I threw my arms around her from behind. “Thank you! I owe you a thousand favors when Daddy gets back.” She smelled good, like lavender and Ivory soap.
She patted my arm. “I’m just glad to see you getting out a little more. You were so down last week. Are you feeling better?”
“Yes,” I lied, letting her go.
“You know, eventually you’re going to have to tell me about him.” She winked at me over her shoulder. “Maybe it’s not Joey, but there certainly is someone. I can smell it.”
My heart stopped. Could she really smell Enzo on me? I sniffed my arm.
She laughed. “I wasn’t being literal, Tiny. I meant, I can tell you have feelings for someone.”
“Oh.” Relieved, I shook my head. “I thought you meant—never mind. I gotta go.” I could hear her laugh again as I ran down the stairs. In the stock room, I took the necklace box from the shelf and held it under my arm. Calling goodbye to Martin, I went out the back door and began walking home.
With every step another question rattled my brain. Where could I sell the necklace? What was it worth? Should I try to sell it this afternoon? Bring the money to Angel tonight? Should I go alone to the club?
Then I had a thought that halted my steps.
What if Club 23 had been shut down by the police after the raid? How would I find the DiFiores to pay them? I didn’t want them seeking me out at my house or the store or anywhere near my sisters.
Chewing my bottom lip, I turned around and walked back to Jefferson and then down two blocks. Sometimes a boy sold newspapers on the corner of Jefferson and Fielding in the afternoon, and I said a quick prayer he would be there today. If such a popular place had been shuttered, surely the paper would be full of it.
When I saw the ragtag newsboy in the usual spot, I picked up my pace. “Hello,” I called, jogging up with a friendly smile. “May I see a paper please?” He handed one to me and I scanned the front page quickly, looking for any mention of a raid at Club 23.
Nothing.
My heart tripped with excitement.
“You gonna buy that paper, miss?” the boy asked me, scratching his scalp under his cap.
“No, I’m sorry.” I was just about to give it back to him when a headline caught my eye. GANG KILLS FOUR IN EAST SIDE HEIST. Underneath that, it said Police seek link with mob led by Sam Scarfone. My stomach suffered an uneasy twinge as I skimmed the article, which stated that Big Leo Scarfone’s nephew and former lieutenant Sam the Barber Scarfone was suspected in leading another liquor heist in the city last night. Two trucks full of booze had been hijacked not far from the train station, and three men were killed at the scene. Another man survived the shooting, but police found him a short distance away, mortally wounded. Before he died, he identified Sam and gave a few other details about the crime.
But the line that made my vision cloud with white dots was the article’s last sentence. Police are searching for a black funeral coach in connection with the crime, which was driven by a young gunman, possibly a new recruit of the Scarfone gang.
#
Back at home, I told Molly I was unwell and needed to lie down. I shut myself in my room and sat on my bed, clutching my hands together. One thought tore through my brain over and over again. Joey killed someone. Joey killed someone. Joey killed someone. Hell, he might’ve killed more than one! Four men were dead! I put my face in my hands. There was no doubt in my mind that he was the new recruit of the Scarfone gang—the River Gang. And the cops are looking for him. I wondered if he was on his way to Chicago by now and hoped he was. Actually I hoped he’d stay there. The cops were the least of his problems—four men in the DiFiore camp were dead, and they wouldn’t let that go.
Retribution was coming.
I have to get out of this mess. I have to sell the necklace, get the rest of the cash, and spring Daddy before Angel realizes I have any ties to Scarfone or his gang. I looked at the blue box next to me on the bed, my legs twitching with nervous energy. I didn’t know of any pawn shops nearby, and the only person I could think of who would was Joey. Come on, think. I held my head in my hands and squeezed my eyes shut. What would Daddy do? Grimacing, I realized he’d probably bet the damn thing at the tables.
Then it hit me—Ralph the Bookie.
Never in my life had I smiled thinking about Ralph, and I wanted to seek him out about as much as I wanted to let a hairy black spider crawl up my arm, but he was the seediest person I knew. The kind of man who’d know how to get cash fast. I went to my dresser and tugged a comb through my hair. I’ll jump on the streetcar and head into the city. I could probably find him at the Sunnyside, Daddy’s usual hangout, a crummy old saloon with tables in the back room.
“Tiny?” Molly knocked twice before opening my bedroom door. “Are you all right?” She looked surprised when she saw me combing my hair.
I set the comb down quickly and glanced at my bed, where the necklace box was in plain sight. “Yes. What is it?”
“There’s someone here to see youuuuu,” she sing-songed.
My heart thumped an extra beat. “Who is it?”
“He didn’t say.” She grinned. “And I was so flustered by his face that I didn’t think to ask. He looks like a movie star!”
The room tilted, and I grabbed the dresser top. He’s here. At my house. “I’ll be right down. Molly, I want you to go to your room, shut the door, and stay in there until I come up and get you. OK?”
She gave me a knowing look. “You could just ask for privacy, you know.”