Sweet Mercy (15 page)

Morris Tweed stood in the doorway at the other end of the ballroom. My index finger held the needle aloft over the spinning record. “Yes, Morris?” I asked.

“Begging your pardon for interrupting, Miss Eve, but Mr. Cyrus said I'd find you here.” His black-iris eyes shifted from me to Jones and back again. They were wide enough that those two dark spheres were stranded in a sea of white. I can only imagine what he thought he was interrupting.

“What is it, Morris?” I asked.

“Annie says she needs your help in the kitchen right away. One of the cooks done gone home sick just now.”

I swallowed my disappointment. It tasted bitter. “Tell her I'll be there in just a moment.”

“All right, I'll tell her. Thank you, Miss Eve.”

He gave a small nod and turned away. When he was gone, I looked at Jones. “Well,” he said, holding up the invoices, “I've got work to do anyway.”

“Yes. I do too, it seems.” I placed the needle on the armrest and turned off the phonograph. “Maybe another time, though?”

He nodded stiffly. “Maybe.”

My hand went to my pocket where my fingers found the St. Rita medal. I rubbed it like a worry stone as I made my way back to the kitchen.

T
he St. Rita medal was oddly comforting to me, even though I wasn't Catholic and I didn't know anything about praying to saints. I sent my nightly prayers straight to God and never doubted that He heard me. Daddy would have said the medal was like a lucky rabbit's foot, mere superstition, which is why I never showed it to him or to Mother. I had no intention of praying to St. Rita or anyone else, though the thought of carrying the medal with me as a sort of seal against loneliness was sorely tempting. But neither did I want to lose it, and in the end I decided to put it in my treasure box for safekeeping. That night, it took its place alongside the elephant from Al Capone and the brass ring from Marcus.

According to the word about town, Marcus was no longer working at the gas station. Sheriff Wiant had got him a job as an errand boy at City Hall in nearby Lebanon, the county seat, where the sheriff himself worked. I was both glad and relieved. That way, Marcus wouldn't be involved in Fludd's bootlegging operation anymore. And that way, I wouldn't
happen to see him should I glance across the street. Unless he came back to me, I didn't want to see him. If he didn't come back, I would have the brass ring as a keepsake of my first love.

In the morning, as I passed by the front desk on my way to the dining room, I was surprised to see Morris Tweed appear through a door behind the desk. It wasn't Morris that surprised me but the door. It was perpendicular to the desk and hidden by the wall that held the mailboxes and key hooks. Since Morris was carrying a wooden crate, he shut the door with a small tap of his foot. He moved toward the hall that avoided the dining room and led directly to the kitchen.

“Good morning, Eve,” Uncle Cy greeted me. “Sleep well?”

“Morning, Uncle Cy,” I said, but I didn't stay to talk. I hurried after Morris and reached him in the kitchen just as he was settling the crate on the table.

“Morris, where did you just come from?” I blurted.

He looked at me, brows raised. “Why, I was just bringing up these canned goods from the cellar, Miss Eve.”

Annie said, “And don't you leave until you get the top off that crate, you hear, Morris?”

“I'm doing that right now,” Morris said. Even as he spoke he worked the claw end of a hammer between the box and lid to loosen the nails.

“But I've only seen the outdoor entrance to the cellar,” I went on. “I didn't know there was a staircase behind the front desk.”

Morris nodded. He pried the lid off the crate and pulled out a can of baked beans. “Oh yes, Miss Eve. That way when we need something, we don't have to be going outside when the weather's bad.”

At the stove, Annie laughed as she stirred a pot of oatmeal. “What do you find so curious about that, honey?” she asked.

I shrugged. “Nothing, really. It's just, I've been here awhile now and never realized there was a door behind the desk.”

“Uh-huh,” Annie said. “A door and a long steep staircase. Right, Morris? He should know. He all the time going up and down those stairs.”

“That's right,” Morris said with a nod. As though to emphasize the stairs' steepness, he took a handkerchief out of his back pocket and ran it along his shimmering brow. “Seems like I'm forever carrying things up and down them stairs. Crates, boxes, bags of flour, all sorts of things.”

“Eve, honey,” Annie said. She settled the lid on the pot and moved to the Frigidaire, where she pulled out a carton of eggs. “Hester's still sick today. You going to be able to help me in the kitchen?”

“Sure, Annie,” I said. “Just let me eat some breakfast with Mother and Daddy first, and then I'll be back.”

“All right, honey. Just don't linger too long over your coffee. We got work to do.”

“Don't worry about that, Annie. I don't even drink coffee. That stuff's poison!”

Annie laughed lightly as I left the kitchen to join Mother and Daddy in the dining room.

It was nearly noon when Annie peered out the kitchen window and said, “There's one of them men from the camp. Let me fix him a little plate to eat, and you can carry it out there to him, Eve.”

She put together a ham sandwich and put it on a plate with
some potato salad and baked beans and handed it to me. “Oh, and take him a glass of nice cold water too,” she said, handing me that as well and holding open the door for me.

Link sat by himself on the grass, his back against the stone wall. His hands were behind his head and his eyes were closed, though his jaw worked as he chewed on a long blade of grass that poked out one corner of his mouth. I had to stop a moment just to admire how fine he looked as he sat there soaking up the sun. No denying he was a handsome man. If only the stock market crash hadn't interrupted his life and turned him into a bum, he'd probably be quite popular with the ladies.

“Haven't seen you in a while, Link,” I said.

He opened one eye, smiled. He pulled the piece of grass from his mouth and tossed it aside. “Why, hello, Eve. I was hoping you'd come out.”

“Where you been?”

“Oh, here and there. Wherever the work is. What have you got there?”

“A ham sandwich. Annie made it. You hungry?”

“Famished.” He sat up cross-legged and reached for the plate and fork and the glass of water. He patted the ground beside him. “Can you sit for a minute?”

I shrugged. “I guess. But not for long.” I sank to the grass, my legs to the side as I leaned my weight on one arm. As I watched Link take voracious bites of the sandwich, my mind wandered to the camp up the river. Surely it was full of hungry people, some who were maybe even worse off than Link.

The sandwich was almost gone and Link's mouth was full when he said, “I heard there was a raid at the station across the street last weekend.”

I nodded and looked out toward the river.

“I wonder what made the cops think there might be illegal liquor stored there. It makes them look pretty foolish, busting into a place like that and coming away with nothing.”

He went on but I couldn't hear his words over the sudden rush of emotion that rose up out of my chest and overflowed. “I saw that liquor with my own eyes,” I blurted, and the moment the words left my lips, I was sorry. I slapped a hand over my mouth and lowered my eyes.

Link was quiet a moment. Then he said, “You saw the liquor?”

Slowly I dropped my hand from my face. “I shouldn't have said anything.”

“Why not? What are you afraid I'm going to do?”

“I don't know.”

“You can trust me, Eve.”

“Can I?”

“Yes.”

Our eyes locked, but only briefly. I had to turn away, back toward the river.

“Now you'll go and try to get some of that liquor for yourself, I suppose,” I said.

Link laughed loudly at that. “I'm not going to buy any of that liquor, Eve. What makes you think that?”

“I already told you out in the boat, remember? The first time I met you, you asked if we had any liquor here at the lodge. If you wanted it then, you want it now.”

Link shook his head as he pushed his empty plate aside on the grass. “I was just joshing with you when I said that, Eve. Honest. Listen, I don't drink myself, okay? Or, not much anyway.”

“What do you mean by not much?”

“Well, let's see.” He smiled as he lifted his chin in thought. “It seems when my cousin got married back in '28, I imbibed in a little wine. Didn't get drunk though, if that makes any difference to you.”

“Where'd you get the wine?” I asked.

“My uncle's wine cellar,” Link said. “There wasn't a bottle at the wedding that hadn't been purchased before Prohibition, which means it was all perfectly legal.”

I felt my eyes narrow and my mouth become a thin line. “Are you telling me the truth, Link?”

His face turned serious. “Listen, Eve, I wouldn't lie to you.”

“How do I know? I really don't know you very well.”

“Then you should get to know me. And I should get to know you. Don't you agree?”

I paused, not quite sure how to respond. Finally I said, “I suppose.”

“Good.” He nodded and leaned a little closer. “So let's start with your telling me about the raid.”

“If I tell you, do you promise not to tell anyone else?”

“You have my word.”

As I searched his face, I had the sense that I could trust him. So I told him all that had happened, from Marlene's frantic phone call to Jimmy's showing us the liquor to Daddy and me going to Captain Macnish. I told him about the newspaper article calling the raid a bust, and how Calvin Fludd must have been tipped off and got rid of his entire stash before the cops showed up. And I told him too how Jimmy and Marlene had run away, and how I'd got the letter telling me they were married. While I talked, Link listened intently, never taking his eyes off me. He kept nodding, as though he were filing the story away somewhere in his mind.

When I finished, he said, “Well, I'm sorry you lost your best friend because of this.”

At first I thought he meant Marcus, until I realized he was speaking of Marlene. “She's glad for what happened,” I said. “She's happy to be married to Jimmy. It was all she wanted anyway.”

Before either of us could say more, Annie hollered at me from the kitchen doorway, “Eve! I thought you done wandered off and got lost. You been sitting out there all this time?”

“I'm sorry, Annie.” I stood and wiped at the seat of my dress.

“We got lunch to serve and tables to clear and you out there dillydallying.” She sounded stern but she was smiling.

I smiled back. “I'm coming right now!”

Link rose too and waved at Annie. “A mighty fine lunch,” he said. “Thank you kindly.”

“You're welcome, young man. You come on back whenever you need something to stop the hungries.”

“Thank you. I'll do that.”

I picked up the dirty dishes from the ground, but before I could move toward the lodge, Link grabbed my elbow. “Eve, what about Macnish?”

“Captain Macnish? What about him?”

“Do you trust him?”

“Why . . .” I paused. It was the same question I'd asked Daddy, but now I had my own answer. “Yes, I trust him.”

“You don't think he knew about Fludd before you told him?”

“No, I don't think so.”

“And you don't think he's getting paid off by Fludd like so
many others? You don't think he was the one who warned Fludd of the raid?”

I frowned and shook my head. “Why would Captain Macnish do that, knowing he'd end up a laughingstock when no liquor was found at the station?”

Link looked at me a long while. Then he said, “I suppose you're right.”

“But why, Link?” I said. “Why are you asking me this?”

Link paused a moment, then lifted his shoulders in a small shrug. “No reason, really. You'd best get on inside. Annie's waiting.”

With that, he gave my elbow a small squeeze and went on his way.