“Not necessarily. But that fella ends up shot behind my club, and then Mr. Green starts showing up?” Honor shook her head. “I don’t like coincidences. No one does, if they want to survive in this business. I’m saying his timing makes me curious, especially since there’s no word yet who he’s working for here in New York.”
“What makes you think he’s working for anyone?”
“He might not be,” Honor admitted, leaning back in her chair. “That’s what I want you to find out. Spend some time with him. Find out what he’s doing in the city. Find out if he knows anything that I should know. Would that really be such a hardship?” Honor smiled. “I was watching you last night. It looked like the two of you were getting along pretty well already.”
Theyhadbeen getting along pretty well. And the fact that Honor knew it and didn’t seem bothered by it—even though she had deliberately set out to fluster Vivian throughout their meeting, even though she admitted she’d been watching Vivian last night—pricked Vivian’s pride. “And if there’s nothing odd about him at all?” she demanded, hoping she didn’t sound defensive. “If it turns out he’s just some Chicago bootlegger who moved back home to be close to his old dad or something?”
“Then you’ve just spent a little extra time with a new friend. But if you find out anything more interesting than that, you let me know. Ifyou hear anything around the club, or learn anything about the dead man, you let me know. And hopefully one way or another, I end up with enough to satisfy the people who are threatening to shut the Nightingale down if they don’t get answers. What do you say, pet? Sound fair?”
“That depends.”
Honor lifted a puzzled eyebrow. “On what?” she murmured as she leaned forward again, her deep red lips curving up.
Vivian leaned forward in response, her eyes never leaving the other woman’s as she smiled. “On what you say next,” she said, matching her tone to Honor’s. “Because you still haven’t told me the dead fella’s name.” As Honor blinked in surprise, Vivian leaned back, not bothering to sound sultry this time. “I saw your face that night. You recognized him. And unless you tell me, you aren’t serious about having me find anything out. If that’s the case, I’ll say thanks for the bail money and walk out that door.”
Honor pursed her lips, then sighed. “You’re a suspicious girl, Vivian. Yes, I’d seen him around before. His name was Willard Wilson.”
Vivian made a face. “Did his parents hate him?”
“Someone did,” Honor said dryly. “He got shot, after all. So what do you think?”
“I think you had a good reason to tell me to forget about it, and that I should listen to what you said then, not what you’re saying now. I don’t think I’m the girl for the job.”
Honor raised her eyebrows. “I think you are.”
“And you’re never wrong?”
“Everyone’s wrong sometimes. But I’m rarely wrong about people.” She leaned forward again, her hand brushing against Vivian’s once more. “And neither, I think, are you.”
Vivian pulled her hand deliberately away and took a deep breath. Honor’s flirting might throw her off balance, might make her blush, but it didn’t make her stop thinking.
“Maybe you’re right,” she said. “I get to know a lot of people aroundthe Nightingale. People like to talk to me, and they can say some pretty revealing things when a friendly girl looks at them with big eyes or laughs with them in the powder room. So sure, I could probably find out a thing or two that would help you.” Her heart was beating fast, and she didn’t take her eyes off Honor. “But what I think right now is that you’re not sure how to get me to say yes, so you’re trying your best to distract me into agreeing. I think you could’ve easily been dressed and ready when I got here, but you decided not to be. And I think that if I do say yes, you’re not planning to tell me the whole truth about what you already know, which makes me wonder why you want me to bother in the first place.”
Vivian looked away at last, draining the rest of her whiskey and setting the glass down with a sharp motion. “And no, I’m rarely wrong about people. But go ahead and tell me if I am this time.”
Honor’s eyes had grown wider with each word, and by the time Vivian finished speaking, the club’s owner was speechless for a full ten seconds. “Well,” she said at last, a wry expression creeping across her face as she shook her head. “Not this time, no.”
Vivian stood up. “Thanks for the bail money then, Ms. Huxley. If you need some other favor, you can always ask. But I think you know my answer to this one.”
Her heart was hammering as she turned to leave, waiting for Honor to make her stop, to tell her she wasn’t welcome at the Nightingale anymore—anything. But she made it all the way to the door before the other woman spoke.
“I don’t usually take no for an answer, Vivian.”
Vivian, her hand on the doorknob, paused but didn’t turn around. She swallowed, then lifted her chin, even though Honor couldn’t see her face. “First time for everything,” she said, as flippantly as possible.
She heard Honor’s short, surprised laugh as she pulled the door closed. Her heart was still beating fast by the time she made it down to the first floor.
ELEVEN
Bea was waiting for her downstairs, sitting at the bar with one foot tapping anxiously. The bartender whose name Vivian could never remember was sweeping up in one corner, but other than that, the room was empty. Bea sprang to her feet when Vivian appeared at the door.
“Everything okay?”
Vivian hesitated. She and Bea told each other everything. And she desperately wanted to talk things over with her friend, hoping for reassurance that she had made the right call—the safe call—for once in her life.
But she didn’t know what would happen now that she’d turned down Honor’s favor. And she didn’t want to force Bea to get any more mixed up in things than she already was. They had been the ones to find the dead man. But as long as no one knew that…Forget you saw anything.
“Just fine,” Vivian said, her voice as sunny as she could make it. “She just wanted to make sure I was okay after last night. Favor’s cominglater, it seems.” She shrugged. “Guess I’ll have to wait to find out what it is, but right now, I’m beat. Ready to head home?”
