by Janet Leigh
“Howdy,” I said.
“Hi there,” she replied as she pulled downward on the length of towels extending from a machine on the wall and wiped her hands. A small smile crept at the corner of her mouth. “I saw you enter the casino with the sharp-dressed fella.”
“He's my guy,” I said. Before I could explain about Ace, the door burst open and a girl wearing a gingham scarf over her hair entered the bathroom. She rushed into one of the stalls, giving Bonnie a nod on the way.
“Whew! I had to haul three more crates into the joint. These people are drinking me dry,” she said from behind the closed stall door.
Bonnie laughed. “You better get used to it if you’re going to come with us. We always go where there's plenty of hooch.”
Bonnie was a cute girl, too young to be caught up in this awful life. She took a seat at the dressing table. Removing a small bag from her purse, she retrieved a compact and a tube of lipstick from inside. She opened the compact and began patting her face.
The girl in the stall huffed and hung the head scarf over the door of the stall. “Frank keeps this place too hot—I'm sweating like a pig at the county fair.”
I thought the air conditioning felt cooler than outside. Standing behind Bonnie’s chair, I pretended to fluff my hair in the mirror.
“You been workin’ hard is all,” Bonnie said to her, then focused her attention on the mirror and began to adjust the scarf around her neck. “I can’t ever get this scarf to lay right.” As she pulled the scarf free, I froze. My eyes glued to her reflection in the mirror. I couldn't force my limbs to continue the nonchalant grooming of my hair. In the shallow curve of her throat gleamed my brother Eli's key. Damn.
“You like it?” She asked.
I nodded.
“My guy got it for me.”
The blond girl exited the stall and washed her hands in the sink. She dried her hands and turned toward me. The cornflower blue of her simple cotton dress matched her eyes. Her blue eyes were my brother’s, and the key around her neck was mine. I swallowed hard. There was an awful lot of Eli standing in the room with me.
Elma eyed my bare throat and exhaled a long, slow breath. “Elma Cloud,” she said extending a hand to me.
It was her. My great-aunt Elma Jean Cloud. I held up my hands and stuck them under the sink faucet. “Sorry, I need to wash. I'm Jennifer Cl…Chlamydia.” It spilled out before I could correct myself.
Bonnie and Elma stared at me slack-jawed, glanced at each other, then back at me.
“Well,” Bonnie said, “I'm Bonnie Parker.” I nodded at both of them, drying my hands an extra-long time to avoid the contact Caiyan warned me about.
“Bonnie, you should cover up that necklace, don't want Clyde throwing it into the pot if he runs short again tonight,” Elma said as she pulled her butt-length snow blond hair in front of her shoulder and retrieved her scarf from the bathroom stall.
“Why, that was a misunderstanding earlier. I don't know why that blond god wanted my necklace, yours is just as pretty.”
“A blond god?” I asked.
“You should have seen him,” Bonnie said. “He was tall, had a mane of blond hair and blue eyes that made a girl’s lady parts tingle.”
I had experienced the tingle.
“He was trouble,” Elma said. “My guy told me so.”
“All the same, I would have gotten to see more if you’d been some patient.”
“He was trying to steal your necklace, nothin’ but a common thief if you ask me.”
Both girls giggled. “Elma shot him in the ass.”
“The sight on my wheel gun must be off—it wasn’t where I was aimin’.”
I wasn't sure what to tell Caiyan. I had kept Eli's secret from him. No one knew about Eli's key except Mamma Bea and me. The WTF knew he had the gift, but they didn't know he had a key. That was if he still had a key. Since he locked it up in the safe, it might have acquired a new destination. I had to figure this out before the moon cycle ended.
“I agree, men will take the baubles they gave us if it means winning at some stinking card game,” I added to the girl talk, hoping Bonnie would keep her key hidden.
“Sure as the rooster crows.” Elma bobbed her head. Elma adjusted the scarf around her neck, hiding the precious key, and Bonnie did the same.
“Not my Clyde, he bought me a camera. I loved it, but I left it behind when the laws caught up with us in Joplin.” She turned her attention toward Elma. “Where's your good-lookin' hunk of meat?”
Elma's face turned a light shade of pink. “He's moving my truck around to the lot. We had to unload the extra shine for Mr. Browning.”
I assumed Mitch was her hunk of meat.
“That’s some rock you got on your finger. How long you been engaged?” Bonnie asked me.
“Not long.” A couple of hours.
“What about the other man who came into the casino with you?” Bonnie asked me. “Tall, dark, and handsome that one. If I didn't have Clyde, I'd take a crack at him.”
“He's my fiancé's hired man.”
Both of their faces looked curious.
“My fiancé is into banks,” I said.
Bonnie's eyebrows raised as she swiped a rosy shade of lipstick across her lips. “Investing or managing?”
“Robbing,” I answered.
She startled, then a wry smile stretched across her rosy lips. She dropped the lipstick back into her bag and turned toward Elma.
“Elma, would you excuse us please?” she asked, and Elma shrugged. “Sure, I'm going to check out the horses. They keep a fine racehorse in the stable.” She turned and left.
“Have you heard of the Barrow gang?” Bonnie raised her skirt and pulled a flask from the garter around her leg. She unscrewed the cap and took a long pull, then offered it to me.
“Yes.” I took the flask and drank, cautiously adding, “We might be interested in working together.”
Bonnie stood and I handed her the flask. Her eyes gleamed in the dull light of the powder room. “Elma's new to our gang. Her man don't seem smart enough to pour piss out of a boot, and we're lookin' for more members. Come, let me introduce you to Clyde.” She interlocked her arm with mine and we strolled arm and arm into the illegal speakeasy together.
Chapter 19
Caiyan leaned against the far wall. His face didn't change expression when he saw me with Bonnie. An empty chair opened up next to Clyde Barrow. Ace took the initiative and moved toward the table. Ace was joining the game as Bonnie and I approached the group.
“Clyde, this here's Jennifer Chlamydia,” Bonnie said. The men’s eyes dropped to the level of my boy howdy.
Ace stood awkwardly and the other men followed as Bonnie made the introductions.
“Jen's my sweetie,” Ace said. “Where 'ave you been, babydoll?”
“Only to the powder room.” I moved closer to him, and he placed a quick peck on my cheek.
Caiyan rolled his eyes at me from across the room.
Bonnie glanced at Ace, leaned down, and whispered something in Clyde's ear. His eyes lit up and he took a long puff from the cigar in his mouth.
“Why don't you gals go outside and get some air?” Clyde asked.
Bonnie frowned at him, but a waiter walked past with a tray of drinks. She stopped him and took two glasses from the tray, motioning for me to follow. The dealer began laying out the cards for a game of blackjack, and Ace nodded at me.
We exited the secret staircase out into the night air. The warmth of the June evening felt good as we strolled toward the stables. A building to the right of the house was under construction.
“That's going to be an indoor swimming pool,” Bonnie pointed toward the structure. “Mr. Browning is having it built for the prizefighters to use for training. I heard he’s building a first-class facility to persuade the Livermore Larrupper to train here.”
I had no idea who the Livermore Larrupper was, but I gave her my I'm so amazed look anyhow.
“Mr. Browni
ng keeps the stud horse Royal Ford in his own specialized stable,” she said. “Let's take a look at him; he's a beauty.”
As we approached the square, brick building with Royal Ford’s name plated on the wall, Elma came charging out of the building.
“Keep your damn hands to yerself,” she shouted inside and slammed the door, making a beeline toward us.
“Elma, whatever is the matter?” Bonnie asked her.
“I'm done with men.” She wiped a tear from her face. “All they want is to make whoopee. I’m not some heifer waiting to be bred. I’ve got plans for my life.”
“The asshat,” I said.
Both women seemed startled by my words.
“What’s an asshat?” Elma asked.
“It’s like he’s wearing his ass as a hat.” They both still looked confused. “What I meant was, he’s a crumb.” I pulled the word from an old Dick Tracy movie. Both girls nodded in agreement.
“He’s a real twit, Elma.” Bonnie added.
“I thought he was different from the country boys back home.” Elma’s eye’s filled, and she ran off.
Bonnie looked at me. “She's young, not much experience with men. I've been married,” she paused. “In fact, still am.” She flashed her wedding ring at me. “Not to Clyde. To some other worthless man.” Bonnie let loose a deep sigh. “I'd better go check on her. You go on up to the stable and see Royal Ford. I’ll join you after I speak with Elma." She followed the direction Elma had fled.
I knew my mark was in the barn, and I also knew I shouldn't be caught in there with him alone. I walked around to the side of the barn and peered through a window. Mitch was fastening his pants. His muscular torso was naked from the waist up and the sweat on his skin glistened as the moonlight cast a glow through the window. What didn’t glisten was the missing key around his neck. What kind of grandfather would dump his gifted grandson in the past and leave him to find his way back? Certainly a challenge I could see Gian-Carlo imposing on one of his henchmen, but not on his grandson. A quest for a key. It was possible Mahlia would stop on the way home from Prague and pick him up.
As he buttoned his shirt, a large, gray racehorse poked its head out of the stall behind him. He reached up and caressed the horse’s muzzle. The stud’s nostrils flared, and he snorted when he saw me at the window. Mitch jerked his head in my direction. I quickly squatted under the window and duckwalked around the building. A difficult feat in my dress and heels. As I rounded the corner, I stood erect and bumped straight into Mitchell Mafuso's chest.
“Mitchell,” I guffawed.
“Uh, uh, uh,” he said wagging a finger at me. “It's Mitch, and don't blow my cover.”
“Are you kidding me? I'm after you.”
“Well you'll have to catch me first, and right now I've got bigger fish to fry, so move it, blondie.”
He butted me out of the way and I tried to hold my ground. Damn, I think the guy must be on steroids. How does a skinny kid get to be so manly in such a short amount of time?
“Look, I know your defender is lurking around. Seeing as how Elma put a bullet in Ferrari's ass earlier, I can only assume the WTF sent someone else. I'll make you a deal. You leave me alone and keep your Scottish manwhore from interfering, and I won't take the key around Elma's sweet little neck or tell her about you.”
“You're not going to try and tie me up or throw me in a ravine?”
“I don't have time to deal with you right now.” He scanned the area over my shoulder.
“You can't take the key Bonnie wears.”
“Do you know who the key belongs to?” he asked me.
I stayed silent keeping my eyes steady on his, hoping my lie would transverse through my actions.
“So, it's up for grabs then?” He smiled and extended a hand out to me. “May the best man or wench win.”
Taking the challenge Mitch offered would buy me time to steal Bonnie's key, and it would stall him from spilling out Elma's entire future to her. If he kept his promise, and if he didn't get the key before I did. Too many ifs.
Disregarding his reference to me as a wench, I slid my hand into his; I squeezed firmly, pumping my arm up and down. An angry desire rushed from his palm through my veins. The anger was directed at me, but I felt the desire was for someone else. He liked Elma. In fact, he had strong feelings for her.
“I'll agree to your terms,” I said. “But the key should be returned to whomever the Barrow gang stole it from.”
He stopped shaking my hand “Fine, have it your way.” He jerked my arm, grabbed me by the shoulders, and pushed. I tumbled down the short hill into a dry ravine. It all happened so fast I couldn't control my footing. Damn.
“Keep your promise bitch, or I'll tell Elma she shot her lover's grandson and you are her only living link to the gift.” His laughter echoed into the night as he walked away, leaving me in the dirt.
He was right. If Elma knew the details about her life, my entire family tree could sprout new limbs. Mamma Bea always said the new limbs made the best switches because they caused the most pain when whacked against your backside. I didn't need any new limbs in my family. Ace’s words about never, never, never giving up echoed in my head. I brushed the dirt off my clothes and charged back up the small hill, determined to become the Winston Churchill of the WTF.
* * *
“Fucking Mitch. I'll be damned if he's going to get the best of me.” My revenge would be taking his sleazy ass back to the WTF.
I rounded the corner and stopped short to find Bonnie giving Mitch a piece of her mind about how to treat women. I hovered at the edge of the building to spy on Mitch. He had his back to me, and Elma stood off to the side. The look on her face wasn't that of a young girl who had been taken advantage of, it was a calculating look. One that suggested she was already plotting out her next move.
“I'm sorry, Elma.” Mitch cooed. “I know you want to be married before you give yourself to a man, but look at Bonnie. She's not married to Clyde, and they have relations.”
Elma crossed her arms over her chest and raised an eyebrow at Mitch.
“All I ask is you consider it. Spending time out on the road together, sleepin’ in the same room. It’ll be hard for me to wait. I love you.”
Oh, brother, is he laying it on thick. I watched as Mitch bent down and gave Elma a long kiss. Bonnie looked pleased. The romantic poet in her seemed satisfied. Elma responded to Mitch's kiss. Either she was a good actor, or she had feelings for him as well.
“I need to check my inventory for tomorrow. If the Terrace runs out of moonshine, I'll be heading back to East Texas,” Elma said.
“Yep, it's getting late, and Clyde's probably lost all our cash. We'll meet up with you later at the motor court.” Bonnie yawned as she said the words.
Elma nodded and headed toward the restaurant.
Mitch followed on her heels. Stella had told me about the secret compartments in the house where they stored the alcohol. The owners of the Terrace took many precautions to avoid the strict consequences of violating prohibition.
Bonnie walked my direction, and I slid back inside the stable. After she ooed and awed over the racehorse, we made our way back to the secret staircase leading down to the casino.
Once inside, I noticed Ace was no longer at the card table with Clyde. Caiyan had taken his place.
“Looks like your betrothed is rubbing elbows with the movie stars,” Bonnie said, pointing at Ace. He was batting his eyelashes at a tall, well-groomed man playing the slots.
“Oh, yes, he's a big fan,” I said as I trailed behind Bonnie to Clyde's table.
Out of the corner of my eye, I caught Ace following the man out of the casino. Dammit Ace.
Caiyan followed my gaze and bit into his lower lip. The game had changed from blackjack to poker. Caiyan lost a round to Clyde. Bonnie made a few noises about being tired, and Clyde ignored her.
I stood behind Caiyan, watching the game. He started winning, and Clyde became annoyed. This was not a good
tactic to become closer to the infamous couple. I assumed they didn't trust easily. Caiyan was more focused on winning the game than on our mission. I peered over Caiyan's shoulder.
“Ooh! Your cards are so pretty. I love hearts and you have so many of them.”
Caiyan shot me a dirty look and folded. Clyde turned over his hand. Caiyan would have taken the outlaw, but thanks to me, Clyde was a winner.
“You can tell your boss he's all out of dough,” Clyde said pulling the chips toward him.
An alarm bell sounded, and the place sprang into action. The well-oiled machine of an illegal speakeasy made ready for an invasion. The staff began executing their protocol for a raid. The lights above the tables clicked off, a hidden door behind the pool cue rack flipped open, and the slot machines were rolled into a hidey-hole. Four workers flipped the billiard table over, transforming it into a fully set dining table for eight. One of the dealers struggled with the heavy roulette table as it folded in on itself forming an antique desk.
The staff began funneling us toward a secret door. I followed Caiyan as the patrons were escorted out through an underground tunnel. Bonnie and Clyde were in front of Caiyan. We climbed a set of stairs and spilled out into the tea garden. Stella was crooning a tune, and the other inhabitants of the garden acted as if people coming up from underground was a normal thing. Patrons deposited their teacups in a tub of vinegar and water and they were replaced immediately with new ones. Stella kept singing and the band kept playing.
Clyde acted a bit panicky for an experienced gangster. “The laws can't see us, Bonnie. They'll recognize us thanks to those damn pictures you took in Joplin.” He grabbed Bonnie's arm and escorted her toward the hillside.
Caiyan followed him. “We can't be seen either, the law might recognize us, too.”
We squatted down on the side of a hill. Tall brush hid us from view, but the steep incline of the hill caused my calves to cramp as I balanced in the bushes. A minister led a group of police through the tea garden. Stella had told me earlier there was a minister who wanted the Terrace shut down. We watched as he walked through the Terrace, dumping out freshly poured tea and smelling the water glasses.
