B00CZBQ63C EBOK (13 page)

Chapter
22

D
aniel pressed another towel-wrapped chunk of ice against his eye.
He had hoped to get the swelling down before showing up at the store, but the shiner refused to be hidden. How would he explain it to his grandfather, not to mention to every nosy customer that walked through the door? He stared into the mirror with his good eye.
It would be less noticeable if I strapped on an eye patch and talked like a pirate all day.

Daniel dropped the ice into th
e basin and reached for his tie and jacket. He knew Johnny’s temper—he just hadn’t ducked in time. He grabbed a last bite of breakfast before hurrying out the door.

His grandfather pulled the broom across the floor in a steady rhythm.

Daniel reached for his white coat. “I thought Marcie did that before she left.”

“I dropped a glass. Getting clumsy in my old age.”

“You’re not old, Granddad.” Daniel skirted past him and headed for the back room. “I’ll put the coffee on.”

“It’s already done. You’re late, you know. Were you out carousing last night?” His grandfather’s teasing voice followed him.

Better get this over with.

As Daniel turned to face him, Granddad’s broomstick hit the floor. “What in blazes happened to you?”

“I helped a friend.” Daniel turned back to the coffeepot.

His grandfather chuckled. “Well, you know what they say, ‘With friends like these, who needs enemies?’ ”

Daniel filled his cup, the brown liquid sloshing over the rim and scalding his fingers. Reaching for a towel, he mopped up the mess.

His grandfather approached. “Let me take a look at that eye.”

“It’s fine.”

“You look more like a prizefighter than a pharmacist. You’re going to wreck our image as outstanding pillars of society.” Granddad accepted the cup Daniel extended to him. “But then again, maybe the young ladies will like your dangerous new look.”

Daniel took a gulp of the dark brew. “More likely, they’ll run for the hills.”

The bell on the door jingled and Johnny peeked in before skulking up the aisle toward him.

“Hmm. Our first customer is a friend of yours. Isn’t he?” Granddad’s eyebrows lifted. “I’ll be in the back room if you need anything.”

Johnny stood like a penitent child waiting at the door to the principal’s office.

“You forget something last night?” Daniel knew his voice sounded sour, but something about waking up on the floor would do that to a person.

Johnny shuffled his feet as he approached. “Daniel—” His voice cracked. He glanced up and then away, as if he couldn’t stand to see his handiwork. “Look, I’m sorry. You’ll never know how sorry I am. I know that doesn’t mean much to you right now, but . . . ”

Daniel turned and reached for the coffeepot. “How about some coffee?”

Johnny didn’t answer, so Daniel just poured it and set it on the counter. He grabbed his own cup and settled on one of the fountain stools.

After a tense moment, Johnny sat down next to him. “Thanks.”

“For the coffee? Or for saving your hide last night?”

Johnny stared into the cup. “Both.”

“You’re welcome.” He lifted the glass dome off of a platter filled with donuts and scooped up two, handing one to Johnny. “I’m sorry for what I said, too. I took it too far.”

Johnny grunted and took a bite. “I owe you an explanation. But it’s just between us. Laurie doesn’t need to know.”

Daniel nodded.

“You remember when my mom died, right?” Johnny turned toward Daniel, bags under his eyes.

“Yes. We were what . . . about fourth grade?”

“Fifth.” Johnny took a sip of his coffee. “Well, she was hospitalized in Port Townsend for eight months before that.”

Daniel set down his cup. “I didn’t know that.”

“We didn’t really talk about it much.” He turned toward the window. “My father—he was so broken after Mom died. He couldn’t handle being around us kids. He handed us off to an elderly aunt and enlisted.” Johnny set the donut on the counter as if he couldn’t bear its sweetness.

“When he came back, he was even worse off. He had always been a drinker, but . . . he got mean, violent. And . . . ” He shook his head. “Well, it don’t matter much now. I left home a few years ago, for all our sakes.”

A hole opened in Daniel’s chest. “What about Laurie?”

“He never really bothered her. She reminds him of Mom, I think. She knows how to stay out of his way. I was never very good at that.”

Daniel touched his bruised cheekbone. “I can imagine.”

A wry smile graced Johnny’s lips. “Yeah.”

“So what has this got to do with everything else?”

Johnny wrapped his fingers around the coffee cup. “A few months ago, I was at home helping Laurie fix a broken screen. I try to visit when he’s not around.” He turned to face Daniel. “I found a stack of bills in the desk drawer. Hospital bills.”

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.”