Shine On (24 page)

W
alter called her that night to be sure she made it home okay… and that she was alone. He didn’t ask too many questions but she could tell by his tone he was uneasy. The next few days passed painfully slow. Too much time to think and only her dog to talk to. She threw herself into making the costumes. Ava’s was finished. It was stunning. Ava had asked her to create a headpiece with a black fabric candle to go with the full pumpkin skirt. Emmie thought that may be a bit much, but that was Ava. So, she did what she was asked from leftover material she’d used to make the black bodice.

She’d stayed up until the wee hours of the morning working on her own costume. It was difficult to pin your own body, so she’d invited Ava over yesterday as a stand-in. Of course their bodies were totally different. She was mostly just guessing, but it was looking pretty. Ava convinced her to make a tiny witch-themed fascinator. Her dress was basic—brown, with black lace. She intentionally made it look like a regular drop-waisted dress, veering a little off the pattern. If she had black silk and lace, she wasn’t going to waste it on a dress she would wear only one night. She put a little silver ribbon accents around the neckline and hem. But she just used a whipstitch, something that could easily be removed later without doing too much damage to the dress. With her hat and the small broom she’d crafted from a branch and some old straw, folks would get the drift she was a witch. And if they didn’t, she didn’t really care. She was just using the dresses and easy conversation about the party as a distraction.

Emmie had woken early, despite only a few hours of sleep the night before. She drank her last swallow of coffee, scratched Spotty’s ears, and turned to head out the door. He followed her outside and to the store, just like he always did. His face was smiling and his tongue rolled out of his mouth. When she reached the store, she pointed to the bench just outside. Spotty took his usual place under it while he waited for her. Perhaps this is who she was to become… an old maid… a lady surrounded only by her pets… a dog lady.

When she entered the store, she noticed Will looked worse for wear. She tried to engage him in conversation but he avoided every attempt. Sometimes he just blatantly ignored her. Emmie had absolutely no idea what was going on. She felt she was physically repelling people now.

“Will?” She made his name a question.

He didn’t answer just looked up at her waiting for her to continue to speak.

“Not that it’s any of my business but is everything alright?” she asked.

He shrugged his shoulders in reply and went back to working.

An awkward silence ate up some time in-between a couple customers. Will let out what must be the third yawn since he got there that morning. This last one was loud. She heard his back pop as he stretched his shoulders.

“If you want to go take an early lunch break, I can handle this,” she offered.

He sighed and put his hands on the counter thinking it over.

“You really wouldn’t mind?” he asked.

She shook her head. “Not at all.”

“Thanks Emmie. I’ll be back in twenty minutes, I promise.” And he walked out the room and into the side parlor she used to use for sewing. Emmie was surprised he didn’t head upstairs to his apartment. He dropped right down on the small sofa and was snoring in about five minutes.

Nearly an hour passed but she didn’t have the heart to wake him. Anyone that tired needed to sleep.

***********

“Emma? Where is Will?” Mr. Thomas asked in a clipped voice, his eyes searching the store. She smiled and pointed to the side room. Peering in there he could just see Will’s long legs draped over the side of the sofa and hear the faintest rumble of a snore.

“He was so exhausted. I told him I could take care of things for a bit. It has really not been that busy. I’m all caught up, so I’ve just been unpacking these dishes,” she explained. But he wasn’t listening. As he moved past her into the parlor he spit, “That wasn’t your decision to make, Emma.”

“Get up,” Mr. Thomas shouted.

Will awoke startled, taking in his surroundings for a moment.

“What the hell were you thinking? I pay to you work, not lie around here and sleep like some lazy dog,” Mr. Thomas shouted.

Emmie wasn’t sure if she should intervene or not. Maybe they’d had some sort of quarrel she didn’t know about it.

“Lazy?” Will said incredulously. “Lazy?” he repeated a little louder. “You really have the balls to call me lazy? You sign us up for this bullshit but I’m the only one I see out all night long.”

Emmie tried not to listen to the family fight. It was none of her business. She moved further away from the parlor and began putting the dishes on a shelf. “You promised me we’d be making good money. We’d be doing what was right and just. But I ain’t seen a dime and it don’t feel right and just, out there stalking folks.”

“Will, you know this is for the best. And there will be money,” Mr. Thomas whispered. “We’ve almost got it.”

“We? We? Paul, we haven’t almost got anything,” Will whispered. “It was my ass camped out all night at the shoe store, not yours. Then you expect me to be here first thing in the morning all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. I can’t do it anymore.” Will took off his white linen work apron and threw it on the ground.

“Will, think about your actions,” Mr. Thomas said, sounding more like a father than a brother.

Will laughed. “You think I haven’t been thinking about my actions?” He leaned in a whispered to his brother just barely loud enough so Emmie could still hear, “I don’t think it was you that got chased away by the shotgun-toting sheriff at two o’clock this morning, was it? Think about that, brother.”

Emmie dropped the plate she was putting on the shelf—the sheriff.

Will turned and stormed upstairs to his room, his loud feet pounding. The light fixtures shook on the ceiling above them as he charged into his room. Emmie walked to the back room to find the broom and dustpan to sweep up the broken glass. She hoped they hadn’t noticed she overheard their fight.

When she walked back into the store, she found Mr. Thomas standing over the mess she’d made.

“I’m sorry about that. I’ll pay for it,” she apologized. “Sometimes I’m clumsy.” She tried to add an easy smile but he didn’t smile back.

“Emmie. I’ll ask you to use discretion with any of that conversation that you may have overheard. It’s important business we’re up to.” He grabbed her arms and bent down a little so they were eye level. “Business that would make you proud.” His smile looked off. She didn’t know what to say or do, but just nodded and turned to start cleaning up the mess.

The rest of the morning her mind was abuzz trying to process the fight she’d overheard. Will had been chased by a shotgun-toting sheriff. A sick feeling in her stomach told her it was Drake.

Sheriff Drake was the one who came to tell her about Ronnie. It was from his lips that she learned about his crash. He’d even walked with her to see smoldering remains of the car. He seemed like such a nice man that day. Now, she knew he protected the moonshiners. He was the kind of man that let grown men pull guns on each other while he stood by and watched. Her feelings were all mixed up. What could Will and Mr. Thomas be into that would make Sheriff Drake chase him?

***********

“Emma, if you want to take your lunch, I’ll watch the store for a bit.” Mr. Thomas had been all pleasantries since his argument with Will this morning, walking around like a peacock with his tail feathers out. Why in the world would he be so happy that she’d overheard his conversation?

“I think I’ll just step outside for a bit. I could use the air.” Emmie was glad that he had offered to let her have lunch today. She wasn’t sure she’d get one since Will had stormed off. Most of the time, if Will was away, she ate at the store counter or not at all.

Emmie looked under the bench for Spotty but he was nowhere to be found. He’d probably gone to sniff trash bins, hoping for a handout. Goodness knows he wasn’t going to get it from Mr. Thomas. She aimlessly walked around downtown until she found herself in the center of the square on a weathered black iron bench. She took in her surroundings: Mr. Thomas’s Shop, DeCarmilla Law Firm, the restaurant for the potluck where she’d learned about the sheriff. And that’s when her eyes spotted it—Dillard Brother’s Shoes. Will said he’d been outside of the shoe store last night. And there it was, nestled right in-between the restaurant and the law firm. Just across the block from the store she worked at everyday. Shops. Secrets. Lies. It was like she didn’t even know where she lived anymore. Somehow she’d worked herself right into the middle of it.

She stood and walked toward the shoe store, unsure exactly what she was looking for. Nothing looked abnormal to her here. She pretended to be peering into the windows. When she reached the edge of the building she found a small narrow alley that separated the law firm from the shoe store. Her heels clicked loudly on the brick path beneath her feet. The sound echoed off the buildings. She kept a close eye on the exterior of the shoe store. Was she looking for a door maybe? Nothing seemed abnormal. When she reached the back of the store everything looked normal there too. It was just some men carrying crates through a brown door into their storeroom. She was probably just being paranoid. Maybe she had misunderstood what Will had said or maybe it was another shoe store. She tried to recall the locations of other shoe stores in town.

But just when she was getting ready to turn around, someone rounding the corner caught her eye. He was short, about her height, with tan skin. It was his eyes that really caught her attention. They were the most stunning shade of warm chocolate. Piercing. She knew them at once. It was the same eye she’d seen peering back at them through the peephole in Smith’s Grove. He was the man from the speakeasy. He tipped his hat to her and walked back to talk to the men unloading boxes. The young fellow she’d just passed spoke to the others, the tall middle-aged man looked up at her. He waved and walked over to her.

“Can I help ya miss?” His voice was not unkind. She was sure she had no reason to be nervous but her heartbeat pounded in her ears.

“Oh, sorry, I just got turned around. The entrance is this way,” Emmie smiled and then spun on her heels. She tried to act nonchalant as she walked back down the brick path. The man’s footsteps clicked loudly behind her. He was following her. She picked up her pace nearing the end of the alley. Ten more feet and she would back into the crowded comfort of the town square. She wasn’t afraid exactly, just uneasy. For once, she wished Spotty was close on her heels.

As her foot inched out into the sunlight of the square once again, a dark shadow appeared in front of her. She was blocked. Emmie screamed and jumped back into the alley.

Chapter Thirty-six

“Y
ou will walk with me.” His familiar fingers bit into her arm as he turned her body and then led her back down the alley.

“Lord have mercy, Silas, you liked to have given me a heart attack,” she laughed.

“Thanks, James. I’ve got this,” Silas said, walking past the man who had followed her down the alley.

“What have you got? Silas, I have to head back to the shop. I’ve only got a few minutes of lunch left.” she continued.

He said nothing just kept right on leading her to the end of the alley. He stopped when they reached the back of the buildings. Then spun around on his heel and faced her. Emmie took a step back until her back rested against the brick wall of the law firm.

“What are you doing?” he asked with an arched eyebrow. Clearly he was still angry with her.

“Enjoying my lunch break with a little walk downtown. I just needed some air,” she sassed him, feigning innocence. Emmie didn’t appreciate his tone or the fact he hadn’t called in days.

“Really, in this alley, you’re getting fresh air?” he asked sarcastically.

She nodded, batting her eyes.

He glanced over at the guys unloading boxes. Silas leaned in closer and rested one arm against the wall beside her. To the men it may have looked like they were in some sort of lovers embrace but his eyes suggested differently.

“Emmie. I don’t care how doe-eyed you are trying to appear right now. I know you were not just walking down this alley for fresh air. Do you know why I am here and not up there?” He pointed up to an open window of one of the offices of the law firm.

She shook her head and did her best to look disinterested in whatever he was about to say.

“Because I got a call from the shoe store saying some crazy young lady was staring in the shop windows and snooping around the back alley,” he informed her.

“Pish… that cannot be true,” she laughed, “I was only down here for a few minutes and I most certainly did not look crazy. Besides, there wouldn’t have been time for someone to call you.”

She looked up at him but his eyes were serious. Then she realized something strange about what he’d just told her.

“Why would the shoe store call you? Why not the police?” she asked.

This time he did smile but it didn’t meet his eyes. “Are you ready to tell me who the mystery bootlegger is that you’ve been giving moonshine to and having late night parties with?”