The Parting Glass (47 page)

I feel as if I know the young people you’ve so often written about, each of them as individual and promising as the first wild roses of the summer. Winds may batter and rains may lash, but the roses, fragrant and robust, are somehow better for the experience.

Not so, my dear brother, with the gentle souls of lovers.

For the moment, I can find nothing else to say.

Your loving sister,

Maura McSweeney

chapter 30

A
lthough he hadn’t been in attendance, Glen knew all about the Whiskey Island raid. The agents who had been there were peacock proud and not afraid to brag. In that one evening’s work they had waylaid enough premium liquor to dry up more than a dozen high-class speakeasies. The papers were full of it, and even though no one had proof that Tim McNulty was behind the shipment, it was widely speculated that the raid would put him out of business.

Two local men believed to be in McNulty’s employment had been captured, but both of them were bailed out before uttering even one useful syllable. A Canadian crew and their captain were in jail awaiting interpretations of international justice, and they weren’t talking, either. Still, the liquor was useless to McNulty now, and most likely so was some large portion of the money McNulty had agreed to pay the Canadians.

On hearing of his colleagues’ great adventure, Glen’s first thought was of Clare. McNulty was a bad father under any circumstances, but, distraught and anxious, he was bound to be even worse. Now Clare would be kept under lock and key, and meeting her would be impossible.

As it turned out, his worries were for nothing. He came home from work one evening just three days after the raid and found Clare waiting in the hallway of his apartment building.

“Clare.” He looked around, then unlocked his apartment door and pulled her inside. “What are you doing here?”

“Don’t worry, nobody followed me.”

“Are you sure? That guy who watches you is pretty thorough.”

“There’s a meeting tonight. Everybody’s there except a flunky who’s half-blind and lazy, too. He was sleeping when I left. Besides, I don’t think my father even remembers I’m supposed to be watched.”

Glen suspected he knew the agenda for McNulty’s meeting. “Are you all right?” He cupped her face in his hand and examined it. She looked tired, but she smiled.

“Oh, I am now. But things have been tense at home. I’m sure you know why.”

He didn’t want to talk about her father’s business. No matter what Clare was to Glen, she was also McNulty’s daughter. “I’ve been worried about you.”

“For the most part my father’s ignored me. He’s had more important things to think about. But I don’t know how much longer that will go on. I—” She sighed. “I have to be honest. I’ve been snooping, Glen.” She placed a finger over his lips when he started to speak. “No, don’t. I don’t like it any more than you do, but the truth is that if I don’t know what my father is up to, I can’t protect myself. I can’t protect
us.
”

Unfortunately, she was right. He couldn’t protest.

“He’s had a large financial setback,” Clare continued. “And the money wasn’t his. It belongs to men in Chicago, the same men Niall Cassidy works for.”

Until that moment, Glen, idealist to the core, had believed he could keep his job, his family’s saloon, and his love for Clare separate. Now he knew that was a fantasy. Because he couldn’t refuse to hear the rest of what she had to say. And once heard, he could not pretend ignorance. He was sworn to uphold the law.

He stepped away from her and reached in his pocket, removing the badge that he had foolishly believed he could balance with the other complications of his life. He set it on the table. “From this moment, I’m no longer a Treasury agent.”

“Glen, no.”

“Clare, it’s okay. I can’t be your husband and a booze agent, too. It’s been hard enough with my own family’s occupation. Impossible with yours.”

“Then I’ll go.” She turned as if to leave for the door.

“Stop.” He put his hands on her shoulders. “Don’t you know I’d rather have you than the job? Besides, we aren’t going to be able to stay in Cleveland. We need to go where we can’t be found. And once settled, out west or down south, I’ll apply for another job in law enforcement.”

She was shaking her head before he finished. “I’m asking you to give up too much. Your home, job, family.”

“I’ll give up everything for you—without a backward glance. I have no choice. I love you. That’s the one thing I can’t walk away from.”

She faced him, but reluctantly. “It’s so much, too much.”

“Not nearly enough. I’ll do anything to keep you.”

She still looked torn. “Whatever we do, darling, we have to do it soon. The men I spoke of, the ones from Chicago, are coming the day after tomorrow to collect their money. That’s what the meeting is about. My father is trying desperately to come up with what he owes them. But he isn’t going to be able to. Not right away. He has to sell everything, including our house, and that takes time. Even then, he might come up short.”

“And they aren’t patient men.” Glen knew that.

“I’m afraid I’m the bargaining chip.”

Glen felt as if he’d been punched. “With Cassidy?”

“Niall has enough clout with his bosses to keep them at bay for a while.
If
he’s a happy man. And I’m the only thing that will make him happy.”

“You know this for sure?”

“I heard enough to put it together. My father’s frantic enough to sacrifice me on any altar. Cassidy’s is the most appealing at the moment.”

“The bastard.”

She didn’t ask to which man he referred.

Glen wondered at the greed of a man like McNulty, who would put his life and the happiness of his only daughter at stake this way. The loss of the Canadian hooch had been more than he could absorb, but from the beginning, he must have known the risks. He was a gambler of the worst kind.

“Tomorrow,” Glen said. “I’ll go to Father McSweeney tonight, and I’ll tell him everything. I’ll ask him to marry us without the usual announcements. If he refuses, I’ll find a justice of the peace, but we’ll be married tomorrow night. Then we’ll disappear.”

“I have some money. My mother always hid money away for a rainy day, and after she died, I added to it whenever I could. It’s a small nest egg, but it will help.”

He was a traditional man who believed he should be able to support and care for his wife, but he was not a fool. “Someday I’ll be sure you get back every penny.”

“I consider my life with you a worthwhile investment.”

He kissed her, hard. She pressed herself against him. When they parted, each was breathing faster.

“Tomorrow?” she whispered.

He wanted her now. Not tomorrow after the ceremony, but now, here in his apartment. He had never been so tempted to go against everything he believed in.

With great effort he turned his back on her. “Yes, tomorrow.”

“Where shall I meet you?”

“I want my family there, Clare. I want them to meet you before we disappear. Are you willing?”

“Of course!”

“Then we’ll be married at the saloon.”

“You can make the arrangements so quickly?”

“With their help. And they will help. Can you be there tomorrow about dark? Will you be able to get away?”

She nodded. “Glen, once this is settled, once my father cools off, maybe we can come back.”

He knew the only way they would ever be able to come back to Cleveland was if her father was killed or imprisoned. And even then, Niall Cassidy would still be looking for her. He wasn’t a man who would ever take rejection in stride.

“Stranger things have happened.” He took a deep breath and faced her, but he was careful not to touch her again. “Wherever we live, we’ll have each other and children and a life we can be proud of.”

“It will be enough?”

He touched her hair. One quick touch. “Please believe me. More than enough.”

Clare spent the next morning preparing to go away with Glen. She had so little she wanted to bring with her that one suitcase was all she needed. She packed her mother’s wedding dress to wear that evening, photos of her mother and one of her father as a young man holding his baby daughter. She hoped he’d been a different person in those early days of his marriage, a man not yet corrupted. It was small comfort, but a thought to hold on to.

She packed a few clothes, the money she’d told Glen about, her mother’s rosary and missal, and the personal items she would need. She was coming into the marriage with so little, but in a way she wished she had less. She was sorry she had to bring anything of her life with her father along. She planned to replace every piece of clothing the moment she could.

She was preparing to dress for the day when someone knocked on her bedroom door. Before she could ask whoever it was to come in, the door opened and her father entered.

She was glad she’d hidden the suitcase. As a child, she had learned that anything personal, anything important, had to be kept secret. That had served her well today.

“Why aren’t you dressed?” he demanded.

This was one instance when the truth would serve no one but the man in front of her, and she lied without qualm. “I had a headache. I decided to take my time and see if it might go away.”

“Your health seems precarious these days, daughter. Or have you just become adept at making excuses?”

“It was only a headache. I don’t think it’s contagious or fatal.” She smiled so he would know she was treating it lightly.

“You feel better now?”

She was feeling worse by the moment. She wondered why she had remained in this man’s house for so long. Why hadn’t she taken her life in her own hands?

“I’m okay,” she said. “I think I just need some breakfast. I’ll dress and come downstairs. You must have eaten hours ago.”

“Do you have any idea what’s going on around here?” He pounded a fist on the closest piece of furniture, which happened to be her vanity table. Cut-glass bottles leaped and slid in protest.

She was not afraid. She lifted her chin. “And how would I know? Have you ever included me in anything important?”

His eyes narrowed. “You like living here, don’t you? You like having anything you want. You like the way people look at you and know you’re somebody!”

She knew he was spoiling for a fight. She also knew that if she gave him one, her whole future could change for the worse. And yet she wanted to tell him what she thought of the life he had given her. She wanted, just once, to tell Tim McNulty how she despised the man he had become, despised her own father and everything he stood for.

She opened her mouth to tell him so, then realized that if she did, she would never be allowed to leave the house tonight.

“I’ve never complained, have I?” She was only sorry it was true.

“Well, it’s about time you gave something back for everything I’ve given you, daughter.”

She knew exactly what he wanted her to give, but she feigned ignorance. “I thought caring for the house, making sure all your personal needs were attended to, was a way of giving something back.”

He stared, and a muscle jumped in his cheek. Clearly he was torn. He wanted to continue lashing out at her, because at heart her father was a bully. But he was also a clever man who knew that this encounter needed a little finesse.

“Your mother taught you well in that regard,” he said with obvious effort. “You’ll make a good wife.”

Yes, she thought, and sooner than he knew.

“Niall Cassidy has his eye on you,” he said at last. His voice was softer, more a plea than a demand.

“I know.”

“It would help me if you would encourage him.”

“Encourage him?”

“His intentions are honorable, Clare. He wants a wife. I’m not asking you to do anything your beloved church would disapprove of. Tell him you’ll marry him.”

“He hasn’t asked.”

“He’s coming this afternoon!” Tim threaded fingers through his oiled hair. “And I need you to play up to him a little, let him know you’re willing…to marry him.”

“This afternoon?”

“What do you think I just said!”

“I’m just surprised, that’s all. It’s terribly short notice, isn’t it?”

“It doesn’t matter what kind of notice you have! Give the man what he wants.”

“Why don’t you just put an apple in my mouth and serve me on a silver platter?”

He lifted his hand to strike her but seemed to think better of it. “I will not have you talk to me that way in my own house!”

“It’s a fair enough question. Are you even a little bit interested in my feelings about this?”

He frowned, as if the idea had never crossed his mind. “He’s an up-and-comer, in with people who can make him a rich man, and your marriage will benefit me. Besides, he’ll make sure you have everything you’ve ever wanted, just the way I have.”

There was so much she could have said to that, but she knew better. She had said enough already.

It took everything she had inside her to smile gently. “I just want to know that the way I feel about this is important to you.” She placed her fingers lightly on his arm. “I want to know I’m important.”

He made a noise low in his throat, as if to clear it of any latent sentimentality. “Just tell me what you’re planning to do. Because if you don’t do what I’m asking—”

She cut off his threat. “I’ll encourage Niall. This must be very important to you.”

He took her response as his due. “Yes, well. Wear something pretty, and tell him yes when he asks you to marry him.”

The absurdity of this struck her. She, who had seriously considered entering the convent before she met Glen Donaghue, was now about to be engaged to two men simultaneously. At least for a matter of hours.

It seemed so absurd that the dishonesty and even the danger of such a move seemed inconsequential, even funny. She was living a bad joke. Once she disappeared, Cassidy deserved whatever disappointment he experienced. And her father? She waited for a pang of filial affection. Guilt was the only possible antidote to the lies she was preparing to tell.