The Mobster's Daughter, page 24
But we’d do so together.
Rhett eased back, keeping the embrace intact, and I rested my head on his heaving chest.
My own lungs burned as if I’d sprinted up Building K’s eight staircases.
After several seconds of comfortable silence, I dared to ask the obvious. “Do you still think it’s wise for me to stay with you?”
“I do.” His voice rumbled in my ear, his tone allowing no challenge. “But we should set boundaries.” He dropped a kiss on my forehead, and his hands abandoned their post at my waist. With sure steps, he moved across the parlor to the entryway. “We’ll take the Bambino as a chaperone.” He grabbed the baseball bat and waggled his brows.
I laughed. “How will that help?”
“Number one.” He widened his stance as if he stood at home plate and took a half-swing. “We have to always be at least a bat-length away from each other when inside the house.”
“Okay.” I nodded. “What’s the second rule?”
“We keep the bat with us as a reminder. Maybe set it in the middle of whichever room we’re in. That way, we’re always mindful.” He pointed the bat at me as if I’d be the one who’d be the rulebreaker.
My lips tugged into a full smile. I could only imagine how out of place George would be in Rhett’s fancy sitting room. “Are you serious about taking it with us?”
He settled the bat on his shoulder and approached me with a swagger that’d send scores of women to their fainting couch. “Absolutely. Because I have serious feelings for you.” He handed over George, his other hand wrapping over mine, our eyes locking. “And I want you to always feel safe with me.”
t t t
The last strums of twilight swept through Rhett’s opened front door. He gestured for Kate to step into his home and followed behind her with her things. Chimney tossed an unamused look at their newest house guest, then pranced away, turning its tail to them with an air of indifference.
“I’ve never had such an affectionate pet,” Rhett muttered and flicked on the electric lamps, bathing the parlor in a soft glow.
Kate, lazily clutching their wooden chaperone in her left hand, moved toward the side wall and studied the two family photos hanging from the picture rail. “Your mother was beautiful.”
Rhett’s father had always said Mother had left the legion of angels to join his side, even going as far as saying she’d stored her wings in the garage. Having been only five at the time, Rhett had sneaked to the outbuilding in a determined search for them. Looking at Kate and all her goodness, he understood his father’s sentiment.
She leaned closer as if to take in every detail of his family. His mother would’ve been smitten with her. His father would’ve clapped him on the shoulder and welcomed him to the “Goners Club.” Because once Rhett gave his heart, he was indeed a goner.
He swallowed. “I’m sure you’re tired. Let’s get you settled.” He hauled her trunk into his room and tried not to think about her sleeping there. In his bed. In her pretty nightgown. He winced. This was going to be torture. Especially after that kiss they’d shared.
Her innocence during that exchange only made his heart all the more protective. She was everything moral and good. She deserved someone who valued her purity, and he would give his fighting best to be that man.
“What’s this?” Kate leaned the baseball bat against his dresser and motioned to his trunk by the bedroom door.
He scratched his cheek. “That’s been there for a while.”
She gave him a curious look. Probably because he avoided her question like Chimney avoided human interaction.
She ran a finger over the black box, such a contrast to the eggshell walls behind it, her touch carving a trail in the dust. “I don’t remember this being here last week.” She glanced over, a sheepish smile lining her mouth. “But then I was a bit emotional at the time.”
“Understandable.” He positioned her belongings in the corner by the window and hoped she’d forget about—
“Why do you have this here?” She motioned to the trunk.
He expelled a sigh. “I’d tell you, but then I don’t want to appear a hypocrite.”
Her dark brow arching, she leaned against the spot on the wall beside the trunk as if to say she wouldn’t budge until she knew all. “I remember someone saying something about no secrets.”
Right. He removed his hat and tossed it on the dresser behind her. “I’ve hated this place.”
“The house?”
“This city.” He fixed his stare on the navy braided rug beneath Kate’s feet. “My father devoted his entire life serving. He was a cop for thirty-five years. Probably would still be if he was alive. It’s in his blood, like Major’s.” He loosened his tie. “After he died, there was a time I was more angry than sad.”
Her chin lowered, and that familiar guilt splashed in her eyes. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize for somebody else’s sins.” He tried to balance his tone with equal parts gentleness and adamance. “I was angry at Hugo, but also the crookedness as a whole. I had enough of it. Not even three weeks after Father’s death, I caught officers—ones that worked under him—taking bribes from bootleggers.” He blew out a frustrated breath. “Those men I thought loyal to the cause of cleaning up Pittsburgh, Father’s life work, were padding their pockets. It was like spitting on his grave.” He sunk onto the edge of his mattress. “So I quit.”
His gaze wouldn’t stray to her eyes. He’d never been the one to walk away from a challenge. From day one, life had forced him to face hard things, and he had. But staying on the force would’ve been a fight he’d never win. The corruption had spread like a tumor, killing the entire system. With Rhett being the son of the commissioner who’d declared war on all who’d violated the Volstead Act, the bootleggers and crime lords had known better than to bribe him. Though if his father would’ve turned a blind eye to the Salvastanos, he’d probably be alive today. But he’d be dead in ways that mattered most.
Rhett squeezed the edge of the mattress, keeping the emotion from his face. “I came home that night and packed my trunk in a blind rage. I can’t tell you what’s even in there.” He finally glanced over and found brown eyes fastened on him.
“You haven’t opened it all these months?”
He shrugged. “If I found myself needing a shirt or something, I’d buy a new one. I refused to unpack, because that meant I would be staying.”
Her features softened. “Yet you’re still here.”
“I made a vow to stay until I found the man who killed him.”
She gave a sad nod.
Could their relationship be any more complicated? While Rhett’s edge of bitterness had dulled since his conversation with Sister Agatha, he wouldn’t apologize for wanting justice for his father. But if Rhett would nab Hugo, would Kate be understanding? Or would he lose her forever?
That was a conversation for a different day. He was too exhausted to discover the answer. And perhaps a little nervous as well. “David and I started the agency. Though he knows my intent to leave town.”
She hugged her arms to her chest, her lips pressed together.
“Here I am begging you to stay, yet I’d made an oath to myself that I’d leave this city the moment Father’s death is avenged.”
“There’s one thing I learned through all this.” She pushed off the wall and stepped toward him. Then, as if remembering their rule, she lingered out of reach. “It’s important to remain true to your convictions.”
For so long, he’d despised Pittsburgh and all it stood for, letting the resentment build and decay. But since he’d met Kate, the resolve to head north hadn’t been as appealing. His words at her apartment came back to him. One day at a time.
His cat picked this moment to enter the bedroom, and to Rhett’s astonishment, it brushed against Kate’s shins. And was that purring he heard?
Her soft laughter was addicting. “I take it by the look on your face, Chimney doesn’t do this often?”
“Almost never.” His grin broke free. “Though Chimney knows a nice set of legs when he sees them.”
She rolled her eyes, but her smile shone her amusement. “Wait. I thought the cat is a girl.” Her gaze followed Chimney, who climbed onto the bed and padded around.
“Could be.” He shrugged and stood. “I don’t exactly know. We respect each other’s privacy.” Speaking of which, he needed to vacate his bedroom in order to give Kate her space. He grabbed his Bible off the dresser and tucked it under his arm. “Those are fresh sheets on the bed. If you need anything else, let me know.”
She nodded and stepped aside, giving him a wide berth. Her hand absently stroked her hair, capturing his stare. His lips tingled. Oh for the love … He cast a look at the Bambino Bat and shook away the longing.
Rhett managed a goodnight and pulled the door closed behind him. He sure hoped she slept well, because he doubted he would for a while.
Chapter 35
I sat beside Rhett in his Model-T, thankful my shift had ended. With all that’d been going on lately, it’d been difficult to concentrate on work. I’d helped in the office most of the day and had filed the log sheets incorrectly, costing me a full hour to amend. I could not afford to make any blunders tomorrow.
“What’s that sigh about?” Rhett’s hand slid over mine for a brief second before shifting gears.
“Frank’s running a shortwave test in the morning. Norway is to pick up our signal.” The whole station had buzzed with excitement. “The entire broadcast is in Norwegian.”
“Impressive.”
“It’s more challenging than I imagined.” I had to play and sing a difficult piece. During practice, I’d stumbled over the language several times. My gut knotted. Maybe Rhett could bring me to KDKA early tomorrow so I could rehearse. “This program is important to Westinghouse.”
“I’m sure you’ll do great.” He tossed me a reassuring smile.
Oh, to have as much confidence as Rhett. I stilled my hands before they wrung more creases in the chiffon fabric of my skirt. It would be awful to ruin the outfit the first time I’d worn it. I’d forgotten about this drop-waisted dress until the other day when I’d been packing. With flutter-split sleeves and subtle tiered ruffles, it was different than all the other pieces in my wardrobe. But the look of masculine appreciation Rhett had given me this morning when I’d emerged from the bedroom was enough to warm me on this drafty day.
Rhett took the turn toward Braddock, and my chest pinched with guilt. “Are you sure it’s okay to stop again?” We’d already gone to my apartment before my shift to visit Charlie and bring him the breakfast I’d prepared at Rhett’s place. Rhett hadn’t much food stocked, so I’d gotten creative with eggs, tomato soup, and crackers.
Before we’d left Westinghouse Plant, I’d suggested we fetch the groceries from my place. It’d be a shame for all my food to go to waste.
“It’s not a problem.” He shot me a wink. “Besides, I wouldn’t want to stand between you and your fig pudding.”
I smiled. “I fully intended to cook for you tonight, Rhett Jennings.” The breeze from the open window made my hair pull across my face, and I tamed it with my fingers. “But for that remark, you’re now getting a plate of stale crackers while I eat Bolognese.” I could use some of his tomato soup and gather the rest of the ingredients from my cupboards. “Too bad, you could’ve feasted like a true Italian.”
“Stale crackers?” He clutched his heart, his right hand gripping the steering wheel. “You’re too good to do that to me.”
I raised a challenging brow, my lips fighting against a smile.
He chuckled low. “Then I take back everything I said.” Braking at the stop sign, he leaned over and kissed me.
I gave his shoulder a light smack. “You just broke your own rule.” Not that I minded. But I wouldn’t dare let Rhett know that his kisses were more savory than a vat of fig pudding.
“I did not.” He eased the car down the side street leading to my apartment building. “I said we’re to remain a bat-length apart while inside the house. This, my darling, is the car.” He flashed a rascally smile, drawing my laugh.
“I still think that’s cheating.”
“It’s a loophole.” He drove onto the lot and shoved the car in neutral, pulling the brake. His strong arm wrapped around me and tugged me close. “Big difference.”
His lips pressed the crown of my hair for a delicious second, and then we both straightened. Rhett was out of the car first, rounded to my side, and opened my door. My arm in his, we walked the familiar route to my doorstep.
His muscles beneath my fingertips jerked as his feet skidded to a stop.
“What’s the matter?” My gaze followed his, finding my apartment door ajar. My heart beat staccato against my ribs. I had locked the door when last here. I was sure of it.
Rhett’s hand darted to his holster, and my fingers instinctively tightened on his arm.
“Be careful,” I whispered. “Charlie could be inside.” Though I’d cautioned Charlie this morning not to visit my apartment, I couldn’t be certain he’d obeyed.
Rhett gave a tight nod and nudged the door with his foot, the hinges groaning.
The early evening light shoved into the shadowed space, and I slapped a shaky hand over my mouth.
Demolished. Everything.
Images of Papa’s gutted bakery flashed, reminding me of my horrid first day in Pittsburgh. Now the nightmare had reached my home.
“Whoever did this could still be close.” Rhett’s low caution caused goosebumps to prickle my flesh. “I’m not leaving you out here. Follow me but keep quiet.”
Trapping my lips between my teeth, I nodded.
Rhett withdrew his pistol and stepped into my apartment. I shuffled behind him, my eyes taking in the painful sight.
“Watch the glass.” He warned.
The entryway mirror had been shattered, the shards glittering on the tile. The sofa had been turned over, the porcelain lamps lying in pieces beside the torn cushions. My parlor rug had been pulled back as if the intruder had been checking the floorboards.
Why?
Rhett’s gaze sweeping, he moved with deliberate strides toward my kitchenette. I followed so close that my chest almost knocked into his back.
The cabinets gaped open. All its contents, the food I’d purposed to retrieve, lay in a messy heap on the floor, the litter extending to the drapes.
The drapes!
I sprinted to the curtains—Charlie’s hiding spot—and yanked it back. My breath came out in a whoosh. The spot he’d always claimed was vacant.
Rhett’s hardened glare softened as if realizing the motive behind my impulsive action. He motioned for me to get behind him as he eyed my bedroom. The door was closed.
Could the intruder be in there?
The veins on the back of Rhett’s neck bulged. “I’m armed.” His voice boomed. “Come out with both hands raised.” He reached back and guided me, so I stood directly behind him. With his shoulders set back and his stance wide, Rhett stood like a Roman gladiator, anchoring himself between me and whatever beast lingered opposite the door.
The wall clock ticked a slow dirge compared to my wild heartbeat.
“Stand back.” Rhett gave a low warning. “I’m opening it.” Pistol outstretched, he threw open the door.
No monster threatened within the room, but I looked in horror at its ravaged touch.
The window had been broken, the jagged glass like sharp teeth. Drawers had been emptied and thrown. The articles of clothing I hadn’t packed littered the floor. My mattress had been pulled off the bedframe. My vanity moved to the other side of the room, all my grooming items scattered in the rubble.
Who could have done this?
Rhett stepped over the vanity stool and investigated the broken window, the sill, and the area around it.
“Anything?” My voice sounded feeble.
He stepped back and rubbed the turn of his jaw, his scowl deepening. “The intruder came in through the window and escaped through the front door.” He glanced over. “The same way as before.”
Which pointed even more blame toward Mr. Cardosi since he’d left both cards.
An eerie crunching came from the entryway. My head whipped toward the sound. A slim, dark shadow stood against waning daylight.
“It’s Charlie.” I dashed toward my young friend and squeezed him in an embrace.
His arms hugged my waist even as he trembled.
He shouldn’t be in here. This place, his only refuge, had sunk into devastation.
I pulled back and glimpsed the distress in his eyes. “Follow me.” I led him onto the porch, away from the rubble. “Let me see if there’s any salvageable food. Then you’re to go straight home.”
His fingers grasped my sleeve, tugging.
“Charlie, it’s not safe here.” At least he couldn’t hear my voice crack. “Wait one second.” I rushed toward the kitchenette. My plans of hauling my food to Rhett’s house now lay in a puddle at my feet. The sugar and flour jars had been dumped, the bread in a soggy mush beside spilled milk.
My gaze searched for something—anything—to offer Charlie. The dessert tin leaned against the bottom of the icebox. I snatched it and lifted the lid. Peanut butter cookies weren’t the most substantial supper, but it was better than him going hungry. I sorted through the produce bin, now tipped on its side, found the only apple that wasn’t bruised, and moved swiftly to Charlie.
“Here, sweetheart. This is all I have.” I handed over the food and strained for a smile I hoped appeared soothing. “Now, you need to run along. I’ll visit tomorrow after my shift.” I kissed his head.
