Speak Low (Speak Easy 2)

Sam Scarfone was not so lucky—but it wasn’t my bullets that killed him.

Joey once told me that friendships and rivalries change with the wind in organized crime. You can never be sure exactly who your allies or enemies are at any given moment. Someone might shake your hand one day and sign his name with your blood the next. That summer, there were a lot of shifting alliances as the top figures in Detroit’s underworld sought to position themselves to make the most money and gain the lion’s share of the criminal rackets.

Enzo, unable to handle his jealousy of Joey and seeking to punish him for the hijacking, had extended an offer to Sam Scarfone, unbeknownst to me. If Sam would run booze for Enzo’s clubs, Enzo would tell him about River Gang members who’d screwed him out of thousands of dollars on a drug heist. Sam responded by confronting Joey the evening I showed up, and might not have killed him, since they had been friendly before, but I don’t know for sure. In their business, there was no greater crime than not paying up.

However, earlier that day Joey had reached out to the old guard of the Scarfone faction, the men who’d split with Sam over control of the Scarfone territory after Big Leo’s death. To get even with Sam for ordering the hit that had killed his father, Joey spilled what he knew about Sam’s role in his uncle’s death, and the old guard agreed—Sam had to pay.

His bullet-riddled body was found in the river a few weeks after the incident at Joey’s.

No one was convicted.

Angelo, who had agreed to Joey’s offer of a cut of his bootlegging spoils, had been roughed up pretty good by Sam and wore a necklace of scars the rest of his life, but he survived. The River Gang disbanded once Sam was gone, and the leaders of the various powerful outfits in Detroit and the rest of the Midwest got together and agreed on a distribution of territory to cut down on violence. Eventually, even the outfits on the East Coast reached out to make a deal that would set up mutually beneficial smuggling operations.

Joey and Angelo decided to partner up and bought a boat together, and they ran whisky from Canada across the river on a regular basis for ten more years under the protection of the Scarfone outfit—until Prohibition ended. Eventually, they had enough money to buy an airplane, and they partnered with a few Canadian farmers who agreed to let their fields be used as landing sites in exchange for some booze and a fee. I wasn’t crazy about Joey staying involved in organized crime, but he promised me it would only be bootlegging, and he’d stay out of trouble. After all, he wanted to dedicate most of his time to running the restaurant and raising a family with me.

As soon as his injuries healed, we were married at Holy Family and feted by friends and family at a reception at the restaurant. The morning of the wedding, a beautiful September Saturday, my sisters and Evelyn helped me dress in my old bedroom.

Bridget, dressed in soft blue, fastened the row of buttons at my back and we exchanged a look in the mirror remembering what she’

d said about Joey getting them undone later. Molly and Evelyn, also in blue, settled the veil’s crown on my head and adjusted the tulle to fall around my shoulders. Mary Grace, in a sweet white dress, brought me my satin shoes and helped me into them. Bridget and Evelyn were teary-eyed, but I felt nothing but pure joy.

At the back of the church, I stood with Daddy, waiting for the processional to begin. He’d been mostly silent throughout the wedding preparations, grumbling at the price of things here and there, but never denying me something I really wanted. Now, we stood aside in the vestibule with our arms linked, my fingers tight around the stems of white roses.

“Tiny,” he said, his voice gruff, but soft. “I need to say something.”

“Now?” I whispered, glancing nervously toward the aisle.

“Yes, now.” His jaw was set.

“All right, Daddy.”

He swallowed. “I’m not good with words or affection like your mother was.”

“It’s OK.”

“Let me finish,” he said as the organ bleated the first notes of my processional music. The church coordinator began sending my sisters up the aisle as Daddy tugged me back. “When your mother died I did the best I could, but I know most of the raising fell on Bridget and then you. I could’ve done better to help.”

His voice caught, and I squeezed his arm. When he looked at me, I was stunned to see tears in his eyes. My throat immediately tightened.

“Of all the girls, you’re the most like me, Tiny. You’re the spittin’ image of your mother, but you’ve always been the most like me and I suppose that’s why I’ve let you get away with more, the whisky and everything, and why I’ve been harder on you.”

“I understand.” I shot a nervous glance up front. Was Joey there yet?

“I’m sorry for the things I’ve done that have hurt you or put you in danger, and I’ll always remember how you—did what you did for me. I might not’ve come through without you.”

“I’d do it all again. And you’d do it for me.”

“I would.” And he put a hand over his heart.

I knew he meant I love you, and I leaned over to kiss his cheek. “I love you too, Daddy. We are who we are, and the people who love us have to take us as we are. But now you gotta get me to the front of the church, or Joey’s gonna think I changed my mind.”

He sniffed. “Let’s go, then. I need a jar of whisky, and there ain’t any in this church.”

I smiled, the lump in my throat dissolving, and we stepped into the center aisle. Mary Grace was just reaching the altar, and we paused a moment, allowing the guests to rise. I was briefly stunned at how many people were there, perhaps more than a hundred, but then I remembered how large Joey’s family was. His mother and sisters were so thrilled with our plans to marry, they’d insisted on inviting every last person on the family tree with breath in their body.

For a second, nerves knotted in my stomach, but then Joey walked to the altar, and they unraveled into a thousand butterflies taking flight. Daddy and I began walking toward him at a quick clip, so quick that some guests hid smiles behind gloved hands and handkerchiefs. But I didn’t care—Joey was waiting for me. It wasn’t just his gorgeous face or the beautiful dark blue suit, or the strong body beneath it. It was that I knew that body now, every inch of it. I knew his mind. I knew his heart. I knew his history and his hopes for the future. I knew that he loved me and wanted me and understood me. He wanted to see the world with me. Some people might see marriage as a thing that trapped a girl in her home, but I knew life with Joey would never be dull, even if we never left the house.

In fact, as my eyes traveled from his slicked back hair to his lips and down his torso, I thought never leaving the house sounded like a pretty good idea.