sweeping his lips down the curve of my neck, “that you were sent to me as punishment for the things I’ve done. For the things I’ve prayed for.” He put his hands on the dresser, one on either side of me.

  “What have you prayed for?” I barely got the words out. A cyclone of desire and fear swirled within me.

  He kissed my shoulder before answering. “When I was an altar boy back in Brooklyn, I used to bow my head when the priest said to pray, bu
t instead of thinking about the sick or the poor or the departed souls, I’d think about my father and other men like him, and ask God for the things they had—money, power, control.” With each word, he dropped a kiss across my shoulder blades, setting my back on fire. “And you know how they got it? By giving the people what they wanted. I knew what they did behind closed doors, the deals they made, the rivals they took out. But on the streets, they were adored—women holding up babies for them to kiss, men falling to their knees to beg for favors, children scrambling for nickels they’d hand out. It was pure adoration.” His teeth raked against my other shoulder, followed by the softness of his tongue. “And it meant complete control.”

  The movies make you want things, Tiny.

  Joey’s words echoed in my mind, although for Enzo it hadn’t been a movie that inspired want, but real life. And unlike Joey, Enzo wasn’t talking about wanting the cars or the clothes or the fancy apartment. He wanted the power.

  “And me?” I whispered. “Where do I fit in?”

  “I’ve come a long way since those days. I no longer pray for the things I want. I just do what it takes to get them.” His arms wrapped around me, one hand stretched taut over my stomach and the other capturing a breast. “Then I meet you, and that control begins slipping through my fingers.” He pulled me back against him, and I could feel the hard length of his erection through the thin towel. “I don’t like it.”

  The hell you don’t. I met his eyes in the mirror. “Your body feels differently.”

  His breath warmed my neck. “Yes.” He moved his hands over me, squeezing my breasts and hips.

  Don’t trust him, warned a voice in my head. But my nipples peaked under his touch, and my head lolled backward as he pulled me even tighter against him. The ransom money slipped from my fingers and hit the floor again. “This is all wrong,” I said, my voice as weak as my resolve.

  “Maybe.” He slid one hand down over my pelvic bone and reached under my towel with searching fingers. “Maybe not. I’ve been thinking today that we could help each other. We each have something the other wants.”