“Abraham said he picked Pearlie up from here after work once, him and some friend of his.” Bea’s hands, resting by her sides, were clenched into fists. “They were both roaring drunk, and Pearlie’s talking a mile a minute at the top of his voice as they’re staggering out, like he’d do when he was all worked up or excited. Bragging about how he’s got his hands on some cash and there’s more where that came from.”
“And anyone could have heard him.”
“Yeah,” Bea agreed quietly. “I’m sorry I got so sour with you. Looks like you were right about the necklace.”
“But not about Abraham,” Vivian pointed out. “So I’m sorry I said anything about him.”
“He’s been so good through all this mess, Viv, you have no idea. He kept an eye on the kids when I was out yesterday so they wouldn’t be alone. And he’s been picking Mama up from work so she can get home quicker in the evening.”
“Not to mention that he treats you real well.” Vivian thought about saying more but kept her mouth shut in the end. She wasn’t convinced yet that Abraham didn’t have anything to do with the letters. She didn’t want him to be in that kind of business. But until they talked to the pawnbroker, there was no way to know whether he had told the truth or not.
But her comment made Bea smile, though the expression was still haunted. “He does treat me real nice, doesn’t he?”
“And now we’ve got something to go on,” Vivian pointed out. “Tomorrow we can go to that pawnshop—”
Bea broke in, shaking her head. “Viv, you know better than that. What do you think would happen if I walk into a pawnshop and started asking questions about things that might’ve been stolen? Even if the owner is willing to talk…” She scowled. “All that would happen is I’d end up in trouble with the police.”
The quickstep was racing toward its finish. It would be time for Bea to be back on the bandstand soon; Mr. Smith was already glancing her way with raised eyebrows, wondering why she was still hovering near the bar.
“Then I’ll do it,” Vivian said firmly. She thought about Florence, about that gun pointed at her on the dark street, Mrs. Henry’s tired, sad eyes as she lost yet another member of her small family, Mr. Guzman saying he didn’t want any more trouble. “This is the first chance we’vereally had to figure out who’s behind those letters, Bea. I’m not sleeping on that.”
Bea gave her a skeptical look, then sighed as she gave the bandleader a little wave to show she was on her way. “If you say so, Viv. But I’m starting to think this is something that can’t be solved. We just have to survive it as best we can.”
It was too similar to what Honor had said to her in that small, dark apartment. Vivian watched Bea cross the floor, weaving through clusters of patrons and hurrying waitresses, giving her hair a fluff and her shoulders a shimmy before she took her spot in front of the microphone, a wide smile on her face as the quickstep wrapped up. The bandleader gave a fast count—no mercy for the dancers tonight—and launched directly into the opening bars of “After You’ve Gone,” played hotter than Vivian had heard it before. Bea’s voice filled the dance hall, bold and beautiful and rich as honey. But in spite of the atmosphere of sweaty, stolen fun, Vivian shivered.
Just hoping to survive wasn’t enough for her. Not anymore.
She was about to turn back to the bar—Danny was giving her a stern look, warning her it was time to get back to work—when a figure on the other side of the dance floor caught her eye.
Had someone actually let Bruiser George into the Nightingale?
Vivian craned her neck, trying to spot him through the crowd; when she couldn’t, she began to push her way across the dance floor. Good-natured curses and an occasional sharp “Watch it!” followed her. But she dodged between the dancing couples, glancing around breathlessly as she reached the other side.
He wasn’t there.
Vivian frowned, spinning in a circle as she stared at all the people around her. None of them were George. None of them even looked enough like him to have been mistaken for him from across a crowded, dimly lit room.
Had she imagined him?
“Viv?”
The quiet voice at her elbow made her jump. “Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, Ellie, don’t sneak up on a girl like that,” she gasped, trying to laugh off her nervousness.
“Sorry.” Mousy, pretty little Ellie gave her a hesitant smile, but she couldn’t manage to hold on to it for long. Her face fell into something far more serious as she scooted closer. “I heard you and Bea talking about some letters, just now. I think I know the ones you’re talking about. Someone’s making people—”
“Wait a sec,” Vivian said quickly, glancing around. She still didn’t see anyone who looked like Bruiser George, but she didn’t want to take any chances. Across the room, she could see another waitress just ducking into the dressing room on her break. Vivian gave Ellie a little push toward the door to the back hall. “Let’s talk out in the alley.”
Vivian glanced around when they got outside, using her foot to slide a stray brick in front of the door to prop it open a little. The electric light from inside the club spilled out, jumping over stacked crates and colliding with the walls that surrounded the narrow, gloomy space. There was no one else out there, but Vivian pulled Ellie a few steps away from the door, just in case.
“What do you know about letters?” Vivian asked, keeping her voice down.
“I heard Alba talking about them a couple days ago,” Ellie said quietly. “The ones that say to hand over something you own that’s valuable if you don’t want something bad to happen. That the same thing you and Bea were talking about?”
“Yeah,” Vivian said cautiously. “Why do you ask?”
“I know someone who got one of those,” Ellie said, wrapping her arms around herself as she spoke, as if what she was saying scared her. “I have a neighbor—you might’ve met her, she’s been here a couple times. Anyway, one day I was over helping out with her sister’s baby, and she had this paper that she was carrying around, a letter. She’dtake it out and read it and look terrified every time she did. So I asked to see it. See, she used to have this really beautiful ring that she always wore, I think it was pretty valuable. And that was what was in the letter. Since I’d heard people talking about those letters, I told her to hand it over.”
“That sounds…” Vivian trailed off, frowning. “Where do you live, Ellie?”
