“Yes, you do. Not because I’m punishing you, or trying to make you feel guilty. I need to explain why I can’t step inside that car.” She couldn’t seem to help herself. Every word, no matter how much pain it caused her, let alone Ezekiel, couldn’t compare to what ate at her insides. “Archie is the father of Bessie’s baby. She won’t admit it, but why else would he hire her the way he did unless it was some kind of payment for beating her and taking advantage of her? She’s a child. Younger than I was when he—”
“Oh God, Honoree.”
“Don’t give me your rage. Archie never raped me. He slapped me around, but the first night I lay with him, I needed to be someplace other than the car’s rumble seat. It took a few months, but soon our relationship changed. I am resourceful, you see.” Her lips curled uncomfortably at the memories, and the knife of regret stabbed her in the gut, but bitterness followed. “We became business partners. You’re familiar with the idea. Just like the two of you are business partners.”
He turned and brushed a hand over her cheek, wiping her tears away.
“Not now, Ezekiel. I just can’t.”
“It’s okay. I understand. And you’re right. You shouldn’t leave Bessie.” Ezekiel walked her back to the kitchenette, but before he turned to leave, he asked her, “May I kiss you on the cheek?”
She shrugged without passion, without feeling, but with certainty. “Maybe tomorrow.”
* * *
Honoree tossed logic aside. Not a smart decision. Perhaps her worse decision of 1925. But Archie should pay for what he’d done to Bessie—and her.
Vengeance is mine . . . saith the Lord.
Her mother would quote the Bible when she was angry, and her favorite verse had lodged itself in Honoree’s mind. Except Honoree wanted things squared away with Archie Graves sooner than later.
He was Bessie’s baby’s father. She was convinced. Archie had beaten her, taken advantage of her, and deserved to have something terrible happen to him.
By Sunday night, her body trembled with rage, and her thoughts were a tune on repeat. Rising from the cot and putting aside a book she couldn’t recall reading, she put on a sleeveless black silk number with crystal beads and gold fringe dangling from the hem, and a neckline that plunged to her belly button. She told Bessie she was meeting Ezekiel and made her promise to stay put.
Honoree arrived at Miss Hattie’s, checked in on the barkeep working—Dewey, whose mood, as usual, was vile. In his office, Archie sat working on his books, as expected.
Honoree knocked and opened the door on aWho’s there?She entered his office and greeted him with a hesitating smile. “Hello, Archie.”
“What brings you here on a Sunday?” he said coolly. “Come to help me with my math?”
His broad nose and silly mustache annoyed her, but she swallowed her contempt. “You don’t need me. I’m sure Ezekiel takes care of that for you now. His math is better than mine.” She sat in the chair on the other side of his desk. “Rumor on the Stroll is you are the up-and-coming big cheese in policy gambling.”
She crossed her legs, keeping a close eye on Archie’s movements. Pretty soon, he would be pissed, and she had to gauge her distance. “You could be the next policy king. Mr. Buttons introduced you to some of his friends in high places, important people like the owner of theDefender, Mr. Abbott; the mayor; and the superintendent of the police department. To name a few.”
“What is it, Honoree? I don’t believe you’re here to pass the bull—” His voice dropped. “Not dressed in a slick number like that.”
She uncrossed her legs and broadened her shoulders. The next words from her mouth demanded her body be erect with an unbreakable spine to match her gumption. “Give me some money for Bessie.”
“Whatever the hell for?”
“’Cause she’s gonna have a baby, your baby, and you raped her, and she’s around fourteen years old—and the newspapers would love to get the story.” Brave and bold as she may sound, she still might faint if he came at her. “You have to do something for her, or—”
He hunched forward and growled. “Shut your trap. You better have some proof before you start spreading lies, missy. That kind of lie can get you badly hurt—you and your whore of a roommate.”
“Bessie didn’t tell me. I figured it out for myself, and it’s not a lie.”
“You wouldn’t recognize the truth if it were painted on the insides of your eyelids.” He opened the desk drawer and removed a cigar. “Whatever is in her belly ain’t my bastard.”
“Why did you hire her without her knowing how to dance?”
“That’s my damn business.” He rose and circled the desk, faster than a mad cow could fall over.
Honoree shot to her feet and backed toward the door. “I don’t believe you, but it doesn’t matter. You are making lots of dough these days.” The more she talked, the more courage she found. “I-I’ll just spread a rumor about you liking to mess around with children. I met Mr. Buttons. He’s a decent man and might change his mind about partnering with a man like you.”
Sweat beaded on his forehead, and he simmered, like a pot of overcooked stew. He slumped against the edge of his desk. “Sure, William Buttons is a good man, and Ezekiel worked on his good nature and convinced him to cancel our deal, but I won’t let you put me in another predicament with Buttons.” He took a puff from the cigar. “Ezekiel may have intervened for you this time, but next time, he won’t. We’ve got too much on the line.”
“What do you mean? What’s on the line?”
