By Starlight (5 page)

But the days became weeks. The weeks became months. The months became years and everything Maddy feared had come true. All of those “firsts” became worthless; memories that she should have cherished became painful reminders of a time she wished she could forget. Slowly, something else happened to her for the first time.

Maddy had learned what it was like to hate someone.

Maddy watched how Anne Rider hung on every word Mike Gilson said, how enthusiastically she laughed at every one of his jokes, and how genuinely she smiled at him with her eyes. Affectionately, she laid her hand on his, giving it a playful squeeze. Only blindness would’ve kept someone from noticing how deeply the young seamstress was in love, that she and the cook at the local diner would be married soon, that everyone else in the speakeasy might as well have been invisible, for they had eyes only for each other.

No matter how hard she tried, no matter how many drinks she poured, how much money she took in, or how much small talk she made with everyone who approached the bar, Maddy couldn’t look away from them for long. She saw their future, their happiness, their love, all things she’d never have.

And she hated them for it…

Maddy was ashamed of her feelings. It wasn’t fair; both Anne and Mike were two of the nicest people in Colton. But because of what had happened, of how horribly Maddy had been hurt, the idea of love had been soured for her. Her heart had been poisoned to the core. In her darkest times, she wondered if she could ever love again, could ever give a man her trust. She doubted it.

It was a pointless wish, but just for one moment Maddy wanted to have Jack Rucker standing before her. She didn’t know what she’d say to him, what she might do, but she was certain of one thing.

He would
never
forget it.

PURTY GOOD CROWD
tonight, ain’t it?”

Jeffers Grimm looked down at Sumner Colt and frowned. He hated the way the boy wanted to be all chummy. “Not bad,” he grunted.

“It’s a heck of a lot better’n that! If’n it gets any busier, we’re gonna have to bring in more tables and chairs!”

“Just keep your eyes on the damn door!” Jeffers hissed angrily.

Sumner fell silent, just the way his boss wanted it.

The two of them stood beside the speakeasy door, at the bottom of the cellar stairs, watching the two dozen or so men and women customers have a good time. Smoke, bits of conversation, and laughter floated around the cellar. Shadows danced on the walls in the low light. A couple swayed to the music beside the record player. Maddy smiled as Seth Pettigrew cackled at another of his stale jokes.

And through it all, liquor was drunk.

Because the selling of that alcohol was illegal, Jeffers made sure someone was guarding the door at all times. He’d been careful about whom he’d told about the speakeasy, keeping it among people he knew or considered trustworthy, but he wasn’t a fool, either. Word had gotten out; every night there was a new face, someone he hadn’t expected. Sometime soon, there’d be a visitor who hadn’t come in search of a good time.

That was why Sumner was there. He wasn’t much more than a boy, barely eighteen, but thought himself far older. With his short-cropped blond hair, blemished skin, cold blue eyes, and nervous tongue, he wasn’t fooling anyone. Skinny as a stray cat, he still had his uses. Though small, he was tougher than he looked. He followed Jeffers around like a dog, doing whatever he was told and only occasionally needing a beating to remind him of his place. If the kid didn’t do so much damn talking, Jeffers might even have considered liking him.

“I’m gonna go take a look around,” Jeffers said.

“Let’s go,” Sumner answered, leaping up from his chair as if to follow.

Jeffers grabbed him by the arm and squeezed hard enough to make sure he had the kid’s undivided attention. “You ain’t leavin’ this door till you’re told,” he snarled. “I don’t care if the damn roof is cavin’ in, you stay put ’less I tell you otherwise, understand?”

“Sure, sure, sure,” Sumner whimpered, rapidly nodding his head in agreement. “Whatever you say!” When Jeffers finally let him go, he practically leaped back into his chair, turning to stare at the door as if it were the most important thing in the world.

“Don’t leave till I come back,” Jeffers repeated.

“Got it, boss,” Sumner answered quickly, his eyes never leaving the door.

Shaking his head, Jeffers made his way farther into the speakeasy.

Jeffers had never been comfortable around lots of people, but thankfully most folks were even more uneasy around him and gave him a wide berth. Even in the speakeasy, he noticed how they got out of his way; it was done subtly, a shifting of a chair here, a repositioning of the feet there, but he saw how they glanced in his direction, aware of where he was in the room. It didn’t bother him; on the contrary, it pleased him greatly.

He wanted the people of Colton to be afraid of him.

Making his way through the tables, Jeffers nodded at the few patrons who were brave enough to look him in the eye. Because of his imposing size, threatening people came easy to him, almost effortlessly. He was no stranger to violence; he’d been in more fights than he could count and had never come out on the losing end. He’d shot men who’d stuck their nose into his business, had stabbed others, and even had trampled one poor bastard with his horse. Everyone knew he wasn’t to be trifled with.

Everyone except Maddy Aldridge.

From the opposite side of the cellar, Jeffers watched as Maddy poured Seth Pettigrew another drink. When she took his money, she smiled so brightly that her whole face lit up. Absently, she flipped a few loose strands of hair over her shoulder. Jeffers was so caught up in what she was doing that he nearly ran into one of the cellar’s support beams.

Damn, if she didn’t get his heart racing.

Jeffers was surprised he hadn’t noticed her much in the last couple of years. He’d see her at her father’s store from time to time, but he’d never paid much attention; if was as if she were part of the fixtures. Maybe it was because they were so completely different; she was smart and witty, always ready with a warm smile for everyone she met, and a bit easier on the eyes. She was popular and respected. On the other hand, no one would ever mistake Jeffers Grimm for Colton’s finest son.

But then, gripped with one hell of an idea, he’d stepped inside Silas Aldridge’s store and seen her true, maybe for the first time.

Ever since, he’d become obsessed.

Jeffers knew she was too good for the likes of him, but he didn’t give a damn. It wasn’t as if he wanted her hand in marriage. Maddy was pure, an example of all that was admirable and good in the world. He’d watched her talk to folks come down out of the hills, filthy degenerates without a pot to piss in, and do so with respect. As remarkable as she was, all Jeffers wanted to do was grind that goodness out of her, to make her as disreputable as he was.

He wanted her to belong to him.

Jack Rucker had been a fool to give her up. Most folks, Jeffers included, could see that Maddy was still pining for him. Though almost seven years had passed since Rucker left Colton, there was still a part of her waiting, maybe even expecting him to return, but Jeffers knew there was a better chance of hell freezing over. Better than most, he understood Rucker’s leaving; Jeffers wanted the same thing, to get away to something better, somewhere
more
, to leave Colton behind forever.

Until that day came, he’d set his sights on having Maddy Aldridge. Looking at her now, how beautiful and untouchable she was, all at the same time, only made his desire greater. The whores who shared his bed couldn’t hold a candle to her; whenever he rolled off one, he was usually too disgusted to look at her for long. He doubted he’d feel that way with Maddy beneath him.

We’re gonna find out soon…whether she wants to have me or not…

Jeffers felt the stirrings of a smile tug at the corners of his mouth as Jared Wilkinson hurried to get out of his way, the legs of his chair scraping loudly against the floor as he shot to his feet. Without a look back, the old man practically ran toward the bar. Years before, Jeffers had lent Wilkinson some money; unbeknownst to him at the time, it had come with a high rate of interest. When the former lumberjack protested, it had taken a late night visit to help keep him paying. Even though the money had been fully paid a few months back, the man’s fear remained.

Amused, Jeffers was reminded of one of the reasons he’d become attracted to Maddy; unlike Jared Wilkinson, she had a backbone.

When Jeffers had first approached her about using the mercantile’s basement as a speakeasy, he’d come away impressed that she’d turned down his offer so determinedly. Though he’d seen the fear in her eyes as plain as day, she’d stood her ground. Very few people would have dared to defy him. It was at that moment Jeffers began to see her differently. He’d become attracted to her. The irony was not lost on him; the last thing he would’ve ever tolerated from someone like Sumner was backtalk.

The second time Jeffers had come to her, he’d been far more determined, not just because he’d needed the space but also because by then
he wanted her
. Rather than threatening her, he’d tried to make her see reason, going so far as to drag her sick father into it, anything to make her relent. Slowly, Jeffers saw her resolve weakening. When she insisted on being involved in running the tavern, it was obvious she’d expected him to argue; when he hadn’t, confusion flashed across her face.

If only she knew the truth.

Jeffers walked into the thick, dark shadows at the rear of the cellar. Crates, sacks, and barrels of unsold merchandise had been stacked in piles in order to make room for the speakeasy. Weaving his way through the mess, Jeffers came to a locked door set into the rear wall. Pulling a key from his pocket, he unlocked the padlock he’d installed, stepped inside, and flipped the light switch.

The storeroom wasn’t half the size of the rest of the cellar, but its ceiling was higher. In the far corner was a pulley lift that rose to the alleyway between the mercantile and the bakery next door. Thankfully for Jeffers, the tough times that had struck Silas Aldridge’s business meant that the room had been nearly empty at the time his daughter agreed to open the speakeasy. That left plenty of room for Jeffers to begin filling it.

Crates full of liquor bottles were stacked three high across the room. Heavy oak barrels lined the wall opposite the lift; the contents of each had been painted on the side. A few loose bottles of whiskey were stacked on top of one of the barrels, the amber liquid dark in the faint light. Sitting beside the door was an open crate packed with straw, which held the bottles he’d set aside for the speakeasy’s bar, the bottles he sold by the drink to help along his lie.

A lie that’s makin’ me rich…

When Prohibition had been enacted, most of the drinkers in Colton had bitched about the loss of drink, whining about how unfairly the new law punished them. Jeffers hadn’t seen it that way; all he saw was opportunity. Wherever there was a demand for something in low supply, money was just waiting to be made. Now that selling alcohol was illegal, thirsty folks would spend plenty to get it. That was where he would step in. It hadn’t taken long for him to make contact with others who thought the same way.

The border between the United States and Canada was thousands of miles long, far too great of a distance for all of it to be watched. This was especially true of the wilderness of Montana. Hundreds of pack trails, dirt roads, animal crossings, rivers, and creeks wormed their way through the thick forests that stretched between the two countries. For someone like Jeffers, a man who knew every nook and cranny of the area, it seemed impossible that someone could find him if he didn’t want them to; he was a needle in a hundred-mile-wide haystack.

When Jeffers was first introduced to Jimmy Luciano, he had no idea the man worked for Al Capone. Listening to what the gangster wanted, Jeffers had a bit of trouble concentrating; with his fine clothes, cigar, and jeweled rings that dazzled from almost every finger, Jimmy was everything Jeffers aspired to be. It wouldn’t have mattered
what
was being asked of him; he would’ve done most anything to be involved.

The plan was simple. Connections of Capone’s in Canada would meet Jeffers near a little-used horse trail right on the border under the cover of darkness. Casks and crates of liquor would be transferred to a truck that Jeffers would procure. He would then drive it back to Colton and store the liquor, holding load after load until Jimmy came to retrieve it all in one fell swoop. For his work, Jeffers would be paid a lot of money.

The problem had been finding a place in Colton big enough to store the booze. He’d considered keeping it in a barn outside of town, leaving it in the truck covered with a tarp, and even stashing it beneath a bridge. In the end, none of them seemed safe enough. But getting caught wasn’t an option, either; if the cops didn’t lock him up forever, he could only imagine what the Mob would do to him. It was then, while walking down the street at a loss as to what he should do, that he passed in front of Aldridge Mercantile. Through the front window he’d seen Maddy standing behind the counter, and an idea had struck him like a lightning bolt from a stormy sky.

He’d hide the liquor right in the heart of town.

Jeffers was certain that the mercantile’s cellar would have plenty of room. Not only could he hide the booze there until Jimmy came to get it, but it even allowed him the opportunity to make some money on the side. Operating a speakeasy would be nothing but profit; after all, there were plenty of thirsty people in Colton. All it took was cutting a side deal with the Canadians for a couple of crates of his own and he was in business.

He just needed Maddy.

When she’d finally given in, Jeffers had set to work. He and Sumner had gotten a truck, picked up the first load of liquor, and driven back to Colton under a black, moonless sky. Careful to avoid attention, they’d parked in the alley and unloaded their cargo as quickly as they could. Jeffers had installed new locks on the doors to the cellar storeroom and pulley lift to keep any curious visitors away. A few days later, the speakeasy was open for business.

Everything had gone off without a hitch.

Jeffers had no doubt Maddy would be furious to know he’d deceived her. Because he had involved her, she was in as much danger as he was, from both the law and the Mob should anything go wrong. She was making a bit of extra money, enough to help care for her sad excuse of a father, but Jeffers stood to make hundreds of times more. Maybe after he’d succeeded in breaking and bedding her, he’d be willing to give her a bigger cut of the money. Unlike Jack Rucker, maybe he’d even take her along when he left this piece-of-shit town forever.

He was going to be rich and powerful, and there was nothing that could stand in his way.

No sooner had Jeffers locked up the storeroom and turned back toward the speakeasy when he saw something that made his blood run cold. Everyone else had noticed it, too; the whole tavern had fallen dead silent, save for Seth Pettigrew, cackling away on his stool. There, calmly walking toward the makeshift bar, a wry smile on his face, was Jim Utley, Colton’s sheriff.

Furious, Jeffers’s eyes snapped toward the entrance. Sumner stood in the open door, his eyes wide and his jaw slack. He looked up the cellar steps, then at the sheriff, and then over at Jeffers. Jeffers knew the boy couldn’t have kept Utley from entering, but he should’ve done
something
, shouted out or caused a ruckus; if he had, maybe things could’ve been settled at the door, out of sight of the customers.

But now it was too late.

Jeffers had lied to Maddy about a lot of things, and one of them had been his lack of concern over Jim Utley. He’d told Maddy the sheriff was a pushover, nothing for them to be worried about, but the truth was he really didn’t know. It could go either way…