Through the Night (30 page)

Chase stood with Valerie in the back of the line for the Chicago city tour as they waited for the excursion to begin. Once they boarded the bus, it would take them to various historical spots around the city, including Capone’s old speakeasy, the Garden Club, which was one of the last stops on the two-hour route.

Valerie shifted on her feet next to him. Since arriving, she seemed anxious, and he attributed her restless disposition to the new strain and tension between them. They’d been pleasant enough with each other throughout the afternoon, but it was that mental and emotional separation she’d put between them that was killing him.

For her, it was all about self-preservation. But for him, with every moment that passed he could feel her slipping further and further away. She’d avoided all physical contact with him, and even now he had to resist the urge to take her hand in his, just because he wanted to be close to her.

But her body language screamed
don’t touch me,
and for now, he respected those boundaries. Later, once they were through with this tour and hopefully walked away with the ruby, all bets were off. The battle for her, for them, had only just begun, and he wasn’t letting her walk out of his life without a fight. Even if that meant tying her to his bed and showing her what it felt like to be completely and thoroughly loved.

Yeah, he liked that idea, he thought with a small smile. A lot.

After casting a quick look at Valerie to make sure she was doing okay, he glanced around at the couple of dozen people going on the same tour. Most looked like out-of-town tourists, and he was amused at the costumes that some of them wore, which the tour guides encouraged for fun. A couple of men were dressed up like old-time gangsters, with long coats and fedoras, and a few of the women had worn flapper dresses with bobbed wigs or tight curls. It wasn’t Chase’s thing, but he had to admit that it added to the roaring twenties atmosphere of the tour.

Ultimately, all he really cared about was getting to the Garden Club. If he’d been able to get into the place on his own, they wouldn’t be standing in this line now. It was a frustrating but necessary process.

Earlier, he and Valerie had gone over the lyrics of the “Madonna Mia” song Capone had written, most of which he’d memorized because he’d read it so many times since finding it posted online. There was no doubt in his mind that there were clues in those lyrics, and now that he had the ivory key in his possession, he was certain that once he was in the underground speakeasy, this time he’d be able to figure out what, exactly, the key unlocked. And with luck, the ruby would be waiting for him.

Chase pushed his hand into the front pocket of his jeans and fingered the smooth ivory key, which prompted images of the glimmering red stone to flash in his mind and was usually accompanied by a rush of energy that made his heart pound in excitement.

This time, the sensation was diminished, as was that urgent need to find the ruby. There was a sense of anticipation, but that sole desire to claim the jewel—a prize that would undoubtedly give him a bit of notoriety and put him in the spotlight for discovering a long-lost treasure directly related to Capone—no longer felt like a driving force in his life.

He’d be lying if he said he didn’t want to find the priceless jewel, but now he knew he didn’t
need
it. He had nothing to prove to himself any longer, and especially not to the family that had never supported him. He’d gladly give it all up if he could have the one and only thing he truly wanted: Valerie.

He belonged with Valerie, wherever that may be. He’d spent years traveling from one place to the next for his job, never really calling any one place home. His condo in Chicago had been more of a stop-over, a place to stay in between jobs. There was nothing personalized about the residence because there had been nothing and no one to come home to. He was ready to change all that, to settle down and plant permanent roots somewhere with the woman he loved.

Now it was just a matter of getting her on the same page as him.

“Okay, gangsters and madams, we’re getting ready to start the tour,” their guide announced to the crowd, pulling Chase out of his thoughts, a diversion he welcomed for now. “Please have your tickets out and ready before you get onto the bus.”

The boarding process began, and since they’d been standing near the end of the line, most of the seats were taken by the time he and Valerie climbed onto the bus. They took the only two open seats next to each other near the back, and she sat down by the window. He settled next to her by the aisle, and couldn’t help but notice how she was looking around at everyone, a frown on her face. Then she rubbed her arms and shivered.

“Are you cold?” he asked, even though he didn’t think that was the case. Despite last night’s storm, the temperature had risen into the mid-seventies today, and there was no draft inside the bus.

“No. I just…” She shook her head, but her expression remained troubled. “It’s nothing.”

Something
was bothering her, even if she couldn’t pinpoint what, exactly. Clearly, she was anxious and uneasy, and it made Chase even more aware of their surroundings, too, but nothing seemed amiss. From what he could see, everyone appeared excited about the tour, and there wasn’t anything that made him uncomfortable. The only recent threat was Angie, and she’d been arrested and was probably still in jail back in Vegas.

For the next hour and a half, Chase and Valerie went through the motions of the tour, which included Chinatown, the Sicilian neighborhood of Little Italy, and many of the mobster hangouts, including the location of the notorious Valentine Day’s Massacre. At some of the places, the bus stopped so everyone could get out and see the landmark up close or take photos. Other times, they just drove past the historic site as the guide gave a running commentary.

Finally, the bus pulled into a parking lot between two old buildings and across from the Green Mill Lounge, an establishment famous for serving many gangsters back in the day. Capone’s speakeasy was located in the basement of one of the buildings, and everyone piled out of the bus for the walking portion of the tour.

Valerie kept close to his side but appeared distracted as she watched a man dressed up like an old-time gangster who seemed to be on the tour by himself. The angle of his fedora kept Chase from seeing his face, but for the most part the guy had kept to himself during the course of the trip. From what Chase could determine, he didn’t pose any kind of threat, and he even stayed more toward the front of the group and away from the two of them.

Still, Chase wasn’t taking any chances. Making sure that Valerie was safely in front of him and within his line of sight, he remained at the back of the line with her as the guide led the way to a secured and gated door at the side of one of the buildings. He unlocked the door with a set of keys attached to his belt loop, then switched on a set of overhead lights before everyone followed him down a few flights of stairs that led to a series of mazelike tunnels under the building and into the bar.

The first stop was the actual speakeasy, the Garden Club, owned and operated by Al Capone. Everyone filtered into the spacious underground bar, which was musty from being empty and unused for decades, but had been kept clean and dust free for the tours. As the guide did his spiel and spouted interesting historical facts, and tourists snapped pictures, Chase looked at the establishment through new eyes, searching for something that tied into the lyrics of the song and provided some kind of slot for his ivory key.

Valerie did the same thing, her gaze sweeping the area for the very first time, her expression one of wonder as she took in the vibrant mural on the wall behind the bar depicting a garden of roses and lily of the valley flowers, which matched the ivory cane top and the inlay entwining around the walking staff.

He leaned close to her, keeping his voice low since the guide was still speaking. “Pretty amazing, huh?”

She smiled at him, the first genuine show of enthusiasm since their earlier discussion back at his ranch house. “It’s the quaint Italian garden from the song,” she whispered in awe. “It’s gorgeous.”

The revitalized sparkle in her eyes told him she was back in the game with him, and lifted his spirits, too. He took a chance and slipped his hand in hers and gave it a squeeze, and this time she didn’t pull away.

“To the right of the mural, you’ll see a sun and moon panel built into the wall that has all the mechanisms of a clock,” the guide said, drawing everyone’s attention to the decorative piece. “But that clock was merely a decoy for what the panel was really used for. There was always a watchman on Capone’s payroll standing outside the building on the sidewalk, and whenever he saw police approaching, he operated a lever which would cause a sliding panel to drop over the sun, and would then show the moon portion of the clock, as it does now. This was the signal to everyone in the bar that the cops were in sight and for them to hide the alcohol in various trapdoors, stop gambling, and to make sure there was nothing illegal left that would get the patrons arrested.”

Murmurs of fascination rippled through the crowd, and even Valerie looked impressed by the silent alarm system. “Capone certainly knew how to cover his ass,” she whispered to him.

He chuckled quietly. “The guy had a lot to lose. But yeah, he was a master at deceiving people, and especially law enforcement.”

After a few more minutes, the guide wrapped up his monologue about the speakeasy and Prohibition era, then announced the next stop on the underground portion of the tour—the adjoining brothel that was located down one of the tunnels. The bordello was one of the highlights of the tour and generated a good amount of interest because of the forbidden aspect of the prostitution trade in the 1920s. While everyone filtered out of the Garden Club and back through one of the connecting tunnels, Chase pulled Valerie into a shadowy alcove, where they waited until the voices faded away and they were finally alone.

Chase glanced at his watch to gauge the time. “We only have about twenty minutes to find that keyhole before the tour leaves the building. If we’re not with the group at that point, we’re locked in until tomorrow’s tour comes along.”

She looked alarmed by the possibility. “Then let’s get to work.”

They walked to the middle of the illegal barroom, which was clear of any tables or chairs that might once have occupied the place back in its heyday, and surveyed the area around them with critical eyes that looked for the clues they’d discussed that afternoon before arriving at the tour.

Chase went over the lyrics in his mind as they both contemplated the mural, which was the focal point of both the song and the bar, knowing it
had
to tie in together somehow with the key in his pocket.

“Didn’t the song have a line about the starry sky above and the stars being all aglow?” Valerie asked, her gaze focused above the main mural as she searched for some kind of connection to the lyrics.

“Yes. There’s the stars, right over there.” He pointed to the faded white stars painted on the wall. “But I’m more interested in the sun and the moon panels that slide over the clock. There’s another line in the song about only one moon above, and one golden sun, and I’m wondering what’s beneath that panel that’s currently dropped over the sun.”

It would make sense that over the years the clock and panel would corrode from disuse. From where they were standing, it all looked like a part of the mural, but both the knowledge Chase had gleaned from various sources and his gut feeling told him that the sun and the moon elements of the mural were crucial components to finding the ruby.

“I need to take a closer look at the sliding sun and moon panels, and the clock, too,” he said, and headed behind the long wooden bar with Valerie following close behind.

He lifted himself onto the wooden counter built against the wall that at one time held shelves of booze. Standing up straight, his height put him eye level with the sun and moon contraption, and the clock that no longer worked and was frozen in time.

Standing this close, he realized that the sun and moon were carvings inset into the wood, and he could see a small square keyhole located on the face of the clock. A key was needed to wind up the clock’s gears. Clearly, the opening did not match the slot and grooves of the ivory key.

Hands on his hips, he studied the cleverly constructed system and how the flat wooden panel had been lowered over the sun, so only the moon was completely exposed. Curious to know what was beneath, he reached up and tried to push the cover up, but it barely slid on its tracks. The mechanisms were old, rusty, and warped from weather and time. Putting a bit more muscle behind his attempt, he shoved a bit harder, gradually forcing the panel all the way up until the sun was on display, instead of the moon.

He inhaled sharply as his gaze fell on a keyhole positioned in the middle of the sun. To the casual observer, it looked like it was somehow part of the pulley system the gangster had designed, but Chase knew better. This slot was different from the one on the clock, and he was pretty damn certain the ivory key would slide inside it without any hindrance.

“Is that it?” Valerie asked, her hushed tone filled with expectation.

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure it is. We’re going to find out for sure in just a second.” His chest tightened with anticipation, and he had to wipe his sweaty palms down his jeans-clad thighs before retrieving the ivory key from his front pocket. Once he had it in his hand, he held his breath as he inserted the tip into the lock and turned it. He heard a double click, then another snick of sound as the carved sun released from its tight casing.

“Okay, that’s
very
cool,” Valerie said from somewhere behind him, and he had to agree.

With a careful twist and a gentle tug, he was able to remove the face of the sun … and found himself staring at a small, very dusty gray pouch tucked in a tiny compartment behind the panel. Knowing time was ticking, he grabbed the bag and its bulky contents and jumped down from the counter. With hands that were shaking, he opened the drawstrings and let whatever was inside fall into his palm.