“Why?” She narrowed her eyes. “Where’s Daddy anyway? He’s not usually gone so long.”
Jesus. She has to pick tonight to get wise? “He’s working on some business connections in Cleveland. We might…run some whisky down there.”
“Oh.” Molly appeared satisfied by that. “So what time will you be home?”
“I’m not sure. But I want you both in bed at a decent hour, and no one comes over. Is that understood? Or do I have to ask Mrs. Mulder to check up on you?” Mrs. Mulder was our two-doors-down neighbor. When we were younger we used to call her “Meanie Mulder” because she was always crabbing at kids who ran across her lawn.
“Ugh, no. But all this late night running around is strange, Tiny.” She began to walk out, then turned around, one eyebrow arched like Gladys Murphy’s. “Is there a boy involved?” she asked, a gleam in her eye. She tapped a finger on her chin. “Now that I think of it, I believe I did see a new dress in your closet, perhaps even new shoes—and a lipstick in your dresser.” She blinked coquettishly.
I could feel the heat in my cheeks. “Stay out of my room.”
Her mouth dropped open. “There is a boy! And you better tell me who it is, or I’ll tell Daddy about the lipstick and all these late nights!”
I grabbed her by the ear, which I knew she hated more than anything. We were about the same height, and she probably had a few pounds on me, but when I got her like that, she knew she’d better listen good. “You cross me,” I whispered fiercely, “and I’ll tell him what I know about you and Jimmy Haskell on the back porch.”
She gasped. “Mary Grace, that little tattle tale!”
I let go of her ear. “I don’t want to hear another word out of you, is that understood?”
“You’re not my mother,” she spat, rubbing her ear. “And I’m sick of you acting like it.”
I almost laughed. “You know what, Molly? I’m sick of it too.”
#
When I pulled up at the boathouse at ten, I saw two cars—Joey’s Ford and a beautiful red Buick Touring. I parked next to the Ford and took a few deep breaths before opening my door. A group of guys stood on the dock, cigarette tips glowing orange in the blackness. No moon tonight.
I picked out Joey right away. He wasn’t the shortest or the tallest, but his silhouette in the dark was familiar to me now. It made me feel a little safer. Walking toward the group, I held the hearse keys in one hand and an envelope of cash in the other.
“Tiny.” Joey’s deep voice cut through the slap of waves against the seawall. “This is Sam and Angelo and Whitey.” All three of them wore suits, no ties. Angelo and Whitey wore floppy caps like Joey, but Sam’s head was bare. He was a short, thick-necked, and bald, which surprised me—for some reason I’d pictured a barber with a full head of hair.
“Hello,” I said.
They said nothing. One might have nodded.
Joey cleared his throat. “Did you bring the keys like I asked?” I held them out, and he gave them to Sam.
“Where are they?” Sam asked, tossing his cigarette butt into the water.
“They’re at the garage I told you about,” Joey said. “Here’s the key.” For a minute I was confused as to why Joey would have a garage key, but then I remembered that he had replaced the back door today.
“At least two are running right now.” I swallowed hard when they all looked at me. “There’s a third my father was still working on.”
“I can get it running,” Joey said quickly. He turned to me. “In exchange for the hearses, Sam here’s gonna buy all the cases in the boathouse.”
“One fifty per,” Sam said.
I bit my lip. That was thirty bucks less per case than usual, but what was I going to do? It was sell to Sam at a discount or kiss Daddy goodbye. I nodded. “OK.”
“And he’s also going to let us make a run tonight without paying his percentage,” Joey added. His tone implied I should be grateful.
“Thank you,” I said. Sam took a wad of bills from his pocket and handed it to me. I tucked it into the envelope, too scared to count it in front of him.
Joey spoke up again. “One more thing.”
“Yes?” My voice cracked.
“We heard—well, Sam heard—that Angel’s expecting a huge rum shipment this week by rail from the East Coast. You know anything?”