B00CZBQ63C EBOK (16 page)

Her fiery glare sent a jolt through his system. Daniel scrambled for words that wouldn’t worsen the moment.

“I deserve better.” She twisted her pearl necklace like a noose. “Samuel Brown is respectful. And respectable, for that matter. What do you or Johnny know about that?” She jabbed her finger against Daniel’s chest. “You can tell Johnny I’m done protecting him. You two deserve what you get.” Laurie turned and bolted into the house, slamming the door behind her.

Daniel pulled off his hat and ran his fingers through his hair. He stared at the ramshackle house as the porch light clicked off, plunging him into semi-darkness. A thick layer of clouds drifted in from the water, blotting out the moon.

Chapter
26

L
aurie didn’t bother putting in the wave combs before falling into
bed and pulling the covers over her head. What is it with men? They can’t all be drunks and crooks. She sighed, rubbing her toes together to warm them. Wind rattled her window and the first drops of rain tapped on the roof.

She rolled over and curled up on her side, drawing Mama’s afghan close under her chin. The soft yarn brought its own peace. As she closed her eyes, she pictured Samuel Brown’s pleasant smile and wide green eyes.
At least he’s one of the good guys.

She longed to confide in Amelia and get her advice about this situation, but her friend still didn’t know about the rumrunning. And Laurie didn’t want to be the one to tell her.

She tossed and turned, the sheets tangling about her legs. Clicking on the lamp, Laurie climbed out of bed and padded over to her desk. Sliding open the drawer, she fingered her mother’s jewelry box. So many secrets, hidden away.

She pushed it aside and retrieved her sketchbook. Hurrying back to the warmth of her bed, Laurie tucked her feet back under the covers. Propping a pillow behind her back, she gripped the pencil and turned to a blank page.

Laurie slid the pencil across the paper, sketching Samuel’s profile, the hymnbook open in his hands, sunlight streaming through the stained glass window behind him. Her pencil wandered to the far side of the paper and she sketched Daniel Shepherd, leaning over his mortar and pestle, dark brows knit together in concentration. She frowned, unable to get the line of his jaw exactly right.

Laurie tapped the pencil against her mouth as she listened to the rain pattering on the roof. Was Johnny out on the water tonight? Pulling her drawing of Crescent Beach and a fresh sheet of paper, she sketched the image from the perspective of the water, the boat in the foreground and the beach and the dark bluff beyond, adding streaks of falling rain. Several shadowy figures hunched in the boat, rows extended.

A few more shipments—that’s what he’d said. Laurie shivered and pulled the afghan higher around her middle. She added details on the shoreline and shaded the bluff, a dark mass against the sky. An automobile at the top with its headlights aglow, showing the sailors where to land.

There must be some way to help Samuel and still keep Johnny safe. Her eyes wandered back to the sketch of Samuel singing in church. Would he show her brother any mercy?

The expanding sketch now consumed most of the page. She used the edge of the pencil, deepening the shadows on the dark bluff, leaving white streaks where the automobile’s headlamps glared through the murky night.

The beach itself looked so empty and flat. She penciled in a few logs, but they created little depth for the picture. With a grimace, she added a lone figure, waiting for the boat to arrive. Daniel perhaps, acting as lookout. But as her pencil scratched along the beach section of the image, she glanced back at the drawings of Mr. Shepherd and Mr. Brown, a cold finger reaching into her heart.

Samuel had mentioned a long drive tonight. Her heart skipped a beat.

Throwing back the covers, she swung her feet over the edge, the sketchbook falling to the floor in her haste. With a kick of her foot, she sent it sliding under the bed. Laurie hurried to her closet, stripped off her nightgown, and dressed in warm clothes. Grabbing her raincoat and hat in one hand, she scooped up her shoes in the other.

She glanced at the clock—fifteen minutes past midnight. She sank down on the edge of her bed, her breathing ragged. If the men were going to Canada, they would have left by now. There was no way to get word to them.

What do I do, God?

Rain thrummed on the roof. She squeezed her coat to her chest. She could go to Johnny’s house and look for him there. Or to the dock.
But what if they’ve already gone?

Samuel’s face loomed up in her mind. He rented the old Smythe place on Maple Street.

Laurie crept across her bedroom and eased open the door. She peered down the dark hall, relieved to hear her father’s snores. Stealing through the house, Laurie paused to gather up her father’s flashlight from the drawer in the kitchen.

She opened the door and slipped out to the back porch without a sound. Barely breathing, she inched the door closed behind her. Jamming her bare feet into her shoes, she pushed her arms into the sleeves of her coat.

Laurie’s heart pounded as she pattered down the dark steps and raced across the wet grass. The flashlight bounced in her pocket. She vowed not to use it unless absolutely necessary. The last thing she needed was for a neighbor to spot her sneaking out after midnight. Her family already gave the town enough material for their gossip chains.

Laurie hurried to the Smythe house, just five blocks away, splashing through mud puddles and soaking her shoes. The shrubs at the side of the road offered minimal protection.

She approached the house, relieved to see the windows completely dark. Samuel’s car was nowhere to be seen. Stepping carefully around the corner, she withdrew the flashlight and flicked it on. Laurie wrapped her fingers over the lens to keep the light dim. Inching step by step, she stole around the back of the house and pointed the shaft of light down into the alley.

The Studebaker gleamed in the fragile beam, rain streaming off its hard top.

Hot tears sprang to her eyes.
Such a fool, tromping out here in the rain for nothing.
She tipped her head back, letting the rain splash down on her upturned face.
Thank you, Lord.

Laurie turned toward home, determined to crumple—no, burn—the sketch that had tricked her imagination and sent her out into another dark, rainy night. She slogged through the wet grass along the side of the house, keeping the light carefully pointed at her feet.

A shadow darted through her circle of light. Laurie shrieked in alarm before clamping her mouth shut. She pointed the light, the white face and glowing eyes of an opossum staring back at her.

A window rattled above her head. Laurie flung herself against the house, her heart jumping into her throat. The curtain parted, light flooding out across the grass. The opossum, caught in the glare, crouched low in the grass, bared its teeth, and hissed.

Laurie pressed herself against the clapboard house and held her breath.

Finally the curtain dropped and after a few more moments, the light clicked off. The opossum ambled off into the shrubs.

She counted to fifty before edging around the corner of the house. She kept the flashlight off and shuffled her feet, feeling carefully with her toe before each step. It took several minutes to retrace her path back to the front of the house.

She rounded the corner, her heartbeat slowing to a normal pace. Five minutes and she would be snuggling back in bed, ready to put this nightmarish evening behind her.

A light erupted in her face. “Hold it!”

Laurie twisted to run, her feet slipping in the wet grass, her heart ready to jump from her chest.

Footsteps banged across the wooden porch and landed next to her. A strong hand grabbed her arm and wrenched her backward. “What do you think you’re doing?”

Samuel’s face twisted, his lip lifted upward in a snarl, a gun clenched in his hand.

“I—I—” she stammered as she pulled against his grip, words failing.

“Laurie?” He hauled her back, fingers digging into the soft flesh of her upper arm. “What are you doing here?”

“Let me go!”

“Why are you skulking around my house in the middle of the night?”

“I wasn’t skulking,” Laurie gasped. “I was just out walking.”

His grip on her arm tightened. “In the dark? In the rain?” He dragged her toward the porch.

“Where are you taking me?”

“Inside. It’s cold out here and I’m not exactly dressed for the weather.” He stood on the lawn in nothing but pajama bottoms, his bare feet exposed in the wet grass.

She set her heels and pulled against his hand, averting her eyes from his muscled chest. “No, I can’t go in there.”

He didn’t reply, just hauled her up the porch steps and pressed her through the open door.

Laurie stumbled in, dripping water on the floor.

He released her arm and shut the door behind them, shaking raindrops from his hair. “Sit down and wait for me.” His eyes burned, as if daring her to leave. “I’m going to get dressed. And then I’m going to make us something hot to drink. Maybe by that point you’ll have an answer for me.”

Laurie perched on the corner of the sofa as Samuel stalked from the room. She shivered, whether from shock or cold, she wasn’t certain. Her mind jumbled with possible excuses, each more ridiculous than the last.

Samuel re-appeared five minutes later, shirt hanging unbuttoned over a white union suit, and the gun tucked in the waistband of his trousers. He carried two steaming cups. “Tea.” He handed her a cup, not bothering to ask about cream or sugar.

Laurie placed it on the end table, trying to still her trembling hands.

He eased into a chair, his eyes locked on her. “Well?”

Laurie took a deep breath. “You—you said that you had plans this evening.” She grasped at excuses, even if they weren’t good ones. “I was curious.” She cleared her throat and reached for the tea. The cup clattered against the saucer as she tried to lift it. “Were you out on a date or searching for bootleggers?”

He cocked an eyebrow. “Are you jealous?”

“That depends on your answer, I suppose.”

He leaned back in his seat, eyes gleaming. “How was your date with Shepherd?”

She shrugged, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “It was nice enough.”

“Hmm.” He propped a hand under his chin. “He doesn’t seem like your type.”

“And what would you know about that?”

Samuel leaned forward, scooting to the edge of his chair. “Mild-mannered pharmacist?” He shook his head. “You strike me as the type of girl who’d like a little more excitement in her life.” He reached out a hand and brushed her knee.

Her heart hammered in her chest. “Excitement is over-rated, I think.”

“And yet, here you are on my doorstep in the middle of the night.” A sly smile lifted one corner of his mouth. “You’re not willing to settle for boring.”

She pulled back in her seat so his hand dropped from her leg. “I’m afraid I may have given you the wrong impression.”

He settled his hands on his knees. “I don’t think so. I’ve heard some stories about your family since I got to town. I’d hate to believe that there’s any truth to the rumors about your father and your brother.” His eyes narrowed. “Maybe you can convince me of the truth.”

A cool prickle ran across her skin. “Don’t believe everything you’ve heard.”

“I told you. Rumors are my bread and butter.”

She fell silent, biting her lip.

He sat back and tapped his hand against the arm of the chair. “Then maybe you’re ready to give me some names. Some others have pointed fingers, but I’m trying to be fair, here. You know more than you’re telling me.”

Laurie closed her mouth and pressed herself into the sofa’s cushioned back.

“I see the fear that crosses your face every time I mention it. Your eyes are fountains of expression. You’re hiding something, that’s a certainty. Is it your father?”

Laurie’s heart raced, her mouth suddenly dry.

Samuel scooted forward until his knee touched hers. “You need to tell me the truth. I can’t help you if I don’t know what’s going on.” He stood, coming over to join her on the sofa. “You’re not helping anyone by keeping these secrets. If you tell me the truth, I might be able to help the person you’re protecting.”

Laurie stared at her hands. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Is it your father? His boss at the mill said that he’s been acting a little peculiar.”

His boss said that?
“No.”

He ran his fingers up her arm, his touch like an electric current. “Then it’s your brother.”

Laurie jumped to her feet, nearly upsetting her teacup. “I’ve got to go. I shouldn’t be here.”

Samuel grabbed her hand and pulled her back down beside him, wedging her in the corner of the sofa. “Laurie, either give me some names or show me how wrong I am about you.” His warm breath tickled her cheek.

Her stomach lurched. “I don’t know what you are suggesting.”

“I think you do. You can’t be nearly as innocent as you act.” He placed his hand under her chin, lifting her face. “Shall I call the sheriff? We can show up at the mill tomorrow with a warrant. Your father or your brother—which one?”

Her world spun. “Neither.”

“Laurie . . . ”

“I’m telling you,” she gasped, “they’re not involved.”

He squeezed his hand on her shoulder, his fingers pinching into her skin. “Then show me.” He lowered his lips to her neck.

Laurie closed her eyes. “No.” She pushed against him, wrenching her shoulders free. “I’ll give you names.”

“I’m listening.”

Her mind reeled, latching onto the first name that came to her lips. “Shepherd. He’s one of them.”

“The pharmacist.” Samuel’s hands loosened. “The one you’ve been all cozy with?”

She broke free from his grip and jumped to her feet, her stomach churning. “He’s one of the rumrunners.”

Chapter
27

D
aniel crouched behind the pharmacy counter, sorting through
prescriptions. The door’s jingle caught his attention and he pushed up to his feet, unfolding his knees with a grimace.

Samuel Brown strode into the store like he owned the place, Sheriff Martinson and four deputies on his heels.

Daniel ignored the cold sweat breaking out across his skin as he stepped out from behind the counter. “Can I help you gentlemen?”

Brown came to a stop two paces away from him and crossed his arms over his chest, a pleased smile gracing his face. “Daniel Shepherd.”

A weight settled in Daniel’s stomach. “What can I do for you, Brown?”

Sheriff Martinson stepped forward. “Mr. Shepherd, I’m afraid I have a warrant for your arrest. I’d like you to come in for questioning and I hope”—he cast a quick glance at Brown—“we can clear this up, quickly.”

Granddad appeared from the back room, the color draining from his face. “Daniel, what’s going on?”

“I’d like to know that, myself.”

The sheriff stepped forward. “Miles, we have to take your grandson in for questioning. He’s been implicated as a suspect in a rumrunning case.” He turned to Daniel. “You are being arrested for activities in violation of the Volstead Act.”

Daniel squeezed his fingers into a fist. “What kind of activities?”

“The import, transport, and sale of intoxicating liquor.” Sheriff Martinson’s gaze flickered between Brown and Shepherd.

“Marty, this is ridiculous.” Granddad yanked off his spectacles. “My grandson is as dry as they come.”

Brown snorted. “Doesn’t matter. We have an eyewitness who fingered Shepherd as a member of the ring. Now, Sheriff”—he gestured with his head—“you said the county would cooperate on this matter. Would you like to have the honor of arresting him, or shall I do it myself?”

Martinson stepped forward and grasped Daniel’s arm. “Come on, son. We’re going to take you down to the station and ask you a few questions.”

Brown slipped a pair of handcuffs from his pocket. “Restrain him. We don’t want him running.”

Daniel’s anger bubbled over. “You are so far out of line, here, Brown. I’m no more a rumrunner than you are an honest lawman.”

Brown’s eyes darkened. He fastened onto Daniel’s coat and rammed him against the counter. “You’re going to regret that comment.” He turned him around and snapped the cuffs on one wrist.

Daniel gritted his teeth. “Who’s this eyewitness, anyway?”

Brown twisted his arm. “How I would love to tell you that. But it’s not allowed.”

Daniel felt the cuffs click into place behind his back. “Don’t I have the right to face my accuser?”

“Soon enough. Now, Sheriff, you can take him. I have a second warrant here giving me the right to search this store from attic to basement and I plan on doing just that.”

Daniel’s grandfather frowned. “We’ve got nothing to hide.”

“I’ll make sure of that. You might want to close up while we do this.”

Sheriff Martinson sighed. “I’m sorry about this, Miles. But Revenue has jurisdiction in these cases.”

Granddad nodded, face grim. “I understand.”

A small crowd gathered around the entrance to the store as the sheriff escorted Daniel to the street. Sheriff Martinson gestured with his arm. “Go on about your day, folks.”

Daniel gazed at the sidewalk, oblivious to the stares of the crowd.

Laurie stomach curdled as she watched Daniel being led out to a police car by two tommy gun–toting deputies. She pushed away her swirling emotions. She’d only done what was necessary to protect Johnny. Besides, Daniel was guilty, after all. It’s not like she had lied to Samuel.

“Laurie, what’s going on?”

The sight of her best friend brought hot tears stinging her eyes. “Amelia, Daniel’s been arrested.”

“What? Why?”

The police car pulled away down the street while the crowd gaped and pointed.

Laurie let the tears fall. “Because of me.”