Chapter 36 Chicago, 1928—Remy #3
The musty air grew colder as they entered a different section of the maze.
Remy couldn’t tell if it extended the existing basement or was the foundation of an adjoining structure.
A ragged catch in Skye’s breathing sliced through the silence.
The raw terror she’d held at bay had finally surged to the surface, or perhaps the biting cold had finally numbed her toes to the point of agony.
He tightened his grip on her hand, providing a grounding presence.
Red Nose halted the group before another steel door, this one secured by both a mechanical combination lock and a keyhole.
Fumbling with the lock, he twisted the dial and inserted a key, finally forcing the heavy door open.
With a wave of his handgun, he herded them inside.
They stumbled into a pitch-black, windowless chamber where a clammy chill instantly enveloped them, seeping past Remy’s clothing and settling deep into his bones.
Red Nose tugged the pull-chain. A bare bulb hanging from the ceiling crackled, throwing yellow light across the room, the size of an office. There was no desperate leap through a window here, no bulky desk for cover—just a sealed tomb.
Red Nose waved his gun again, forcing Remy and Skye to move away from the door. “When Mr. Capone is ready to talk to you again, we’ll come get you.”
“This is no way to treat guests,” Skye said with unmasked indignation. “If I catch a cold, I won’t be able to sing at his restaurant.”
“Bundle up with lover boy and be glad the Big Fellow didn’t shoot you.” A final, vicious snarl ripped from Red Nose before he drove the heavy door shut with a boom.
Remy exhaled a long, shuddering breath, the knot of tension in his shoulders loosening marginally because the asshole hadn’t plunged them into total darkness by removing their single source of light.
“What is this place?” she asked, her voice thin and unsteady.
“A storage room. Come over here. I want to warm your feet. They must be freezing.”
They sat on a crate, and he removed his boots and socks. “Give me a foot.” She lifted her leg, and he removed her shoe. Then he dried her foot with his handkerchief, put a sock on it, and repeated the process with the other foot.
“These are so warm.” She shivered. “Won’t your feet get cold?”
“I’m a big boy. I’ll be fine. Is your coat warm enough?”
“For now.”
He stood and made a quick inventory of the room. “There must be a hundred or more crates of whisky stacked floor to ceiling. We woan die of thirst. Alcohol poisoning, maybe.”
She looked at him with equal measures of fury and terror. “Is it possible they won’t come back to let us out?”
Remy rushed back to her and wrapped her in his arms. “We’ll get out of here. Our story is far from over.” He knew then that he had finally caught the girl, his soulmate. Now, they just had to stay alive.
“Did you find any food in those crates? Some cheese, maybe?”
“Not yet. I’ll keep looking.” He walked over to the far corner and began laughing when he discovered a safe—six feet tall and three feet wide. “I know where we are.” His smile spread, equal parts relief and disbelief.
“So do I.” She glanced around. “Capone’s basement storage room.”
“It’s more than that.” He turned slowly, arms spreading wide as if presenting a stage. “Welcome to Capone’s vault.” A breathless laugh escaped him. “It fucking exists. Sorry about your luck, Geraldo Rivera.”
She blinked. “Who?”
“He’s a journalist. Attorney. Political commentator.” Remy waved a hand. “Long story.”
“I’ve never heard of him.”
“You will,” he said, confidence creeping back into his voice, “after I get us out of here.”
“How? We have nothing that will open that door or dig us out.”
“Ruby slippers, my love.”
“I’m pretty sure ruby slippers won’t help.”
“Oh, ye of little faith. ‘We are penguins on the ice / We’re not meant to fly, but God knows we can try.’”
“And we’re going to fly with ruby slippers?” Skye’s tone changed from scared to terrified. “How long will Capone leave us here?”
“Could be days, but we’re not staying. I have a plan, but it’s going to take a lot of explaining. I’ll do that as soon as we’re out of here.” He put his hands around her waist and lifted her to sit on top of the safe.
She squirmed to get down. “What are you doing?”
“Getting us out of here.” He hoisted himself up beside her. “Who is at your house right now that you know for certain will be there?”
“Anita. She never leaves when I’m out. She wants to be there in case of an emergency.”
“Good. Then I want you to say to yourself, ‘Take me to Anita,’ and keep saying it.”
She huffed a quiet laugh. “So, you’ve got magic silver slippers like Dorothy?”
“I thought they were red.”
“In Frank Baum’s book The Wonderful Wizard of Oz, the slippers are definitely silver.”
“In the movie, they’re ruby red.”
“What—”
He covered her mouth with his hand before she could finish. “I’ll tell you later.”
She peeled his hand away, clearly amused despite herself. “I’m making a list.”
“Of what?”
“Everything you’ve promised to tell me later.”
“Good,” he said dryly. “Because I woan remember.” Remy unpinned the brooch from the inside of his waistband.
Her gaze snapped to it. “Is that a diamond? It’s huge.”
“It’s not just a diamond but our ride out of here. I’m going to hold you tight. So, hang on and focus on Anita.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Just focus on Anita. I’ll take care of the rest.” Remy rubbed the inscription, repeated the chant, and thought of Skye’s housekeeper. Within seconds, the fog covered them.
Skye let out a piercing cry and desperately clutched at him as the world dissolved into a disorienting fog—a wild dash across the city.
Remy had never experienced a lateral trip, having only imagined the process as a smooth transit, not this sickening, unbridled rush.
The violent motion ended with a stomach-heaving stop, the mist evaporating instantly to reveal them in Skye’s living room, still clinging to one another atop the heavy bulk of Capone’s safe.
Remy closed the brooch, pinned it to the inside of his waistband, and jumped down. He reached for Skye.
Her hands clenched in a desperate knot, her face drained of all color—the very picture of fear. “I’m not… coming down.” Her voice was a breathy whisper. “Explain to me… what just… happened.”
“You need a drink.” He stepped over to the bar cart and filled two crystal glasses, but didn’t pick them up. “If you want your drink, come down.” He held his hands out to her again.
“No,” she snapped. “Am I dreaming? How did we get out of Capone’s vault?”
“Come down, and I’ll tell you.”
She continued to sit there stubbornly.
“Skye, sweetheart, we doan have time for attitude. The clock is ticking.”
“What attitude? I’m scared shitless, and I don’t know what happened to me.”
“You’re safe in your house now.” He could easily pick her up, but he didn’t want to do anything against her will. “Okay. Stay up there.” He picked up his glass and sat on the sofa. Then he started singing…
“Sittin’ here restin’ my bones / And this loneliness won’t leave me alone, listen / Two thousand miles, I rode / Just to make this dock my home.”
“I’ve never heard you sing before. You have a beautiful voice.” She glanced around the room. “I probably look pretty silly sitting on this dock.”
“You look adorable in thick wool socks and a sexy silk dress. A little worn around the edges, though, but that could happen to anyone threatened by those assholes.”
“If I get down, will you tell me how we got out of Capone’s clutches?”
“I’ll tell you anything you want to know.” He set his glass on the table and went to her. For a moment, she hesitated, then tentatively placed her hands on his shoulders. He lifted her, but instead of setting her down, he carried her over to the sofa. “I know I have a lot of explaining to do.”
He handed her a drink, and she took a sip, a measured one, almost with the precision of a surgeon. Remy recognized the symptoms. She was still in shock, with clammy hands and irregular breathing. But who could blame her? Her life was radically changing in real time.
“Did you hypnotize me to make me believe we went to Capone’s office?” she asked.
“I can do many things, but I never learned that skill. We were there, and Capone’s men locked us in his vault.
We have a bigger problem now. When he discovers we’re gone and took his safe, his entire force will be out looking for us.
We’re in grave danger. And not just us, but Bastien, Kaitlyn, Clay, Marcelle, Tony, and even Anita.
We doan have any choice. We have to leave Chicago before daylight.
” He checked his watch. “Which is only two hours.”
“He’ll come here looking for us. Won’t he?”
“In a New York minute.”
She threw down her drink and held the glass out for a refill. “Which means soon. What about Archibald and Violet?”
He gave her a double pour this time. “They doan need our protection. They can take care of themselves.”
“I’m a fairly sophisticated person raised by worldly parents, but this, as Clay would say, is far outside my wheelhouse. I know I’ve said this before, but I don’t understand what happened.” She gulped her drink. “How did you get us out of the vault?”
Remy sat beside her and turned to face her. “I’m originally from New Orleans. I went to college in Kentucky and then joined the Army. After being discharged, I went to work for Elliott Fraser. He’s a philanthropist, a Thoroughbred breeder, and a… time traveler.”
She gasped. “So, it’s true?”
“What’s true?” he asked cautiously.
“Time travel. People really can travel through time.”
Instead of the disbelief he expected, her casual nod of understanding disarmed him. “You seem okay with that.”