More important, what should I do in mine?
I had the power to allow Joey to keep a third of the drug money and discover who’d taken his father’s life—assuming Enzo had told me the truth. The problem was, Joey didn’t just want to know who killed his dad; he wanted to act on it. He wanted revenge. Did I want to be responsible for what he would do with the knowledge? He could go to jail for the rest of his life. Actually, Joey going to jail might be the least painful result—if Sam the Barber heard what he did, there would be consequences. Not to mention what friends of Legs Putnam would do, assuming he had friends. And what price would I pay for betraying Enzo’s confidence? I didn’t think he’d send me to the bottom of the river, but he’d be plenty mad.
On the other hand, I could just say nothing. Let Joey make his own decision. Let him decide what the information was worth. I hated the idea of keeping something he wanted so badly from him, but it seemed like the safest option.
Between the agonizing and the household drudgery, I was totally miserable.
If I accept Enzo’s offer, I’ll be free of these chores. In my mind I saw that apartment once more. I bet the Statler has maid service.
“Molly.” We were hanging sheets on the line in the back yard, and she had to pull a clothespin from between her teeth to answer me.
“Yeah?”
“If I moved out, would you help Daddy with Mary Grace and the house?”
She stuck her neck out so far I almost laughed. “Move out? What are you talking about?” She shrank back, eyes wide. “Are you pregnant?”
I smiled, unable to help it. “No.”
“Then why move out? Where are you going?”
I continued pinning a sheet and tried to explain without telling the whole truth. “I’d like to move downtown…into an apartment.”
“With Evelyn or something?”
“No. By myself.”
She burst out laughing. “How are you going to afford an apartment downtown by yourself?”
“Well, I’m going to get a job. And the place belongs to a—a friend, so the rent is reasonable.” Briefly, I wondered what that suite actually cost.
“Oh.” She went back to her sheet. “I guess it would be OK. Yeah. Actually, I know it would.” Her tone was more positive with each word, and I imagined she was getting excited about the prospect of one less adult breathing down her neck. “I mean, I’m a better cook than you are, anyway, and Mary Grace is certainly old enough to take over some chores.” She stopped and looked at me. “Does Daddy know about this?”
I sighed. “Kind of. I mean, I told him I wanted to move out, but he didn’t take the news too well.”
“You’re an adult. You should be allowed to do as you please.”
Grimacing, I reached for another damp pillowcase from the basket. “He doesn’t see it that way.”
“Well, I support you. If you want to move out, I think you should do it. I know I’d do it if I were you—in fact, I will do it. As soon as I’m out of school, there’s no way I’ll stay here. A girl’s gotta get out and live a little, you know?”
I nodded. It would mean more work for her in the short term, but her support made more sense now that I realized she wanted to do the same thing when she was old enough. And if I did it first, Daddy couldn’t stop her. At least, that’s the way she saw it. “Well, we’ll see. I haven’t made my decision yet. Lord, my head is pounding.”
“You don’t look too good. Your face is a little green. Why don’t you go lie down or something? I can finish this.” She took the pillowcase from my hands and nudged me toward the house.
“Actually, I prefer the fresh air. Maybe I’ll just stretch my legs a bit. Take a walk.”
“OK. Just don’t be gone too long—I’m leaving right after supper, remember?”
“I remember.”
I headed down the driveway and turned right. The sun was hidden behind clouds, so the day had taken on a gray pallor that suited my mood. I sniffed the air and caught a whiff of something strange, almost metallic. Maybe I wouldn’t walk that far—it smelled like a storm might be coming.
Chapter Ten
Without really thinking about it, I walked to Bridget’s. I stuck my head into the store, waved hello to Martin at the counter and took the back stairs up to her apartment. The scent of roasting potatoes hit me just outside the door, and I breathed deeply. Her place always smelled so good.
“Hello?” I walked into the kitchen without knocking.