“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a few calls to make.”
Sam nodded. As he shut the door behind him, he turned to see Glenda hunched over her desk, sobbing quietly into a handkerchief.
15
“Fur and feathers,” Wanda began, then went on to expound on the shortcomings of Luke Gallo’s parentage, social standing, and personal habits.
Alistair sat in his chair in their office and listened until she wound down. She was only saying what they were both thinking. Whether he meant to or not, Gallo had screwed up their last chance at staying independent operators.
Well, he was doubtless sleeping with the fishes now, and good riddance to the backstabbing little creep. Thinking he was smarter than Sam—smarter than Sullivan—when he was dumb enough to go around shooting bootleggers on Fabiano’s behalf. He’d had a real high opinion of himself, Alistair guessed, and like most men who thought they were geniuses, he was an easy mark.
When Wanda ran out of steam, she said, “I’m going to start making calls, see if we can get the others in early.”
“Family meeting?”
“Family meeting.”
The apartment building Teresa and Reinhold lived in had a phone in the lobby, and Wanda was able to get them in soon. It took her longer to track down Doris and Philip. She even took on lioness form to summon her witch, Joel, though he usually stayed out of their business.
It took until late afternoon for everyone to arrive, Joel being the last since he had to wait until after his final appointment to close his tailoring shop. Holly was there as well, perched on one of the barstools with her ankles crossed. Philip poured everyone drinks without being asked.
“Well?” Doris asked, once they were all settled. “I assume it’s not good news, whatever you have to say.”
“You assume correctly.” Wanda gave them a quick rundown on everything. Holly clasped her hands in front of her mouth and Joel looked worried, but Teresa just exchanged a look with Reinhold.
“So we work for Sullivan now,” Doris said when Wanda finished.
“I could say we’re just getting our booze from him, but we all know it’s more than that,” Wanda said. “He controls the flow of liquor on the entire North Side now, including Towertown. We either do what he wants, or we close our doors, simple as that.”
“Then let’s close up shop,” Holly said.
Silence followed her pronouncement. Wanda’s golden eyes went wide, then narrowed. “How can you say that? We’ve poured our blood, sweat, and tears into this joint for four years. Everything we have is tied up in The Pride.”
Holly gripped her drink like it was a lifeline. “I know, but what if we just sell to Sullivan, pull up stakes, and get out of town?”
“Out of town?” Doris asked. “You want to leave Chicago?”
“It isn’t that easy,” Joel said. “I’ve spent years building my clientele here. It’s none of my business what you do with The Pride, though I thank you for including me in the discussion, but leaving Chicago is an entirely different prospect.”
Alistair shook his head. “I can’t leave—Sam works for Sullivan.”
“Yeah, why isn’t he here?” Doris asked.
“Because he already knows everything I’ve told you.” Wanda rose to her feet and started to pace. “Plus I wanted to let all of you know before opening tonight. There’s no easy answer here that I can see, but if anyone else has any ideas, I’m all ears.”
Philip put both elbows on the bar, frowning. “Is there anyone else we can cut a deal with? One of the smaller syndicates?”
“Sullivan isn’t going to let us out of our deal with him so we can go work with one of his competitors,” Wanda said. “And even if he would, it only puts off the inevitable.”
“What if he expects us to fight for him?” Doris asked, her pale yellow eyes darkening with worry.
“Let’s cross that bridge when we come to it.” Wanda glanced down at her wristwatch. “It’s getting late—time to get set up for opening.”
As they all drifted toward their various stations and Joel slipped away, Alistair finished his drink slowly. None of this was good, and it likely wasn’t going to get better.
No one was happy about being beholden to Sullivan, but they didn’t have much of a choice. And maybe Sullivan would be content to let them continue on as they had been. Maybe he would agree to only sell them unadulterated booze. Maybe there wouldn’t be any big changes, and once the gang war was over, things would go back to the way they had been.
Maybe. But he didn’t believe it.
