B00CZBQ63C EBOK (6 page)

Laurie smiled. “I’m not sure I do know.” She glanced over her shoulder to where Mr. Shepherd still worked at the pharmacy counter, his back to them. “But, Anne-Marie always understood these things better than me.”

Mr. Brown cleared his throat. “I believe I’d like a root beer float. How does that sound to you, Miss Burke?”

Laurie kept her expression neutral. “Root beer sounds fine, but I’d prefer a chocolate egg cream.”

“A woman who knows her own mind. I like that.” Mr. Brown smiled.

Laurie noticed Marcie staring at her companion with round eyes, a touch of pink showing beneath her freckles. “Marcie, have you met Mr. Samuel Brown?”

Marcie shook her head, her dark curls bouncing. She wiped her hand on her apron and held it out.

As Mr. Brown shook the girl’s hand, Laurie continued. “Mr. Brown, may I introduce Marcie Connor? I work with Marcie’s sister at the telephone exchange.”

When the agent released her hand, Marcie scurried off to fill their order, her fingers fluttering to her chest. Laurie smiled. One would think the girl had never seen a handsome man before. Of course, had her reaction at church been any different?

Mr. Brown swiveled toward her again, his knee brushing hers. Laurie pulled her legs back and crossed them on the far side of the stool.

He gazed at her without saying a word, making Laurie feel like an insect under a microscope. “You work at the exchange?”

“Yes.” Laurie dug a handkerchief from her purse, overcome by a sudden need to have something in her hands.

“That must be interesting work.” He rested his chin on his hand.

“Not really. You sit on a stool, flip switches, and move cords from one hole to another.”

He laughed, sitting back and running a hand through his blond hair. “Well, if you put it that way. But I’ve always heard that the operators in these small towns know everybody and everybody’s business.”

She glanced over her shoulder, distracted by the banging of the mortar. How much grinding did headache powders need? “Not really. We’re not allowed to listen in, you know. But I do know certain folks’ habits pretty well.”

“Like what?”

Laurie folded the handkerchief into a neat square. “I know Mrs. Simon plays cards at Mrs. Grant’s house most days after lunch. So, if her son calls during that time, I’ll ring her there. And Mr. Johansson has been helping his neighbor with some automobile repairs, so if I don’t find him at home, I might check next door. ”

He chuckled as Marcie arrived with the drinks. “There you go—knowing folks’ business. That’s not a bad thing, now, is it?”

Laurie pulled her soda close and picked up a long spoon. “No. I just don’t like the thought that we’re collecting gossip or any such nonsense.”

“Of course. Gossiping would be rude, but what if you overheard information that someone was in trouble?”

Laurie frowned. “What sort of trouble?”

“Let’s say an emergency or . . . ” he paused, “or a matter for the police, perhaps?”

“I suppose we would contact the authorities. We called the hospital for old Mrs. Jenkins last year when she was feeling ill.” Laurie rolled the straw between her fingers.

“What about something illegal?”

Laurie dropped her hand back to her lap. “If someone asked, I could connect them to the police department.”

Mr. Brown pushed his drink back. “Let me lay it on the table for you, Miss Burke. What if you overheard someone discussing illegal behavior? Would you contact the police?”

The sweet drink turned sour in Laurie’s mouth. “Mr. Brown, as I said, we do not listen in on conversations. I don’t see any way that I would ‘overhear’ something like that.”

His green eyes darkened, like dusk creeping over the forest. “I informed you and Miss White that I was in town on business, seeking information on possible rumrunning operations. I hope you are aware that if you have knowledge of such illegal activities, you’re obligated to share that with me or you could be considered guilty of aiding the criminals.”

Laurie’s heart jumped into her chest. “I don’t know what you mean.” She pushed the drink away and slid off of the stool. “And I don’t think I will be of any use to you, sir.”

Mr. Shepherd appeared at her side with a small bag. “Your headache powders, Miss Burke.” He stepped in front of Mr. Brown and lowered his voice. “I thought you might want them sooner, rather than later.”

“That’s very kind.” Laurie swallowed hard, gazing up into Mr. Shepherd’s gray eyes. “What do I owe you?”

“This one’s on me.”

Mr. Brown appeared at the pharmacist’s side, his fingers curling into a fist as he glared at the man.

Anxious to be away from both of them, she nodded. “Thank you, Mr. Shepherd. I’m grateful. And thank you for the soda, Mr. Brown.”

The agent slipped on his hat and tipped it to her. “I hope we can do it again sometime, Miss Burke. I’d like to talk to you more.”

She clenched the paper bag in her fingers.
I bet you do.

Chapter
8

L
aurie dug through her purse as she hurried home. The bootlegger
-

p
harmacist and the Prohibition agent—it figured that the two best-looking men in town were both off limits. She felt like a kitten being teased with a piece of string. She pulled out a pocket mirror and checked her reflection, cheeks blotchy and pink.

Mr. Brown’s no better than that Big Jerry.

A figure in the park across the street caught Laurie’s eye. Johnny strode toward the waterfront, his hands jammed into his trouser pockets, shoulders hunched.

She jammed the mirror into her pocket and hurried after him, catching Johnny as he arrived at the dock. “Going fishing?”

Dark circles surrounded his eyes, dull in the late afternoon shadows. “I wish I had time.”

Laurie pushed up the sleeves on her sweater. “So, where are you heading? Are you going out on a”—she glanced around the deserted dock—“a run?”

Lines scored Johnny’s forehead. “When did you turn into such a snoop?”

His words jabbed at her. “I’m the little sister. It’s my job. Remember?” She followed him along the dock to where his longboat bobbed in the water.

He gripped the rope, perching on the edge of the dock. “I’m not a kid anymore, Laurie. I’m entitled to a little privacy.”

She crossed her arms. “I’m not a kid, either. And yet you keep treating me like one—like I can’t handle the truth.”

He tossed the rope onto the boat and stepped in. “Sometimes you can’t. That ain’t my fault.”

Heat crawled up Laurie’s back. “I’m tougher than you give me credit for.”

He used the oar to push away from the edge. “And sometimes you’re too tough.” The splash of the oars increased as the boat drifted away, Johnny pulling harder strokes as he entered open water.

The breeze plastered her skirt back against her legs. She turned and walked back up the length of the dock. A burly figure stepped out from one of the larger boats. “Well, if it ain’t sweet lil’ Laurie.” Big Jerry blocked her path, solid as the dock’s wooden pilings.

Laurie’s throat tightened. “What do you want?”

“You and your brother exchanging information again?” He crossed his arms across his wide chest before leaning over to spit into the waves.

“He didn’t tell me anything.”

“Course not. He never says nothing to you, does he? But somehow you seem to keep turning up, like a bad penny.” He took a step toward her, his shadow crossing her path. “I saw you talking to that G-man. You looked mighty cozy in there, sipping sodas like lovers.” The man’s lip curled.

“We’re not—”

“Oh, no. You’re an unsullied little flower, aren’t you?” A booming laugh burst from his chest. “I know how you girls work. You’ve probably got a flask hidden in your garter.” He reached for her leg.

Laurie knocked his hand away. “Get away from me.”

A second laugh followed the first. “You’re the motherless daughter of a drunkard. Your brother is embracing his destiny. What makes you think you’re any better?”

Laurie reddened as she tried to push past him, the reek of the mill heavy on his clothes.

He grabbed her arm, lowering his voice to a hoarse whisper. “Listen here, kitten. Your brother is going to be the first to go to jail if that fed gets wind of what’s going down here. You need to think about where your loyalty lies.”

She wrenched her arm free, but he still blocked her path.

“You keep making pretty with that Brown fellow. Watch him. But you keep your mouth shut—got it?”

“Why should I?”

His dark eyes glinted. “Cause I’d hate to see your brother fall off the boat one of these nights. Halfway to foreign shores, if you know what I mean.”

Her stomach sank to her knees.

“Do we understand each other?” He placed a dirty finger under her chin.

Laurie spoke through clenched teeth. “Perfectly.”

Chapter
9

L
aurie stormed down the spit, kicking rocks as she walked.

Fetch my bottle. Mind your own business. Keep your mouth shut. Listen in on the bootleggers. Spy on the G-man.

She grabbed a handful of rocks and flung them out into the water. The lapping of the waves against the rocks soothed her nerves, but did little for the ache in her heart. Remembering Big Jerry’s threats, she reached for more stones.

A nearby bench beckoned. Laurie dragged herself over and flopped down. Was it wrong to reach for a better future? A bootlegger’s sister? A drunk’s daughter? She stared out at the waves as the sun dropped low on the far horizon.

To keep Johnny safe, she needed to convince both Jerry and the agent she would cooperate.

She tugged at a long stem of beach grass, pulling it loose and rolling it between her fingers. A massive cargo ship inched past, far out in the channel, sending waves crashing against the rocks. Laurie’s fingers itched to sketch the scene. If only she could direct every aspect of her life the way she controlled a pencil.

She pushed up to her feet, turning back toward town before she lost the last of the evening’s light.

If I’m to convince Samuel Brown, I’ll need to meet with him away from the soda fountain
. She stopped mid-stride. Big Jerry knew she had met with Samuel Brown. The information must have come from Mr. Shepherd.

An eye on the agent; an ear on the bootleggers.
A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth.
Maybe I can do both.

Daniel finished cleaning the icebox and lined it with a fresh supply of sawdust. Blowing on his fingers to thaw them, he walked to the front of the store and checked that the closed sign was visible in the window. Glancing out the window, he caught sight of Laurie Burke walking through town, her face practically glowing in the setting sun. The tension in his shoulders eased. She had seemed quite disturbed after her meeting with Samuel Brown.

Something about that man raised the hairs on the back of Daniel’s neck. Brown’s attitude was smug, like everyone in this town was beneath him.

Now, as he watched Laurie walk down the street, Daniel noticed a spring in her step and a glow to her lovely face. A peculiar sensation ran along his arms, like ants crawling across his skin. He shook himself, irritated by the surge of protectiveness that flooded through him, all for a woman that he barely knew. And what he did know about her was troubling. She was obviously strong enough to take care of herself. In fact, she had told him that once already.

Daniel turned away, making a last visual survey of the drugstore before he locked up for the night. He caught his reflection in the soda fountain mirror. Remembering those blue eyes gazing up at him in the mirror made his heart pitch in his chest.

He couldn’t warn her about Brown. But, maybe he could look up an old high school friend.

Daniel walked down through the older part of town, pressing the back of his hand against his nose to block the reek of the mill. Dilapidated old shacks and boardinghouses clung to the bluff overlooking Hollywood Beach like the residents clung to their meager life. While so much of the country rode the soaring wave of stocks and bonds, the people in this neighborhood still scrambled to pull together enough pennies to feed their families.

Weeds grew knee high between the shacks, except where they were smothered by piles of refuse. A rat skittered through one of the piles, turning a bold eye toward Daniel as he passed.

Daniel pulled the scrap of paper from his pocket, double-checking the address he’d recorded. Johnny evidently lived on the edge of this morass.
With a steady job and a lucrative rumrunning business, he should be able to afford better accommodations.

The address matched the last house on the street, its front walk littered with cigarette butts. Daniel shoved the paper in his pocket and took a deep breath before knocking.

Moments later, a short man yanked open the door about six inches and glared from the threshold, eyes red and watery. His sweat-stained shirt hung cockeyed on his thin frame, buttoned off-kilter. “Yeah?”

Daniel cleared his throat. “I’m looking for Johnny Burke.”

The door didn’t budge. “What do you want with him?” The rancid smell of his breath floated out onto the doorstep. “Who are you?”

Daniel took a step back, surveying the small man from the dooryard. Was this one of the rumrunners or just one of the recipients of their bounty? “My name is Shepherd. Johnny and I went to school together. I just thought I’d stop in and see him.”

The door opened a crack further, the man’s hand clamped along the edge. “He ain’t here. Try the docks.”

“Thank you.” Daniel tipped his hat, but the small man only grunted in reply, wiping the back of his hand under his bulging nose.

Daniel hurried away, convinced the defiant stare tracked him down the street. The air felt fresher and lighter by the water, though the smell of the pulp mill reached through every corner of town today—rich or poor. As he approached the boathouse, he noticed a long boat rowing into the bay. Daniel shoved his hands in his pockets and waited as the boat approached the dock, gliding in to a waiting slip.

Like everything else in this town, Johnny Burke appeared to be stuck in time, his lean, muscled frame changing little since high school, shoulders curved like a dog kicked once too often. As Daniel approached, Johnny tipped his head back, his light blue eyes missing the mischievous glint that had made their female classmates swoon and the teachers hot under the collar. “Help you?”

“Johnny—it’s Daniel. Daniel Shepherd.”

His friend cupped a hand over his brow to block the sun’s glare. “Daniel?” It took a moment for a smile to spread across his face—as if the muscles lacked practice.

Johnny sprang out onto the dock, his long legs unfolding. He tied the boat before grabbing Daniel’s hand and shaking it with vigor. “What are you doing in Port Angeles? You couldn’t wait to shake off the dust of this town.” He shook his head, his brows pulling down. “No one ever comes back.”

“Yes, well, my granddad is getting older and he needed some help with the store.” Daniel’s throat tickled as he watched the years tumble back down onto his friend’s shoulders.

“That place has been hopping for months—ever since Mr. Larson added the soda fountain. It sure brought some new life to this little town.” He retrieved his things from the boat and the pair made their way up the dock toward the shore. “My girl likes to spend every minute she can there.”

Daniel grinned. “I think I met your girl. Amelia White?”

The corners of Johnny’s lips lifted. “Yep. Don’t go getting any ideas.” He jabbed a finger at Daniel’s chest. “She’s mine.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it. Besides, you were always the one stealing girls from me back in school.”

“Yeah, well. I was the big man back then and you were the book worm.” He shrugged. “Now I’m just another mill rat and you’re the druggist with the celluloid collar.”

Daniel shifted uncomfortably. “She was in the drugstore just the other day, with your sister.”

Johnny hefted the bag over his arm. “Those two are thick as thieves, always have been.” He smiled again, reaching his hand out for Daniel’s shoulder. “It is good to see you. We should go fishing or something. You can catch me up on all the news of Seattle. I bet the parties are wild down there. You got a girl in the city?”

Daniel’s chest tightened. He didn’t want to think about Seattle
.
“No girl,” he said. “But fishing sounds great. I haven’t been since I left town.”

“We can fix that. I work late tonight, but I’m off tomorrow. Sound good?”

Daniel ran a hand through his hair. “You’re working a shift at the mill tonight?”

A shadow crossed his friend’s face. “Not exactly. I’m just helping some friends with a little job they got. You know, making some extra dough on the side.”

Just as I thought.
“Tomorrow would be fine.” He eyed Johnny’s longboat. “I’m not too handy with the oars. How about we take my granddad’s boat?”

Johnny’s eyes brightened as he glanced down the row to where the larger boats were moored. “He wouldn’t mind?”

Daniel shook his head. “He told me he rarely takes it out anymore. I can’t wait to hear all the Port Angeles news.”

Johnny laughed. “Well, that would take all of two minutes. You know nothing ever happens here.”

Daniel smiled. “Yeah, sure. Nothing.”