He nodded, looking down at the table. His mouth set in a grim line.
“D
id you do it Walt?” Emmie didn’t have to say what the it was. Everyone in the room knew. Gabe and Silas turned to take in her question as well. It was something they were initially curious about but Sheriff Drake had assured them Walt was not involved.
“No, child.” He looked up at her with his tired eyes. They crinkled up as he spoke, “I wouldn’t have killed Ronnie. Ya have to know that, right?”
She nodded, “But why wouldn’t you tell me. I deserved to know the truth.”
“I guess I didn’t want to see ya scared. Didn’t want to make you any sadder than you were. Plus I was afraid if you knew the truth you’d start sticking your nose in it. And when I saw them boys from out of town was involved.” He pointed at Gabe and Silas. “There was another one too, younger but looked a lot like him.” He pointed again at Silas.
“Trick?” Emmie asked.
“Yes,” Silas confirmed.
Walter sighed, “I didn’t want you to cross them. But I swear, girl, you got a talent for ropin’ ’em in. If there was a nest o’ snakes in fifty miles you’d jump right in it, wouldn’t ya?”
Emmie frowned at Walter. But she knew maybe he was right. She shook her head to clear the emotions that were weighing down her mind. Secrets lead to nothing but lies and shame. It’s all she’d seen over and over again. The moonshine, money, mama, Silas, Walter, her father… It was too much.
She felt Silas’s arm pull her in close. He leaned over and brushed a kiss on her forehead whispering, “We’re gonna fix this. We’ve almost got it.”
She nodded.
“Oh Lordy, girl. HIM?” Walter spit. “You were so disgusted by that shopkeeper and you pick him?”
Silas started to stand but Gabe put his hand out. He wouldn’t let him do something he would regret later.
“I’m going to let that go. But you need to watch it, old man,” Silas said.
“No, you need to watch it. You better take care of her or you’re gonna be answering to me through that shotgun over there, ya hear me boy?” Walter leaned across the table, his eyes never leaving Silas’s.
“’Cause don’t make no mistake, you’re not good enough for her,” Walt said to end his argument.
“I don’t disagree.” That’s when Silas realized for the first time that Walt really was trying to protect Emmie. He acted like she was his family. “But I’m going to spend from here on trying to be.”
Walt chewed his pipe. Then he nodded. “I guess that’s all a man can ask.”
Emmie was genuinely surprised at the turn of the conversation. It was weird and not at all what she had expected. But she did know she had a soft spot in her heart for each of those men. She felt in time they would grow to like each other.
“Well, what did you all drag an old man outta bed for?” Walter asked.
“Silas, I want you to talk to Walter about Sam Jones. Nobody around here knows more about moonshining or who does what than Walter,” Emmie said. “I’d like to hear what he thinks about all this.” She got up to pour some coffee while Silas and Walter talked.
He recounted the story from last week about the man coming in the pig saying he had some moonshine and knew they had lost their supply.
“We decided to let the jars come in just to see and as soon as he saw them, he knew right away they were Ronnie’s. They roughed the guy up, found out who he was working for, and it was Sam Jones. They just found Sam last night. Do you have any idea how he would have got Ronnie’s moonshine?” Silas asked.
“If you would have opened your eyes at the barn that night to anything but Bo you would have found your boy. He was sitting about three people to my right,” Walter said. “First things first, boy. That is my ’shine, not Ronnie’s. It’s the recipe that has been handed down for generations and that’s why your pig and speak costumers loved it. Ronnie might have been the smooth-talker but I was the maker. I’m the one that put those Xs on the jars. I’m guessing that’s how you identified them,” Walter said with pride.
Silas laughed and nodded. “Yeah. Well, you have any idea how he would have your moonshine?”
“No. I wouldn’t give him nothing. I don’t suspect Ronnie would have either. I think we was doing about all we could to keep your pig in business. Now, I didn’t know for sure who he was selling to. Ronnie didn’t give me no details much but I knew he wasn’t just selling to normal folks. He needed too much ’shine too fast there at the end.” Then Walter thought before he spoke again, “Like I told Emmie last night though, I do think he owed him money. I think he borrowed a little from him to keep your guy off his back for a while.”
“Walt, Sam came by here and dug around in the barn for some tools one day after Ronnie died. You think he could have been getting the ’shine?” she asked.
“I say there’s a good chance. The night before he died I’d just unloaded a lot of jars for him. He’d had us working overtime. It was so much I was afraid folks was gonna start noticing the white stains on the cave walls and trees from the smoke. That order would have been double or triple what you found in the pantry. I tried looking around for it a few months ago but never saw nothing of it,” Walter answered.
Gabe and Silas looked at each other for a moment. It was Gabe who finally spoke up. “That would have been our order. I think James had just told him we were on the way to Chicago, so that would explain the rush. James gave him the
Three M Ultimatum
: money, moonshine, or murder.”
“So it sounds like Sam was trying to sell you moonshine that was already yours,” Emmie said.
“Yeah,” Silas nodded then looked at her pointedly, “and so were you.”
Emmie’s mouth dropped open. He was right. She took a long pull from her coffee. That’s when she realized how deep she had gotten herself in this mess. She couldn’t even say how it had happened.
She looked at him. “I had no idea. I am so sorry.”
“Yeah,” Silas smiled down at her. “You’re lucky I love you or you’d be in some serious shit right now.” Was he teasing? Did he just say he loved her?
“Walter, did he ever pay you your part?” Gabe asked.
“Never saw it. I was going to confront him about it that night too but never got the chance.” He shook his head.
“What would he have done with all that money?” Emmie thought aloud.
“It ain’t hard to go through money. He was paying on this house. He also loved to go to the tracks… and we all know he liked his ’shine.”
That’s when the note popped back in her mind. He’d said he’d taken some of her money to live and paid it back a little at a time. She bet some of that money went to her secret stash. She would never understand why he was keeping it from her. What could he have been waiting for? It was probably something she would never know. At least she didn’t have to feel bad about having Silas’s money. She’d already given it back to him anyway.
“Thanks for your help, Walt,” Silas said, holding out his hand to the old man. “I think I can take care of the rest if I find the money and the ’shine. I’ll try to be sure you get what was coming to ya.”
Emmie was pleasantly surprised to hear that last part.
“Yeah, well you just remember what I said, boy,” Walter said, grabbing his shotgun and pointing at Emmie. But she knew him well enough to see his eyes sparked with humor.
Gabe walked outside with Walter, asking him a technical question about his shotgun. Apparently Gabe was a gun enthusiast, who knew?
“I’m going to use your phone to call Trick and James. It’ll just be a minute.” Silas walked into the living room to make his call. Emmie could tell he really didn’t want her to hear whatever it was he had to say. And truth be told, she probably didn’t want to hear it either.
The cuckoo clock chimed, announcing it was eight-fifteen. That’s when it hit her. She had to work today. How could she forget? She ran upstairs, put on a little powder, grabbed her extra apron, and thumped down the stairs. She could hear Silas was still on the phone. If she walked, she would be late for sure. She saw Walt was just getting in his car; he could give her a ride. Flying out the door she called to Gabe, “I’ve got to go to work. Tell Silas, okay?”
E
mmie literally ran through the door of the shop right at eight-thirty. She had barely told Walt thank you as she flew out the door. She tied her apron around her waist and dropped her purse in the drawer behind the counter. That’s when something out of place caught her eye on the counter. A small black box barely as long as a dollar bill and a few inches thick sat on top of a large white envelope. It was sitting right in the middle of the counter. It was really odd considering how obsessive Mr. Thomas was about things being in their place.
Emmie recognized it as the box that had been delivered to Mr. Thomas. It was the one he was so enthralled with. He carried it around for days. She picked up the box and turned it over in her hand. It was heavier than it looked. She opened it up and pulled out the smallest camera she had ever seen. Expo Police Camera was written in bold silver letters.
“It’s interesting. Isn’t it Emma?” Mr. Thomas startled her.
“Yes, sorry. I just was trying to figure out where it goes,” she said, dropping the camera back in its case.
He stepped up behind her close, too close. She could feel his shirt on her back. She froze like a deer in the headlights.
His long willowy arms reached around her and pulled out the envelope. He pulled out a small desk calendar. It was the kind that looked like a book with spots for notes on each day. “Take a good look at that, Emma dear.” His voice calm and collected.
Finally, he stepped back giving her a little more space. “Turn around and face me Emma,” he said.
She turned around and leaned her back against the counter confused. She opened the calendar. The first several months were blank. Most of it made no sense, it was names, dates, and times entered/exited.
She scanned through several pages until she found names she recognized.
March 28 – Alexander DeCarmilla Entered: 8:45 p.m. Exited: 11:57 p.m.
“I think you know Ava’s father.” Mr. Thomas smiled. “But look at May 2… that’s when things will be more interesting for you.”
May 2
Patrick McDowell, Silas McDowell Entered: 7:35 p.m. Exited: 12:05 a.m.
Gabriel Del Grande, Vincent DeCarmilla Entered: 8:55 p.m. Exited: 11:43 p.m.
Emmie looked up at him, still confused. What ever this was, it wasn’t good. She didn’t want to see anymore. She handed him back the book.
“No, Emma. You really need to see October 22nd. Trust me.” He smiled.
“Yesterday?” she asked.
He turned the pages and handed the book back to her.
October 22
Silas McDowell – Entered: 6:45 p.m. Exited: 11:52 p.m.
Patrick McDowell, Gabriel Del Grande – Entered: 7:02 p.m. Exited 11:52 p.m.
Ava DeCarmilla, Emma Talbot – Entered: 8:23 p.m. Exited: 11:52 p.m.
Emmie’s hands began to shake. She looked up at him shaking her head. Why would he keep a log of when people entered and exited the blind pig? Before she could find her voice to ask he cocked his head to the side. Waving his pointer finger back and forth as he tsked. Emmie tried to step back away from him but she was already pushed against the counter.
“Emmie, I warned you about hanging around with that riffraff. And look what you have done. I had to put your sweet name in my book.” He looked mockingly sad.
“Why are you doing this?” she asked.
“Because I am one of the few honorable people in this town. I’ve joined the United States Government in their fight on the evil that is alcohol. I am here to defend the 18th amendment. A few months ago my brother and I signed on as revenuers,” he said with a proud smile.
“That’s what Will meant about the money yesterday,” she thought aloud.
“Yes, and it’ll be coming to us real soon,” he said.
That’s when it clicked to her what he planned to do with the book. “Mr. Thomas, they will never believe you if all you have is some book. You cannot do this. There are good people in here.” She touched the calendar.
“Good people.” He laughed. “You are the only good name in that book. Which is why I will make a deal with you. Although, it is beneath me to do so, I do not want to turn you in.”