Flirtinis with Flappers (25 page)

My life flashed before my eyes. Two lives, actually. Me as me and me as Louise. Soon to be vaporized. I'd failed in my mission. I'd failed Nick. I'd failed saving the world. I'd even failed myself.

Could all of this really end right at this moment?

McGurn raised the pistol, staring at me with squinty eyes. "I loved you, Louise," he repeated. "But you decided it would be better to go and love Sam instead."

"She wasn't with Sam."

I whirled around at the voice from the back of the room, my eyes widening into saucers as I saw Daisy standing there, arms crossed against her chest, an angry frown on her face.

I turned back to Jack. He still had the gun trained on me, but he was looking past me at our five-foot-one interruption.

"Daisy, this is between me and Louise. I suggest you go home," he said in a tight voice. "You're a good kid. You don't want to get mixed up in none of this."

"I'm already mixed up in it," Daisy said, taking big strides across the room and ending at my side. "You've got the wrong girl."

"Tommy said—"

"You know, if you look up dumb in the dictionary, Tommy's ugly mug's gonna be starin' right back at yah," Daisy said, her voice hard and steely. "I know for a fact that Sam was not with Louise."

"Oh yeah? And how do you know this fact?"

"'Cause Sam was with me."

Machine Gun stared at her. I stared at her. What did she just say?

"Are you telling me the truth, Daisy?" McGurn asked, switching the pistol from me to her. "You ain't just sayin' that to protect your friend, now are you?"

"Jackie, this ain't friendship. It's business. And you're going to mess it all up if you don't stop letting your emotions rule your job. You got an important thing goin' down tomorrow morning, right? Something you worked out with Al? Well, don't you think you'd be better off worrying about that than who your girlfriend is sleeping with?"

McGurn stood silent for a moment, as if considering her words, then lowered his gun. He sank down into his seat, laid the weapon on the table, and rubbed his eyes with his fists.

"You're right. Of course, you're right," he said. My shoulders dropped in relief, and I let out the breath I hadn't realized I was holding. I glanced over at Daisy. She shot me a small, quick smile from the comer of her mouth. "I don't know what I was thinkin'. It's just…" McGurn looked up at me, and I was shocked to see tears in the corners of his eyes. Was the big, bad gangster actually crying? "I've just been under a lot of stress lately," he said, his voice cracking. "This thing we're doin', if it don't work, it could be a big problem."

"Awh, baby, I understand," I said, walking around the desk and putting a comforting hand on his shoulder. "It's perfectly natural to feel all stressed out when you're under this much pressure. But I'm here for you. As you said, I'm your best girl. And I love you. You're going to pull this off. I have perfect faith in you."

"Thanks," he mumbled. I could tell he was very close to bawling like a baby. He looked up. "God, this is embarrassin'," he said. "Do you girls mind waiting outside for a bit? Gotta get myself together."

I smiled. "Of course, sweetie," I said, rubbing his shoulder one more time for good measure. "You take all the time you need. And then tonight we'll head to our hotel, right? And we'll have a delish Valentine's Day together."

"I'd like that," he said, sniffling.

I rubbed his head soothingly, then headed back around the desk. I motioned for Daisy to follow me, and we exited the office.

"Thank—," I started to say as she closed the door behind us.

She put a finger to my lips and shook her head. Right. No talking until we were out of earshot.

She motioned for me to follow, leading me down the stairs and along a corridor. We cut through the kitchen, dodging chefs who waved their ladles at us, suggesting in a not so eloquent fashion that we were unwelcome guests. But Daisy was a girl on a mission, pausing only to make one rude gesture at the most angry-looking chef. We exited at the far side, entering another corridor. I remembered this was the way Nick and I had escaped the raid on my first night in 1929. That seemed a million years ago.

Daisy pushed open one of the doors, and we stepped inside the room. She pulled it closed behind her and switched on the light. It was a small dressing room lined with vanity tables and mirrors. Painted with a crimson and gold motif, it was a little gaudy for my taste. Must be where the showgirls came to get dolled up before performances.

"We should be safe here," she said, fishing in her purse.

She pulled out a cigarette and lit it. It was then I noticed that her hands were shaking.

"Daisy, thank you so much," I said. I pulled her into a hug, careful not to burn myself on her cig. "You saved my life."

Daisy shrugged out of my hug. "No big deal," she said, eyes to the floor.

"Are you kidding me? He was going to shoot me. He was ready to shoot me dead. And you waltzed in there like some super heroine and got me out. I owe you everything."

Daisy blushed. She slumped down on one of the vanity table benches and took another drag off her cigarette. "You woulda done the same for me," she said.

I could feel the awkward tension in the room. "Daisy," I started, knowing I needed to clear the air but not quite sure what I was supposed to say. "About before…"

"Forget it, Louise," Daisy said, waving her hand. "It's okay. I've been thinking about what you said, and you're right."

"I was?"

"Yeah. I'm wasting my life here in this one-horse town. If I got such big Hollywood dreams, I gotta start pursuing 'em, or I'm just gonna rot away. Become a loser like my old man."

"I was actually talking about the other thing."

"Oh. You mean how I'm in love with you?" Daisy asked. Her words were matter-of-fact, but I could hear a hint of hysteria in her voice. "Yeah, I can't say I'm not disappointed. I mean, I had this dream, Louise. You and I goin' to Hollywood. Starting a life together. It woulda been terrif. But you know what? You can't force people to love you. Just like I couldn't force myself to fall in love with a fella. If it ain't in you, you're not going to fall in love with a girl. You ain't gonna fall in love with me. You've told me that before—so many times—but I never wanted to believe it. I just thought, well, maybe I could change your mind."

Her voice cracked on the last sentence, and she angrily swiped at her eyes. My heart broke for her, and I crossed the room to pull her into a warm hug. This time, she hugged me back, tightly. As if she never wanted to let go. Probably, she didn't.

"Just because I don't feel that way, doesn't mean another girl won't," I added. "I just know there's a person out there waiting for someone as special and wonderful as you are."

Daisy pulled away from the hug, smiling through her tears. "You think so, Louise? You really think so?" She sniffed. "'Cause I've been awfully lonely."

"I know so," I said in my most determined voice. I ruffled her little curly black head.

Daisy jumped to her feet. "Oh, I've been so selfish. Here we are discussing my problems when we should be going to rescue Sam!"

"You're right." I'd almost forgotten that we were only out of the frying pan. I may not have had a gun pointed at my face, but Sam was still locked up. "How are we going to get him out?"

Daisy grinned, reaching into her pocket and pulling out a set of keys. "With these!" she cried.

I stared at the keys, then up at her. "They give you keys to the place?"

Daisy laughed. "Nah, I pinched spares from Machine Gun last time I sucked on his toes. You know how gooey he is after a good suck. Figured they might come in handy some day."

"I think you figured right," I agreed excitedly. The day was suddenly looking up. Maybe, just maybe, there would be a happy ending to this story after all. "Let's go rescue Sam."

At first, I wondered if
perhaps Machine Gun had assigned some gangster types to guard Nick in his makeshift, gin-soaked prison, but when we got to the door, we found it unguarded. Finally, a win for the good guys. All the baddies were probably busy preparing for tomorrow's massacre.

Daisy unlocked and opened the door. "I'll stand guard," she declared. "Take care of any interruptions."

I smiled. She was such a good friend. Some woman would be lucky to have her someday. "Thanks, girl," I said, reaching over to give her a squeeze.

I made my way down the steps, feeling all Rescue Hero Girl. It was funny, really, me in the position of rescuing Nick. Back when I was in jail, I would fantasize daily about the reverse scenario: him bursting through the door, all Indiana Jones or Luke Skywalker on the Death Star, guns ablaze, demanding my freedom in the name of love.

Of course, that never happened. But it would be better to forget that now. The past was in the past. Well, technically it was in the future at the moment, but it was still equally unchangeable if my mission succeeded. Just because he hadn't managed to rescue me didn't mean I could just allow Nick to languish in a 1929 jail nearly eighty years earlier.

"Sam?" I called, wrinkling my nose as I descended the steps. The place reeked of a weird combo of rot and alcohol. "Are you down there?"

"You're back again?" Nick cried from the bottom of the stairs. His voice sounded weary and hoarse. "I've already told you everything I know. Which is nothing. Please…leave me alone."

Ugh. They had interrogated him after all. My mind flashed back to Iraq. Darkness. Screams from the next cell. Screams from my own mouth. The endless questions about the US Government that I didn't know the answers to. My inquisitors couldn't grasp the fact that I was only a civilian. A reporter. A simple girl who was definitely not a member of anyone's inner circle.

I shook my head. This was not the time to be thinking of that. I had a rescue to perform.

"Sam, it's me, Louise. I've come to rescue you."

I could hear his sigh of relief before I found him with my eyes. He was sitting in the corner of the room, knees pulled up to his chest. His hair was caked with grime, and he had a nasty cut above his left eye. I wondered how much of his dishevelment was due to the grenade and how much had been at the hands of the gangsters.

He rose to his feet, unsteady, his legs buckling under him, and took a step forward. He swayed a little, and I ran to his side to help him.

"What are you doing here, Louise?" he asked.

"Were you not listening?" I teased, hoping to brighten the mood. Seeing him in this state was causing tears to prick at the corners of my eyes. "I've come to rescue you,
silly."

"But why? And, for that matter, how? And where did you—?"

God, he couldn't stop playing reporter for one second, could he? No wonder he got all the good gigs at the network.

"The hows and whys can come later," I interrupted. "Right now we just need to get you out of here."

"I don't want to put you in any more danger," he protested, laying a hand on my arm, channeling Noble-but-Stupid Hero Guy. "What if the guards come back?"

"Don't worry. Daisy's guarding the door."

"Daisy?" He stared at me. "But she's like five-foot-nothing. How is she going to…?"

"Hey. I wouldn't underestimate Daisy if I were you," I said with a small laugh. "And didn't I ask you to stop with the questions? Jeez, you'd think you wanted to stay down here in this dark, musty old basement."

"Well, I do have a lifetime supply of gin down here," Nick remarked wryly, glancing over at the bottle-filled shelves.

"Yeah, yeah. Well, I'll buy the next round at the speakeasy if you move your butt now. Now let's go." He allowed me to lead him over to the stairs. "Can you climb up?" I asked.

"Yeah, I think so."

We took the steps one by one until we reached the top. My eyes widened as they fell upon Daisy, against the wall, making out with Tommy. What the—?

Daisy's eyes flew open, and she gestured for us to get out of there. Evidently this was how she'd decided to "take care of" any complications. And here I'd thought perhaps she knew some form of Kung Fu or had a gun. But hey, her way was probably much more effective, if not more unpleasant for her. I definitely owed her big time.

I led Nick down the hall and out a side door, breathing a sigh of relief when we hit the cold outside air. We had made it. Well, at least for the moment. I had to get him away from the speakeasy.

He shivered against me. I wrapped my arm around the small of his back and gave him a squeeze. "Hang in there, stud," I said, trying to keep my voice light. "We're going to get you somewhere safe."

We walked down the block and came across a sleazy-looking hotel around the corner. A ramshackle building with a saggy front porch in desperate need of paint. The type of place that probably charged by the hour. Just what we needed. Somewhere McGurn would never look. Not to mention someplace I could actually afford. The Rat had showed me where Louise kept her cash, but in a gesture of good faith, I'd already sent most of it to Daisy to pay back what she'd fronted to the Madame. (I didn't want the girl to postpone her dream trip to Hollywood on my account.)

"Here we go," I said. "We can get you cleaned up here."

We checked in as Mr. and Mrs. Valentine. Then we told the clerk that we didn't want to be disturbed under any circumstances. He gave Nick a once-over, evidently taking in his blood and dirt-stained clothing, winked slyly, and said he'd keep the Pope himself away if we gave him an extra buck. I reached for my wallet.

The room smelled of bleach, and the gray grungy carpet was stained with something unpleasant looking. There was a creaky metal-frame bed in one corner with a threadbare once-blue blanket thrown over it. Nothing else. But then, the normal clientele probably only required that particular piece of furniture.

I locked the door behind us, then walked over to the window and drew the curtains, my paranoia not content to lie back and admit we were safe. Then I turned back to Nick.

"Go ahead and get cleaned up," I suggested, gesturing to the adjoining bathroom. "Take your time."