Chapter Seventeen
“You sure this is the right night? She said it would be open on Wednesday?” Jameson asked, eyeing the dark alley.
“No, she didn’t. That’s why I’m certain it will be.” Tony shoved his hands in his pockets, wanting to be anywhere else in the world but there.
Tony had gone over and over everything, trying to decide the best move. Not just for him, but for Jessie too. She probably wouldn’t agree that bringing the Feds in to raid her club was the best course of action, but in the long run, it really was.
If she was in custody, she’d be protected. And she would be in custody. Because Tony had also overheard the street names of both the exits. And had men waiting at both of them. But…at least she’d be safe. Willie couldn’t touch her. Neither could the Phoenix. If the man even existed, which Tony seriously doubted. It had been Jessie who’d made the decision on what days to open the club. Jessie who kept the place going. Jessie who the employees turned to. If a man named the Phoenix showed up, Tony would eat his hat. And then he would beat the guy to a pulp.
“She might have been telling you the truth. We haven’t seen any sign of anyone.”
But she hadn’t been, and Tony knew it. She’d lied to him, just like Lucille had. He’d do what he could to protect her, but she’d proven again and again that he couldn’t trust her. He had proof, which was more than he ever had with Lucille. The realization ran through him like poison, destroying his heart a little piece at a time. But he couldn’t ignore it anymore. Wouldn’t put anyone in jeopardy again. Well, at least this time no innocents would get hurt because of his misplaced affection for some woman. He’d do the right thing, no matter how much it hurt either one of them.
Tony sucked in a long, slow breath of the cool night air. Another good thing that might come out of this raid…he could get away from Jameson, for good.
“I overheard them say the club would be open on Monday, Thursday and Friday. And she’s probably pretty certain I heard them. So it stands to reason that she switched the dates to Tuesday, Wednesday, and Saturday. And just to be certain, I followed Maude Fairfax, her singer, last night. A cab dropped her off near this alley last night around eleven. What else would a dame be doing all dolled up at that time of night, in this spot? They’ll be open tonight. She’ll be banking on me going by what I overheard.”
Jameson scowled. “You’d better be right, Solomon.”
Tony shrugged. “If I’m not, there’s no harm done. You’ll just raid an empty club, like you’ve done a dozen times before.”
“Stick a cork in it, Solomon.”
Tony snorted and turned his attention back to the Dalton Street exit. He wasn’t sure whether to hope that he was right or wrong. Or whether to hope Jessie made it out or got pinched. Too many what-ifs, no matter which way he looked at it. But none of them had him coming out looking like the good guy. At least, not to Jessie. He’d lose her. But maybe he could save her from herself, and a few bootlegging goons, in the process.
…
Jessie looked over the crowd, for the first time wishing it wasn’t quite so big. Maybe she should have kept the club closed this week, just to be safe. She was relatively sure Tony would go by what he’d overheard in the cellar, especially since she’d reinforced that afterward. But there was always the chance that he’d try to call her bluff.
They had their escape route in place, and an exit strategy that shouldn’t fail. She grabbed a tumbler that Joe had just filled and took a sip. She didn’t drink much, but she needed something tonight. Her nerves were shot. Joe cocked an eyebrow and filled another glass for the couple who was waiting.
Maude sashayed over to her and slipped onto the stool next to hers. Jessie had no idea how the woman moved like that, almost like her feet weren’t touching the floor at all.
“Honey, I’ve been waiting for you to show all night,” Maude said, slapping her left hand down on the counter in front of Jessie. “Take a gander at that shiny handcuff, will you?”
“Oh Maude! It’s beautiful,” Jessie said, grabbing Maude’s hand so she could see the ring better. “Who proposed?”
“Tommy Gallagher.”
“The tailor from down the street?”
Maude nodded, a faint blush staining her cheeks, and Jessie smiled. Her friend looked genuinely happy. Jessie was a bit surprised. Maude had never seemed the type to want to settle down with one man, but Jessie supposed that the right man could make a woman change her mind. After all, one had almost changed hers.
Jessie shied away from that thought and threw her arms around her friend, giving her a hug. “I’m so happy for you. That’s wonderful news.”
“Thank you, Jessie. That means so much to me. I was afraid you might be upset…”
“Why would I be upset?”
“Well, Tommy said he doesn’t care if I keep singing, but I think he’d rather I didn’t. Singin’ in a speakeasy…well, I keep strange hours and since Tommy works all day, we wouldn’t get to see each other much if I was here all night.”
Jessie reached over and grabbed her friend’s hand. “Don’t you worry about it another second. I can always take over if I need to and besides, I’m not sure how much longer I’ll keep this place going, anyhow.”
“Jessie! You’re not thinking of closing down?”
Jessie shrugged. “I never meant to keep this joint open long. With the Feds always sniffing around and now Willie poking his nose in, too, it seems like it might be a good time to bow out.”
Maude’s sharp eyes looked her over. “And what about your handsome Mr. Solomon?”
“He’s not my anything.”
“You could have fooled me, ducky.”
Before Jessie could respond, a sudden flash of darkness drew her attention to the entrance tunnel. Another lamp was extinguished and a collective gasp of the suddenly panicked crowd had Jessie jumping to her feet, her pulse thundering in her ears. Raid!
She’d been stupid, so stupid! He had betrayed her. She should have kept the club closed. Damn it all!
There was no time to kick herself. She shoved aside her roiling emotions and focused past her heartache and fear to what was immediately important. Jessie ducked under the makeshift bar, helping Joe pull the set of shelves across the alcove where they stashed the liquor before turning to help get the bar down and stacked against the wall. When they were done, the bar area looked like a pile of old doors rotting next to a set of old storage shelves laden with years’ worth of old junk.
The club was almost entirely dark now. The band members had led most of the patrons out through the tunnels toward the Dalton Street exit. But they weren’t quick enough. The sound of a dozen pairs of boots stomping down the entrance tunnel had Jessie’s heart pounding in her throat.
“This way!” she yelled, grabbing Maude’s hand and waving to Joe. They ran for her office, slamming the door just as the first agent burst through the tunnel. Jessie turned the key, though she knew that wouldn’t keep them out for long.
“Joe, help me,” she said, running to the bookcase.
Together, they shoved it aside. Someone pounded on the door and the trio quickly slipped into the tunnel beyond the secret door. Joe closed it behind them, securing it with a thick plank of wood.
They took a deep breath, leaning against the wall and panting.
“Will they find us here?” Maude asked.
“I don’t think so,” Jessie said. “The only way into this tunnel is through the cellar in the shop. And I don’t think they were watching the shop.”
She and Joe exchanged a look. Jessie had no idea whether or not the cellar tunnel was safe. Tony knew where it was. He could easily lead the Feds down. Just like he’d led them to her speakeasy tonight.
A lump formed in her throat, but she tried to swallow past it, trying to ignore the pain lancing through her heart at his betrayal.
“I’m going to check out the cellar. If it’s clear, we can go up the back stairs into my apartment and wait until morning. They can’t arrest us for being in my own home.”
Maude nodded and Jessie crept to the foot of the stairs, listening carefully. She didn’t hear anything so she quietly ascended the stairs and slowly pushed open the trapdoor, just wide enough so she could see out.
The cellar was dark and deserted. “Come on,” she whispered to her friends.
They followed her through the cellar to the back staircase, and up into her apartment. Jessie immediately went to the window. In the distance she could see flashing red lights, heard the distant wail of the sirens. But the majority of them weren’t in the direction of Barker Street. They were over near the Dalton Street area. Where all her patrons had been led.
Jessie put her hand over her mouth, pain rolling through her in waves at the magnitude of his betrayal. He hadn’t just taken her down. He’d taken down everyone in her club. She refused to cry in front of Maude and Joe. But then she looked at the street below her window and had to shove her fist in her mouth to keep from crying out, in pain or fury, she wasn’t sure. She turned her back, shutting out the sight of a lone man, his hands shoved in his pockets, standing across the street watching her window.
She wanted to rush down there, rail at him, hit him, ask him if he’d done this. Ask him why.
Instead, she leaned against the wall, slid to the floor, and let the tears come.