Quicksilver Passion (36 page)

Brett stood up, amusement on his handsome face.
A cleaning girl? Oh, of course, Miss—?”

The slight blonde looked from one to the other.
Uh, Jones. Sylvia Jones,” she said.

Funny,” Brett said,
you look Swedish or Norwegian.”

Does it matter?” She seemed nervous and scared.

Al studied her, and decided she was just a kid, not more than seventeen, maybe. If he’d ever found a woman he cared about, who cared about him, Al might have had a daughter this girl’s age. When he looked at her, he saw the young, innocent sweetheart every half-grown boy dreams of and usually never gets.

Brett bowed with smooth charm.
Forgive my rudeness, Miss Jones. It just seems that with that dazzling hair, ‘Silver’ would be more appropriate.”

The girl blushed, then smiled, looking at Al with obvious curiosity.

Oh, forgive me, Miss Jones,” Brett said,
this is my right-hand man, Mr. Al Trovato.”

The girl curtsied prettily and Al nodded, curious as to how she would react when she realized too late what she had gotten herself into. The elegant mansion was known as the Velvet Kitten, a high-class brothel that catered to an elite, upper-class clientele.

Al had grown hard over the years because of his own past. He’d done time in jail, and had a job unloading crates in a warehouse when Brett first hired him as a bouncer. Gradually, Al had become more than Brett’s employee. He was Brett’s most trusted confidant. Now behind the girl’s back, Brett winked knowingly at him, then at Dallinger.

The scout would get a fat fee for bringing the girl in. An innocent-looking, fragile beauty like this one would put money in Brett’s pockets when wealthy businessmen and politicians came in for an evening’s amusement.

Brett said,
Miss Jones, did you say you have relatives in Chicago?”

No. I—I’m an orphan.”

Her wide, innocent eyes betrayed that she lied.
A runaway
, Al thought,
that was even better.
In a big city like Chicago, girls disappeared into whorehouses without a trace.

Dallinger pushed his hat back and scratched the bald spot where he’d been scalped.
Like I said, Mr. Brett, I found her on the street, hungry and cold. I told her I knew someone who needed a servant girl and she said she was used to hard work.”

That’s true,” the girl broke in eagerly.
Oh, Mr. Brett, I can cook and clean. I’d be ever so grateful for the chance!”