Chapter Twenty-Eight
TWENTY-EIGHT
They didn’t stop moving until they were half a dozen blocks away, Leo and Vivian half carrying Bea to put as much distance between themselves and Dr. Harris’s office as quickly as they could.
“I’m going to throw up,” Bea suddenly announced, and Leo steered them into a gap between buildings where Bea sank to her knees, her hands braced against the wall.
He politely averted his eyes, shielding them from view with his body.
But Vivian held her friend’s head between her hands as she emptied everything out of her stomach.
“Are you sure she’s going to be okay?” Vivian asked, wiping Bea’s face and mouth with her handkerchief and helping her stand. Bea was shaking, her eyes glazed and unfocused, but she didn’t seem like she was about to collapse again.
“She should be, yeah. It might take a while to wear off, and she’s probably going to want to spend the rest of the day sleeping.
But I don’t think we need to worry.” Leo put one arm around Bea’s waist. “Whistle us up a cab, Viv. She needs to get home, and if we carry her all the way there we’re going to get attention we don’t want. ”
“We can’t just let him go,” Bea insisted, her anger clear in spite of the slur to her voice. “We’ve got no reason to trust him. He could change his mind. He could be planning to get rid of us all to keep his secret.”
“Don’t worry, this isn’t done,” Leo said firmly.
“I’ve got people I can talk to. I’ll figure out a way to nail him.
I can talk to the coroner again. And if I need to, I’ll drag his name into it next time my uncle asks me to look into something.
” He reached out to give Vivian’s hand a squeeze.
“I’m not going to let anything happen to either of you. ”
“He’s already got the cops on his side,” Bea pointed out as a cab pulled over for them.
“Yeah, but his dad’s leaving the city. And I know the commissioner,” Leo quipped as he opened the door.
“Not her,” the cabbie said, glaring suspiciously as they were about to help Bea slide in. “I’m not taking her if she’s going to be sick all over my car.”
“She just fainted is all,” Vivian said quickly. “Too hot out here.”
“Not my problem,” the cabbie sniffed.
Leo wordlessly handed over a few bills. The cabbie counted the money, sniffed again, and shrugged. “Fine then, load her up.”
“Guess I’ll have to start liking you after this,” Bea mumbled once they were all in the back seat, leaning unsteadily against Leo’s side, her eyelids drooping. She glanced at Vivian. “And I guess maybe you and Florence can head home.”
Vivian sat with her purse in her lap, heavy with the weight of the gun. She didn’t want to live with the guilt of killing a man in cold blood. But now she had to live with the guilt of letting him get away with what he had done. And he would always be there, a threat hanging over their lives.
She stared out the window as the buildings began to slide by. “We’ll need to keep our eyes out,” she said slowly. “But I think you’re right. Tomorrow, it’ll be time to go home.”
She knew she couldn’t have shot him. But part of her still wished that she had.
Vivian was on edge when she got to the Nightingale for her shift that night.
Abraham had been at the Henrys’ house, waiting to talk to Bea, when Vivian and Leo hauled her up the stairs.
Whatever had been said between them before, he hadn’t asked questions or hesitated before swooping in to carry her to her room and sit anxiously by her side as she slept for the rest of the afternoon.
When she woke up at last, she was still woozy, but there were no other lingering effects from what Dr. Harris had given her.
Luckily, Mrs. Henry had been at work all day, otherwise Vivian would have had to decide how much to tell her, and that was a call she didn’t want to make on her own.
It had been hard enough choosing to tell Abraham, but he wouldn’t be satisfied with less than the full story.
And as worried as he was, Vivian didn’t feel right keeping him in the dark.
Alba, whose pregnancy was just beginning to show, had alternated being sick and caring for Bea all day, and she announced that neither of them were coming to work that night.
“But Abraham will drive you, Viv,” she said, giving him a pointed glance.
“I don’t know what you girls got up to today, but you should maybe not be wandering around at night by yourself. ”
“Sure thing,” Abraham agreed, though he didn’t look happy about it. Vivian wondered if he would ever forgive her for her suspicions, justified though they had been.
It probably depended on whether Bea forgave him or not.
But he had taken her home to get ready for work, then to the Nightingale, driving in heavy silence that Vivian was too nervous to break.
She felt odd and uncomfortable, sitting alone in the back seat, sure she was costing him a fare that he could have put to good use.
But he didn’t protest. And they both knew it could have led to trouble if someone peeked into the car and saw her sitting next to him in the front seat.
It wasn’t until he had parked a few doors down from the Nightingale’s back-alley entrance that Abraham finally spoke. Lighting two cigarettes, he handed one to her and took a long drag of his. “You think she’s going to be okay?”
“Right as rain in a day or two, I’m sure,” Vivian said quickly. She trusted Leo’s assessment, though she couldn’t shake her own worry for her friend. “I’m just worried about what she’s going to want to do afterward.”
All the windows in the car were rolled down, and Abraham slowly blew a stream of smoke out his. “I won’t let her do anything that’ll get her hurt.”
“You’re a good fella, Abraham,” Vivian said, meaning it. Everyone kept secrets. Everyone did things they weren’t proud of. He was no different. And he loved her friend.
He met her eyes in the mirror. “We’ll see if Bea agrees with you.”
When Vivian finally made her way inside, Danny was in the middle of doing inventory.
Most of the staff hadn’t arrived yet, but the band was running through a couple new songs.
They had a new bass player, a skinny kid with thick glasses who looked extra scrawny next to his instrument but played with plenty of style.
Danny listened to Vivian in silence, then wiped the sweat from his forehead.
“Damn. Mr. Smith won’t be happy,” he said, glancing at the bandleader.
“Bea’s a real draw now; there’s folks who come just to hear her sing.
” He shook his head. “One of these days, some big-name place is going to snatch her up.” His gaze sharpened.
“Is there more to it than just her being sick?”
“Yes,” Vivian said quietly.
Danny nodded. “Any of that trouble likely to follow you here tonight?”
Vivian shivered. Dr. Harris had as much reason to avoid her as she had to avoid him.
If he wanted to make trouble, she suspected he was more likely to wait a few days until she let down her guard.
But his father had been a cop. And she had no idea whether he knew where she and Bea worked.
“Maybe tell the boys on the door to keep an eye out for any plainclothes trying to sneak in. Just in case.”
Danny’s expression grew alarmed. “Kitten, don’t tell me you and Bea were messing around with the police? What were you thinking?”
“Not on purpose,” Vivian said, wincing. “But sometimes it’s hard not to stumble over a crooked cop in this city.”
Danny blew out a slow breath. “All right. Hux has a few friends of her own on the force. I’ll tell her to give them a call and keep an eye on things for us.
And I’ll go tell Mr. Smith his star isn’t coming tonight.
” He headed toward the bandstand, giving her shoulder a comforting squeeze as he passed.
“Cheer up, kitten. We’ll keep you safe. It’s what we do around here. ”
“Did you see Florence before you came to work tonight?” Vivian asked.
He paused, giving her a worried look over his shoulder. “Is she in danger?”
“No, I just wanted … never mind. We’ve got work to do.” Vivian managed to give him a smile. “Thanks, Danny-boy.”
She didn’t have Danny’s knack for spotting an undercover cop, but Vivian still kept an eye on the door and her things behind the bar, in case she needed to make a quick getaway.
But the night unfolded with the Nightingale’s normal playful, sultry energy.
She overheard a few grumbles as she wove through the crowd, from folks who were disappointed not to hear Bea sing.
Beatrice Bluebird, she heard more than one person call her, with no idea where the name had come from.
Danny or Honor, she suspected, trying to capitalize on Bea’s growing popularity.
By the time her second break rolled around, she had relaxed enough to accept an invitation to dance, just as the band struck up an easy foxtrot.
It was one they played nearly every night, and it had become a running game at the Nightingale that every time the chorus rolled around, everyone had to switch partners.
It was just the distraction that Vivian needed for a few minutes.
When the last chorus began, there was a wild scramble. Laughing, Vivian’s current partner twirled her toward someone new, who caught her around the waist before she could see who it was. A little dizzy, she blinked rapidly and shook her head to clear it.
And then she froze. The man who had caught her was Bruiser George.
“Hello, there, girlie,” he said, smiling. “Surprised to see me?”