B00CZBQ63C EBOK (25 page)

Chapter
44

L
aurie smoothed a hand across her wrinkled skirt and took a deep
breath before stepping into the switchboard office.

Mr. Quinn’s glare raked across her raw nerves.

Straightening her shoulders, Laurie strolled to the coat-room. The reek of her boss’s hair tonic accosted her before she had even shrugged out of her sweater. “Miss Burke—a word.”

She closed her eyes for a heartbeat, willing her heart to beat at a normal pace. “Mr. Quinn, I apologize for my abrupt departure yesterday. I received a call that my father had been taken ill. He’s in the hospital.”

“Yes, well . . . ” His frown lessened. “Come with me, please.”

Laurie pressed a palm against her midsection as she trailed Mr. Quinn to the small office. He gestured to a straight back chair before edging behind the imposing desk consuming the bulk of the floor space. As he settled into a swivel chair, the diminutive man resembled a child daring to sit at the teacher’s desk.
“Miss Burke, I’ve spoken to you several times lately about business protocol—receiving private calls, not meeting time quotas, family members loitering outside . . . ”—he cleared his throat—“not to mention gentlemen visitors.”

A flash of heat crawled up Laurie’s neck.

“Even if I were to excuse the incident yesterday, today you showed up late and noticeably disheveled. You are aware that we insist that our operators be respectable young ladies from our community and we expect your behavior and dress to reflect that policy.”

She ran her hand over her skirt, tugging it to cover her knees. “I must apologize, Mr. Quinn. I came straight from the hospital. If you will excuse me, I’ll go to the ladies room and try to improve my appearance.”

He lifted a hand. “I only wished to say that your employment here is on shaky ground, Miss Burke. I will need to see a marked improvement in your conduct if you expect to remain working for Port Angeles Telephone.” He drew out the company name as if it were a badge of honor.

Laurie gritted her teeth and faked a smile. “Yes, sir. I understand.”

He spread his arms, flattening his palms against the vast, glossy desktop. “You may see to your appearance.”

She nodded and pressed her fingers against her burning cheeks before hurrying to the powder room. Leaning toward the mirror, she eyed her complexion. Other than the flush and the dark circles under her eyes, she didn’t look so bad.

“That man is just a bully,” she whispered to her reflection.

She splashed some water over her fingers and ran it through her hair, smoothing the random fly-aways and tucking a few loose strands behind her ears. Laurie touched up her lipstick before glancing down at her clothes.

A loose thread caught her eye. Laurie traced the offender to the exposed seam at her side. Fingers shaking, she fumbled with the buttons, pulled off the garment and tugged it right side out. No wonder Mr. Quinn was so appalled.

Laurie fastened her leather belt, giving the skirt one final tug.
If only my legs weren’t so long.
Women in magazines wore far shorter hems than this, but likely they didn’t work for Mr. Quinn.

After a last few adjustments, Laurie hurried to the board and took her seat. Slipping the headset over her hair, Laurie attempted to push aside her exhaustion. Best not to give the boss more ammunition by slouching.

Laurie’s eyes glazed as she struggled to keep them focused on the board through the day, her stomach tightening with each silly mistake. Thankfully, the other operators covered for her, catching her errors and redirecting them before they came to Mr. Quinn’s attention. She maintained the expected rod-straight posture as she perched on the high chair, but her heart sagged. She needed to get through today without being fired.

Other patients lined the hospital ward, but Laurie’s gaze skipped over them as she raced back to her father’s bedside.

Johnny leaned over the bed, his cap clutched against his midsection as he muttered quiet words to his father.

Acid crawled up Laurie’s throat. “What are you doing here?”

Johnny’s eyebrows lifted. “Hello to you, too. What’s gotten you in such a foul mood this evening?”

She bit her tongue and turned her eyes away, pushing down the storm of bitter words threatening to erupt from her mouth. “It’s been a long day.”

Johnny turned back to face the bed. “I’ll come see you tomorrow, Dad. Okay?”

Dad grunted, shifting under the sheet. “I want something to drink.”

“Laurie will get you some water. I’ve got to go.” Johnny tipped his head toward her and smirked. “The man’s thirsty.”

Laurie clamped hands on her hips. “I’ll take care of it. Goodness knows he shouldn’t have anything you’d offer him.”

His eyes narrowed. “Just what are you accusing me of?”

“I know you, Johnny. You think this little episode proves that you were right.” Heat surged up Laurie’s spine.

Johnny lifted his chin. “You said it, not me. But I warned you. He’s not going to change. He’ll drink himself to the grave.”

Red spots danced before her eyes. “If he didn’t have access to booze, he’d have no choice but to quit.”

“What are you going to do? Stand over him day and night to make sure he ain’t brewing his own beer or mixing gin in the bathtub? Shut down every speakeasy? Are you going to single-handedly chase all the bootleggers out of Port Angeles?” Johnny sneered at her. “You are so naive, Laurie. It’s time you grew up.”

“You’re as bad as he is.” A hard lump grew in her throat.

“Bring me a bottle.” Dad groaned, twisting under the sheet.

Johnny pulled the cap over his hair. “You heard the man.” He bent over the bed. “I’ll see what I can do, Dad. There’s a fresh shipment coming in the day after tomorrow.” He turned back to Laurie. “And don’t worry—I won’t be going along this time. I’ve got an extra shift at the mill.”

Laurie gripped the iron rails of the hospital bed, throat closing. “I’m finished worrying about you, Johnny Burke. Whatever happens to you now is on your head.”

Daniel’s palms dampened as Laurie walked into the drugstore late in the evening. The vivid memories rushed back.

Her feet shuffled over the tile floor as if she no longer had energy to lift them. Laurie dropped onto one of the stools, forehead etched with lines.

“I don’t know what to do anymore, Daniel. My dad can’t wait to get his hands on another bottle of booze. Johnny’s threatening to bring him one. My entire world has tilted on its axis. One wrong move and I might fall clean off of it.” She pulled off her hat and ran her hands through her rumpled hair. “You and Amelia are the only ones I can trust.”

Daniel’s mouth grew as dry as desert sands. He took a damp cloth and wiped down the counter, scrubbing at a stubborn spot of unidentified stickiness.

Laurie leaned forward, catching his eye. “You haven’t asked me about a walk this evening.”

“It’s been a long day, following an even longer night. Don’t you think you should get some rest?” His chest ached, a gaping hole opening deep inside.

She folded her hands, an impish smile touching her red lips. “I think it might clear my head a little. Maybe help me sleep.”

Daniel lifted his head and gazed at her. The dark circles under her eyes only accentuated the intensity of the blue color. “I wish I had some magic pill to make all life’s problems go away.”

She reached for his hand. “I thought you pharmacists had every cure-all under the sun.”

Daniel stepped back, pushing his hands into his pockets, the tightness in his chest intensifying. “I’m starting to discover that we can actually cure very little, unfortunately.”

Laurie’s eyes rounded as she withdrew her hand. A crease formed in her brow. She sat silent for a moment, gazing at him. “What’s wrong?”

Daniel turned his eyes away. It hurt too much to look at her. “Nothing. I just think you ought to get home. You can get started on that good night’s sleep.” He turned and walked away, refusing to give in to the longing to pull her into his arms.

Longings are what got him in trouble in the first place.

I knew it would eventually come to this.
Laurie pressed her fingers against the pounding in her temples, the silence in the house failing to bring peace to her heart. Remembering the emptiness on Daniel’s face brought a lump to her throat. She’d bared her heart, and he turned away.

She filled a glass and pulled the headache powders from the kitchen cupboard. Grasping one of the small packets, she unfolded the paper and let the bitter powder slide down onto her tongue. Trying not to gag, Laurie quickly gulped down the water.

Laurie filled the glass a second time.
I can’t let Johnny start bringing Dad bottles again.
The cool liquid eased the bitter taste in her mouth but did little for what lingered in her heart.

I can’t watch my father all day and night, Lord.
She wandered to her room and crawled under the covers.
God, you have to take this one. I’m out of answers.

Hours later, she jerked awake in the darkness. Rain pattered against the window. She turned over in the bed, drawing her pillow down beside her. Accustomed to listening for her father, even the sound of the rain roused her easily.

Tomorrow she’d speak to Dad once more about the in-hospital treatment Daniel had suggested. How long would it take to dry a man out and convince him to stay that way?

It would never happen if Johnny started bringing him booze.

She dug her fingers into the blanket and pulled it tight against her chin as if it could somehow screen out the worrisome thoughts. Drawing her pillow to her chest, Laurie curved her body around it. She visualized Daniel’s sleeping face and reached out to touch the smooth pillowcase.

The only way to fix everything would be to rid Port Angeles of liquor entirely. Johnny’s words floated back to her mind.
“Are you going to single-handedly chase all the bootleggers out of Port Angeles?”

Laurie bit her lip. Could she?

Chapter
45

S
amuel’s chair squeaked as he leaned back, tapping the large oak
desk with a fountain pen. “You’re sure about this?”

Laurie nodded, taking a deep breath to slow her pounding heart. After tonight, Port Angeles would be a dry town. “Yes.”

“I believed you before when you pointed your finger at Shepherd. Look how that turned out.”

Laurie dug a fingernail into the tip of her thumb. “Yes, well, I wasn’t really sure that time. Now I am. I heard them on the telephone connection. The man said that they would be hauling whiskey and gin.”

Samuel wrote down the information on a notepad. “What else did they say? Any names?”

A chill washed over her. Names? “No . . . wait—Jerry.”

“Jerry who?” Samuel raised one eyebrow. “What number?”

“I don’t remember. I’m sorry.” She fidgeted, avoiding his moss-green eyes. “He said that the drop point would be Freshwater Cove.”

He sat up. “Freshwater Cove—not Crescent?” He tapped the pen a few more times before scratching the name down on the pad. “Anything else?”

She searched her memory for useful facts that would not incriminate her brother. “Two boats.”

“Fishing boats? Speed boats?”

“Row boats.”

The swivel chair squeaked as he pushed to his feet. “Row boats? You’re kidding.”

“One of them mentioned using oars.”

“Who would be crazy enough to row across the Straits at night?”

Laurie shrugged. “Maybe I misunderstood.”

Samuel wandered the room, rubbing the pen against his chin. “It would be quiet that way. And if you’ve got plenty of muscle, it could be done.” He perched on the edge of the desk in front of Laurie, propping his shoe on the corner of her chair.

His eyes gleamed. “Thanks to you, I’m going to bust this operation wide open. We’ll catch those rumrunners with their pants down. There will be no more smuggling whiskey into Port Angeles right under our noses.”

Laurie ran a finger along the edge of Samuel’s desk, fighting to steady her resolve. “That’s what I’ve wanted all along.”

His gaze lingered on her. “I’ve missed you, Laurie. I thought you were spending all your time with that pharmacist fellow.” He lowered his two-toned shoe to the floor, brushing her ankle in the process.

Jumping to her feet, Laurie paced to the window, staring out across Fourth Street toward the front window of Larson’s Drugs. A blue glint flashed, as if a glimmer of sunlight hit the show globe. “Yes, well. Things change.”

“I thought after our first evening together, maybe I had a chance with you.” Samuel’s milky voice carried across the confined space. “I thought you were looking for a trustworthy man. A man you could respect.”

Her shoulders stiffened. “What are you implying?”

Samuel drew close behind her. “Daniel Shepherd isn’t the man you think he is.”

She turned, matching his gaze. “That’s odd, because he said the same about you.” Laurie locked eyes with Samuel. “So, what are you suggesting?”

The corner of his mouth twitched before lifting into a grim smile. “You don’t know? He hasn’t told you about his past?”

Her stomach twisted. “He grew up in Port Angeles. He went to Seattle for college and to work. Now he’s back. What’s so startling about that?”

Samuel stepped closer, settling one hand on the windowsill behind her back and leaning in. “College and work—is that what he said? Did he mention what he did in his free time?”

Laurie ears began to buzz, weakness spreading through her body.

He bent his head close, as if to hide his words from listening ears. “He’s no saint, Laurie.”

Her words came out in a strangled whisper. “I wouldn’t expect him to be.”

“I asked around at the University of Washington. Shepherd was put on probation twice for drunkenness. And once . . . ”—he paused, searching her face—“for assault.”

Laurie stumbled out of Samuel’s office and onto the sidewalk, tears blinding her eyes. Larson’s Drugs stood at the far end of the street. She spun and trod down the hill toward the water. She shoved her hands deep into her coat pockets, lifting her face toward the gray sky. Misty raindrops fell, cooling her burning cheeks.

Lifting her hands, she gripped the edges of her hat and pulled it further downward, hiding her from the world. She let gravity hurry her feet until she was nearly running—pressing past people as they did business in the downtown establishments. She aimed for the spit and the clarity the water always provided.

The horizon seemed to dip and sway, as if she were riding the ferry over storm-tossed waters. She lurched off the street and onto the rocky shoreline.

“No,” she choked the word out into the wind that brushed past her. “No, God. It can’t be true.”

Laurie tore off her hat and cast it onto the ground at her feet. She unbuttoned her coat and let the wind lift its edges, cleansing her hurt with its damp crispness. Breathless, she bent over to clutch at one of the massive logs lining the water. Daniel was different—truthful. Or so she’d believed.

She remembered sitting next to Samuel Brown the day Pastor Yoder had preached on forgiveness. A single verse whispered in her memory:
“There is none righteous, no, not one.”
The truth echoed in her heart, sinking to the very depths of her being.

She collapsed against the log, dropping to her knees in the wet gravel and spreading her arms over the tree’s wet, gritty bark. Laurie let her face fall forward, pressing her forehead against the fallen tree. “Lord, please let Samuel be wrong. I can’t love a dishonest man.”

Her heart pounded as the ache burrowed in, nestling against her ribs. Daniel’s face hovered in her thoughts—reaching his hand out to lift her up on the log at the beach, holding her as she wept in the hospital, smiling that first night on the bluff.

She needed to know the truth.

Daniel lifted the globe from the window, balancing it carefully so the blue fluid lapped against the glass. The sapphire liquid reminded him too much of Laurie’s eyes. It needed to go. A nice, gloomy forest-green, perhaps.

Marcie maintained a brisk pace at the fountain, but few wandered over to the pharmacy counter. Maybe he’d spend some time carefully mixing the chemicals so to create a layered rainbow effect. He’d seen it done, but had never attempted it.

He’d keep a little of the blue at the bottom and layer the other colors above. A rainbow above the sea.

Daniel carefully tipped the yellow fluid, sending it through a glass tube. The color glided along the side of the show globe, spilling over the blue layer. He held his breath, careful to keep the glass motionless as the color slid across the top of the liquid without intermingling.

A smile played at the corners of his mouth. It might not be life-saving medicine, but it sidetracked his thoughts—a medicine, in itself.

He reached for the next beaker, filled with a blood-red ferric chloride solution. Daniel held it up and swirled it in the light. He balanced the show globe in his palm, holding his breath while he tipped the beaker, the red mixture sliding down the smooth glass.

Daniel held his breath, concentrating on tipping the beaker at a gentle angle. When the bell sounded from the door, he didn’t pay attention. Marcie could take care of it.

“Daniel?” a voice quavered.

Daniel glanced up, his hand jerking.

Laurie stood facing him, her arms wrapped around her middle, fingers gripping her elbows.

An icy chill swept across his skin—just like when he woke from his liquor-flavored dreams. He lost his grip on the glass sphere and it thumped against the counter, wetting his fingers. The ferric acid invaded the other layers, claiming each of the colors until the whole globe turned dark.

His body went weak. Daniel swallowed, gripping the counter for stability.
She knows.