Ghostsnaps (Knead to Know Book 4) (10 page)

She scrunched her nose. “I’ve visited a couple of . . . special clubs. So long as they haven’t been raided, we could try them. They are all on the North side.” A smile eased over her lips. “And why not? A dying woman is allowed to have some fun.”

We stood outside my bakery, only it wasn’t a bakery. It was a Barbershop—and currently closed. Jeanette had watched us leave the house with a cool, thoughtful expression, refusing to come with us, though Josephine invited her.

“This way,” Josephine said, looking right then left down the empty street before slipping into the alley. She knocked on the bright green door.

It cracked open.

“One-eyed moose,” she said.

The door pushed opened and it was hard not to break into a grin. It was just so cool. I was visiting a genuine 1920s speakeasy!

Inside the entrance, a long narrow hallway, lined with well-stocked shelves, took us toward the front of the building. It looked nothing like my bakery. The bouncer eyed us, but a moment later, a wall swung open and we went through. Two more armed men in suits were in the next room. The hatch in the floor was open, and I followed Josephine down the stairs.

Butterflies danced in my stomach as the sound of laughter and music lifted up from the cellar. “This is fantastic,” I said.

Josephine smiled, already swaying to the music. “I adore dancing.”

The packed room was low ceilinged and smelled like a musty basement mixed with liquor and sweat, but no one seemed to care. Small tables were buzzing with laughter and conversation, and alcohol was flowing. Almost immediately, Josephine was pulled onto the floor by someone she hopefully knew well.

I pushed through the crowd toward the makeshift bar. I had no idea what the drink was that the bartender handed me, but I took it. It was clear and smelled a little bit like gasoline. I took a small drink and it nearly boiled my throat on the way down. I blew out a breath, half expecting to see fire, but recovered quickly enough. When I was sure I wasn’t permanently damaged, I scanned the faces in the room, trying not to linger on anyone long enough for it to appear like an invitation. There was only one man I wanted to talk to tonight.

The longer I went without finding Baker, the antsier I was to leave, but Josephine was still on the dance floor, having the time of her life. And that’s exactly what she should be doing with only a month to live if we couldn’t save her. I resigned myself to having to find Baker another night. I finished my drink with a grimace. Alcohol had certainly improved.

“Hey, doll, looks like you need to wet your whistle.” A man put his arm over my shoulders. “The name’s Alfred.”

I fought the urge to glare at him, while I mentally translated what he said.

“That would be great,” I shouted over the music, giving him a faint smile. He was short (about the same height as me) with round red cheeks and yellowish eyes. Out of habit, I turned with him toward the bar to make sure he didn’t drop anything in my drink. He didn’t look like much, but people kept greeting him as they went by. Maybe he’d have an idea who Baker was and where I could find him.

“First time?” he shouted.

I nodded. “How’d you know?”

“I would have remembered a keen dame like you.”

“Do you come here a lot?”

“Every night.” He winked at me. “I own the joint.”

“Really?” I asked, suddenly more interested in old Alfred. “Maybe you can help me. I’m actually looking for someone.”

Alfred handed me another drink—the same swill I downed before. He must have saved the good stuff for himself. He leaned in close. “Would you like to come up to my office?”

I pulled back gently. There was no way in hell that was going to happen.

He grabbed hold of my arm, his face turning red.

“Hey, baby, what’s a swell tomato like you doing with this palooka?” The voice behind me laughed heartily as Alfred turned his glare to him. Then the anger disappeared from Alfred’s face and he shook hands with the man behind me.

My heart stopped. I closed my eyes as they filled with involuntary tears. It wasn’t him. It wasn’t him. It couldn’t be. I wasn’t that lucky. He wouldn’t be in the first place we checked.

Alfred laughed, half shouting over the music. “Baker, you ragamuffin. Where’ve you been? What do you know?”

I pulled my arm away from Alfred and turned. Then immediately lost all ability to speak. It was him. From his infectious grin to the kindness in his eyes. Nothing had changed. Well, his face was slightly different. A little harder around the edges, and his nose looked like it had been broken more than a few times. I wanted to throw my arms around him. “Baker,” I whispered.

Alfred didn’t hear me, but Baker obviously did.

His smiled faltered for just a moment. “That’s my name, baby. Have we met?” He offered me his hand, curiosity brimming in his eyes.

I put my hand in his and his skin crackled against mine. All air evaporated from my lungs. “God, I’ve missed you.” I couldn’t help it. It slipped out because it was so true. I had missed him terribly.

He blinked and his eyebrows knitted together, but his shock was short lived. He looked back at Alfred as if nothing had happened. As if the earth had not stopped moving and lightning hadn’t just struck between us. “How’d the likes of you get a Moll this fine to come to a juice joint like this? You need a ride home, baby? Ol’ Baker’s your fella. Stay far away from this bimbo and his office, if you know what I mean.”

Alfred slipped his arm around my waist. “This choice bit of calico is mine.” The words and the tone were good-natured enough, but something sinister lined them.

I snorted before I could stop myself. “I don’t think so.” I removed Alfred’s hand from my waist and edged toward Baker.

Alfred’s open palm came flying toward me, but Baker’s hand was faster than mine, catching him by the wrist. “I think it’s time you walk away.” Baker’s smile was hard and unforgiving. “Before I forget my manners.”

“It’s my club.”

“Who provides the gin? I’d hate to have to take you for a ride and find this juice joint a new owner.”

Alfred immediately disappeared into the crowd, his face so red it nearly matched his gaudy tie.

My mind scrambled to keep up with what they were saying. “Did you just threaten to kill him?”

Baker’s gaze stayed on me as I watched Alfred walk, making sure he got far away from me. “Welcome to Chicago. He won’t bother you again tonight, but don’t come back here,” he finally said. “It’s best if you stick with me the rest of the evening.”

I finally looked back at him, expecting the mischievous grin that promised there was fun to be had. Or the softness he always had around me. That wasn’t what I got, though. His jaw was hard and his eyes were filled with deadly intent as he stared down at me.

“But before any of that, you best tell me how you know who I am, before I’m forced to take drastic measures.”

My mouth fell open.

“I don’t like hurting dames, but that doesn’t mean I won’t do it. Start talking. Who sent you?” he growled.

I shook my head. “No one. I came to find you. Baker—”

“You see, baby, you keep sayin’ my name like you know me, but ol’ Baker here has a hell of a good memory and I’d never forget gams like those or a face like that. So one more time before I lose my temper, who sent you and what do they want?”

My heart sank. I didn’t know what I thought would happen when I found him. Maybe I expected that he’d feel our future even if he didn’t understand it. At the very least, I’d assumed he’d give me the benefit of the doubt, but now even that didn’t seem likely, given his reaction to my knowing his name. I stood on my tiptoes and leaned in close, resting my hands against his chest. “I know what you are,” I whispered in his ear. “And I need to talk to you, but not here.”

Though I didn’t think it possible, his shoulders hardened even further. “Do I look like a pushover? You don’t know anything. Get out of here before I change my mind and let Alfred have you.”

“Chol.” That was all it took for the dam to break. Baker grabbed my arm and dragged me to the stairs. I stopped, refusing to be taken further, before he got me to the door. He glanced back, shock clear on his face as I jerked my arm from his grasp. I may not have looked it, but my vampire half was strong. “No.” I wanted to talk to him, but I wasn’t leaving Josephine in this place.

Baker stalked toward me. “You wanted my attention? Well, you have it. I will pick you up and carry you out if you do not come with me now.”

I shook my head. “If you try, you’ll be humiliated in front of everyone. I don’t go anywhere I don’t want to go, even with you. I do want to speak with you, but I came here with a friend and I won’t leave her. Find her and we’ll all go together.”

“Which one is she?” he asked.

“The human in a red dress with black hair.”

He gave me a double look. “The human?” He shook his head, then scanned the room until he spotted her. He leaned in close (he still smelled the same). I rested my hand lightly against his shoulder. “Don’t move a muscle,” he said into my ear.

After a few minutes, he was back, holding a smiling, laughing Josephine by the arm. She had a drink in her hands and a cigarette between her fingers.

“Maggie,” she called, tossing back the rest of her drink and putting out her cigarette before throwing her arms around me. “Have you met Baker? Isn’t he swell?”

I blinked. “Yes. I like him.” I glanced over at the man in question who was still frowning at me. “We should go.”

“But what about finding your friend?” Josephine protested, looking longingly at the dance floor.

“We found him.” I nodded back toward Baker.

“Him?” She hooked her thumb over her shoulder. “Well, hot dog,” she slurred. “That was easy.”

I helped her up the stairs, with Baker following close behind. The cool air crashed against my skin and I breathed easy for the first time since I’d gotten stuck in 1923. Everything was going to be fine. Baker would know what to do.

We half carried Josephine back to her house. Baker laid her on the couch in her office while I stood by the fireplace, unlit tonight.

“Who are you?” he asked.

I turned and looked at him. “Maggie Edwards.”

Smooth as silk, a gun I hadn’t even seen him pull cocked in his hand and slowly lifted toward my face. “Talk. I know every single person I’ve ever told what I am and, baby, you aren’t one of them. Spill or I fill you with holes. We’ll get to the truth eventually.” He redirected the gun at my knee.

Well, this was a great start. “I’m from the future.” His finger tightened on the trigger and I flinched. “No, really. Just hear me out. I do know you. We dated.”

“In the future?” He shook his head. “Not possible and if it was possible…” He waved the gun. “It’s not. What’s your next story?”

“I don’t have another story because this is the truth.” Impatience and doubt were the only clear emotions on his face. He was actually going to shoot me. “I can prove it,” I blurted.

“Dazzle me.” His eyes narrowed.

I scrambled to think of something, anything, that he told me that no one else would know. The problem with that was that Baker never told me anything, at least not anything that was true.

“You are a chol. You were on the governing council for the Abyss and you hated it so you left, and that’s why you planted yourself with the humans—”

“Baloney. You aren’t from the future. But you did tell me something useful. The council sent you. They are the only ones who would know what you just said. No way would I tell that to some dame, not now, not ever.”

I threw up my arms. “You’re secretive. What do you expect? Most of what I know I had to piece together after you told me about the Abyss and finally stopped lying to me. I knew you ran with O’Banion’s crew. You’ve told me stories about bootlegging and about what happened after O’Banion was killed. I don’t know how to prove I am what I say I am because all the stuff that will happen won’t take place for another ninety-three years. Do you think it was easy for me to come to you? It wasn’t. But I need your help. I need you to be the Baker I know and love.”

His finger loosened. “I told you about the Abyss?”

I nodded.

His tongue ran over his bottom lip. “Why would I do that?”

I covered my face with my hands. “It’s a long story.”

Baker slowly lowered the gun and sank into the white chair by the fireplace. “I’ve got all night.”

I sat down next to him and even though he had just threatened to shoot me, I couldn’t help but smile. It was Baker. I wanted to smother his face in kisses. He was just on edge. I knew how crazy all of this had to sound.

“You’re really stuck on me, huh?” He grinned, suddenly looking even more like himself. “So tell me your story, Maggie Edwards. Don’t leave a thing out. Start with O’Banion dying. What exactly happens to him?”

I chewed on my thumbnail. That was the only flaw in this plan. I couldn’t tell him everything. I had already said too much. If telling him what was going to happen changed his choices, then my whole future was in jeopardy. What if he never met Holden? What would have happened to Olivia and Holden without Baker? What if he never went to find me? The last thought stopped me cold. If he never found me, then I wouldn’t need to be here now. My life would never have changed. I’d still be normal. But would I want to be normal if it meant no Baker, no Phoenix, no Holden and Olivia or the kids…no Boone? “If I tell you, couldn’t it change the future?”