Chapter Twenty-One #2
Just hoping to survive wasn’t enough for her. Not anymore.
She was about to turn back to the bar—Danny was giving her a stern look, warning her it was time to get back to work—when a figure on the other side of the dance floor caught her eye.
Had someone actually let Bruiser George into the Nightingale?
Vivian craned her neck, trying to spot him through the crowd; when she couldn’t, she began to push her way across the dance floor.
Good-natured curses and an occasional sharp “Watch it!” followed her.
But she dodged between the dancing couples, glancing around breathlessly as she reached the other side.
He wasn’t there.
Vivian frowned, spinning in a circle as she stared at all the people around her. None of them were George. None of them even looked enough like him to have been mistaken for him from across a crowded, dimly lit room.
Had she imagined him?
“Viv?”
The quiet voice at her elbow made her jump. “Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, Ellie, don’t sneak up on a girl like that,” she gasped, trying to laugh off her nervousness.
“Sorry.” Mousy, pretty little Ellie gave her a hesitant smile, but she couldn’t manage to hold on to it for long.
Her face fell into something far more serious as she scooted closer.
“I heard you and Bea talking about some letters, just now. I think I know the ones you’re talking about. Someone’s making people—”
“Wait a sec,” Vivian said quickly, glancing around.
She still didn’t see anyone who looked like Bruiser George, but she didn’t want to take any chances.
Across the room, she could see another waitress just ducking into the dressing room on her break.
Vivian gave Ellie a little push toward the door to the back hall. “Let’s talk out in the alley.”
Vivian glanced around when they got outside, using her foot to slide a stray brick in front of the door to prop it open a little.
The electric light from inside the club spilled out, jumping over stacked crates and colliding with the walls that surrounded the narrow, gloomy space.
There was no one else out there, but Vivian pulled Ellie a few steps away from the door, just in case.
“What do you know about letters?” Vivian asked, keeping her voice down.
“I heard Alba talking about them a couple days ago,” Ellie said quietly. “The ones that say to hand over something you own that’s valuable if you don’t want something bad to happen. That the same thing you and Bea were talking about?”
“Yeah,” Vivian said cautiously. “Why do you ask?”
“I know someone who got one of those,” Ellie said, wrapping her arms around herself as she spoke, as if what she was saying scared her.
“I have a neighbor—you might’ve met her, she’s been here a couple times.
Anyway, one day I was over helping out with her sister’s baby, and she had this paper that she was carrying around, a letter.
She’d take it out and read it and look terrified every time she did.
So I asked to see it. See, she used to have this really beautiful ring that she always wore, I think it was pretty valuable.
And that was what was in the letter. Since I’d heard people talking about those letters, I told her to hand it over. ”
“That sounds…” Vivian trailed off, frowning. “Where do you live, Ellie?”
“About a mile north of here,” Ellie said, looking confused. “Why?”
It wasn’t in Vivian’s neighborhood, but it wasn’t too far away. That fit with what Hattie had told her about a new operation popping up in their part of the city. “Nothing. What happened to your neighbor? She okay?”
“So far. But I didn’t know if she should still be worried. And since it sounded like you and Bea might know something … I don’t know, I just want to be sure no one’s gonna cause her any more trouble.”
“I don’t know anything for sure,” Vivian admitted. “But could I maybe go talk to your neighbor? Could you tell me where she lives?”
“I mean, I could,” Ellie said slowly. “But I’d probably need to go with you. Unless you know the signing language? She’s mostly deaf.”
“Oh.” Vivian frowned. “I don’t. Do you?”
“A bit. I asked Honor to teach me some when I started working here,” Ellie said.
Vivian blinked in surprise. She knew there were folks out there who used signs to communicate. But it had never occurred to her that the club’s hand signs might be part of that language—or that Honor might have a reason to know it. “Why does Honor know how to sign?”
Ellie shrugged. “Didn’t ask, I figured it wasn’t any of my business. I was just glad she could show me some, because no one else around here except my neighbor’s sister knows them. I could take you to talk to my neighbor, I suppose. She can read lips pretty good. Tomorrow, if you want?”
“Yeah … yeah.” Vivian nodded decisively.
If she was going to talk to the pawnbroker about the necklace, she wanted to know what that ring looked like, too.
She didn’t need to keep wondering about Honor Huxley, who had made it clear how things stood between them.
That was a brick wall she was tired of running into.
Whatever Honor’s secrets were, she could keep them. “Tomorrow, okay?”
When Vivian finally made it back to the bar, Danny raised his eyebrows at her. “Something going on that Hux and I should know about?”
“I don’t think your Hux wants any more to do with it,” Vivian said, trying to sound like she didn’t care one way or another.
It didn’t fool Danny. “She told me you two had a rough night,” he said quietly, leaning his elbows on the bar. He had his serious face on, a rarity when he was working. “But if there’s something more going on, she’ll want to know.”
Vivian shrugged. “Nothing new to worry about.”
Danny gave her a long look, then nodded.
“If you say so, kitten. But don’t go getting yourself in a jam just because you’re too proud to ask for help.
” He hesitated, then added, “She’s hard to get close to, Viv.
There’s plenty even I don’t know about her, and I know more than just about anyone. Don’t take it personal.”
Vivian held her hands firmly by her sides, resisting the urge to touch her lips as she thought about Honor kissing her in the street, scared and relieved and angry all at once.
I can’t afford to give myself that kind of weakness, she had said, with no regret in her voice, no nothing, just quiet and firm and resigned.
“Nothing personal about it at all,” Vivian agreed, smiling even as her chest felt like someone was squeezing it.
She nodded toward the drinks he was fixing. “Where are those two headed?”
He smiled at last. “Fella in the corner table. Why don’t you take them over?”
“Sure thing.” Vivian took the tray bearing a glass of champagne and a whiskey cocktail, balancing it carefully as she wound her way through the crowd. The man at the corner table had his back to her when she arrived. “Ready for your order, mister?” she asked.
He tipped back his head to look up at her, a wide smile spreading over his face, and Vivian couldn’t stop herself smiling in response. “Hey, Leo. Good to see you all in one piece.”
“You too, Viv. That one’s for you,” he added, tipping his chin toward the champagne. “Danny said you could take ten for a drink and a dance if you wanted.”
“Well, I won’t say no to that. Lord knows I could use both after the last twenty-four hours.” She sat, then leaned down to surreptitiously loosen the ribbons on her shoes under the table. “You sure you’re okay after last night?”
“Right as rain,” Leo said, taking a drink and leaning back in his chair.
“Not much scary about the drunk tank when you know how to get out quick. And better I ended up there than you. Or Ms. Huxley,” he added, almost as an afterthought.
“Gonna tell me what else happened last night? I wasn’t worried about me, but I was thinking about you the whole time. ”
“It was…” Vivian hesitated, turning her glass in slow circles.
“It was quite a night. And it’s been quite a day since then.
” She took a drink, then leaned forward, dropping her voice as she filled him in on what had happened after his arrest. Leo listened in silence, though she could see his hands tighten into fists, and when she mentioned almost being shot he was so agitated that he pushed back from the table and stood up.
“But you’re all right?” he demanded, pacing two steps away, then coming back abruptly. Taking his seat once more, he downed the rest of his drink, grimacing at the burn of the whiskey before leaning forward to take her hands. “Viv, how could you—”
“I know,” she said. She pulled her hands away, but she did it gently. “But it worked out fine, okay? And listen…” She hesitated, taking another drink before she leaned forward again. “Any chance you’d be up for a visit to a pawnbroker tomorrow?”
Vivian’s deliveries were quick the next morning, and it was easy enough to hop off the elevated line heading south once she was done.
She couldn’t help glancing over her shoulder as she did, though, still checking the streets behind her as she walked and scanning the faces on the platform to see if anyone was following her.
She knew, logically, that the men from the other night had a history of using poison, or other deaths that looked like accidents, rather than following and attacking someone in broad daylight.
But she kept looking over her shoulder anyway.
She didn’t want anyone to find her. And she didn’t want to lead anyone to where she and Florence were staying.
But there was no one suspicious on the train platform, and no one who seemed intent on following her when she got off and hurried through the crowd back down to the street level.
The rails clattered overhead as the train headed toward the next stop, and Vivian checked the scrap of paper that had the address she was looking for scribbled on it.