Four top members of Bodine’s family, including Ray’s brother and uncle, were in Leavenworth Penitentiary right now, where they belonged, because of Ty and his due diligence, and Ray Bodine would soon be rotting right alongside them. Only a handful of people knew Ray hadn’t died in the shootout that had gutted his cartel. Ty was one of those people and so was his boss, who rarely left Washington, DC; the rest were Bodine’s family—his wife and kids.
They’d gone so far as to have a funeral, had paraded the coffin down the street and into the cemetery, as if that was solid proof of his death.
Ty had known it was fake, but couldn’t convince his boss until Bodine resurfaced. Not the man himself, but torpedoes and hit men who left Bodine’s footprints. They led to Chicago, and then to St. Paul, and Ty had followed.
Alone.
Other agents followed, too, but they were after the front men, drug dealers, rum runners, bootleggers and other two-bit players that Ty didn’t give the time of day to. His focus was the big man himself.
“Ty?”
He closed his eyes, trying to shut out everything about Norma Rose and her family. It didn’t work. Not only did she repeat his name, but she also stepped closer. To where he could feel her even though they weren’t touching.
“Go back to the resort, Norma Rose.”
“Are you all right?”
He moved forward, away from her, stepping onto the small porch framing the front door. “I’m fine.”
“Why don’t I believe you?”
“You’ll soon have guests arriving,” he told her.
“Yes, I will.”
She’d stepped onto the porch, and her closeness twisted things he’d yet to unravel tighter yet. He didn’t care about her, or her family. All he cared about was Bodine.
“Ty—”
“Tell them Ginger went to visit the college her friend will be attending,” he said, pulling the suggestion out of thin air since he hadn’t given it another thought.
“They won’t believe that,” she said. “Father—”
“They will if you’re convincing enough.” He turned to face her, but set his gaze over her left shoulder, not prepared to look her in the eye. Those magnificent eyes were too clear, too easy to read. He didn’t need any more of that. She’d already knocked a kink in his armor, one he had to repair. “You and Twyla have made up after years of bickering. Folks are going to find that hard to believe, too.”
“I wanted to explain that to you. We—”
“Don’t bother,” he snapped. “It’s none of my business.”
“What happened?” she asked. “Why are you—”
“Your sister has been found.” Not looking at her was growing impossible. Brushing past her, he stomped down the steps. “Now I have to focus on your uncle’s case, and I can’t do that with you following my every footstep.”
“Maybe I can help. Like you did with finding Ginger.”
Hearing the clip of her heels on the steps, he kept walking. “You have more than enough to do managing your family and the resort.”
“I can manage more—”
She was more persistent than a swarm of mosquitoes, and he spun around. Damn if a part of him didn’t want to grin at the way her lips snapped shut. “I don’t want your help, Norma Rose. Nor do I need it. Now run back to your resort and make your customers happy with your complimentary booze.”
Her eyes turned ice blue and her glare became as frosty as a December windshield. Her chin rose into that determined lift she’d carried into the police station last night. Without another word, she marched past him, like a soldier going to war. He knew the feeling, how her insides were a mixture of fear and hatred—emotions put there on purpose.
He watched her walk away, battling his own twisted emotions. It was just as well that she went back to hating him now. When he took down Bodine, her father’s operation would go down with it.
Ty flinched at the knot that coiled deep inside. She’d hate him like she’d never hated before. Like the way he hated Bodine. After all it was similar. The way he’d take away what she loved. Her resort. Her livelihood. Her family.
Chapter Ten
Over the years, Ty had seen everything from seedy whiskey joints that never washed their glasses to high-end car clubs where the men didn’t drive, but were driven to the club by chauffeurs and had women hanging on their necks with fingers laden with more jewels than the Queen of England had inherited over the centuries. Tonight, standing in the shadows of the old, big barn, he watched people enter the resort, and had to admit, from what he saw, that Nightingale’s was an elite club. More upscale than he’d surmised from his earlier observations.
There were no chauffeurs, but the men had on fine suits, and the women, well, he guessed he understood why Norma Rose wore gloves to breakfast. Even when she didn’t have blue hands.
In spite of all he’d hashed out in the last hour, he smiled. Yeah, she’d hate him when all this was over, but he’d never forget her. Years from now, after all the gangsters were behind bars and the cities had turned into peaceful havens, he’d still remember how that ink pen had snapped and how her startled look had brought about one of the first genuine smiles he’d experienced in years.
The smile on his face slipped, almost painfully. He knew the gangsters would never all be behind bars—others would just rise up in the holes left by those arrested. But, Norma Rose would hate him when this was all over, forever. He might hate himself, too.
Such was life. He’d long ago committed his existence to retribution, and had given up everything else to have it. Revenge, the longing that had burned inside him for years, didn’t leave room for anyone. Not family, not friends and most certainly not a woman. Those were vices he couldn’t afford. They not only tied a man down, they left a trail, and a man with a secret life couldn’t have that. People connected to him could get hurt, too. They were bound to, and Ty didn’t ever want to experience that kind of pain again.
Not feeling was a much better existence.
Accepting that resolution, Ty stepped out of the shadows and waited for a car—a big fancy one that had more lights on it than the string marquees on Broadway—to find a place to park before he maneuvered through the lot to his truck.
He backed out of the parking spot and slowly made his way to the tree-lined path that led to his cabin. There was a lot of work to do before Bodine showed up, and it included being inside the resort, even though he’d rather not be there.
Traveling light was the way of a federal agent. The suitcase under the seat of his truck held one additional suit, two shirts and a few sets of Munsingwear union suits and pairs of socks. He’d pull out a clean set—recently washed and dried in a hotel room—visit the bath house and then attend the party.
Dusk lasted for hours this far north in the summer, and as he parked his truck, the gray light was more than enough for him to notice the white paper cone rolling to a stop on the floor of the passenger seat.
Ty let it be.
* * *
“This is pretty. Where’d you get it?”
Norma Rose turned from her office window, where she’d watched Ty drive away. She should be wishing he’d gone in the opposite direction—and left the resort—but she couldn’t dredge that thought up. She was mad at him, and loathed the very thought of him, but even more so, she wanted to know what had filled his eyes with sorrow.
“From the amusement park,” she said, referring to the snow globe Twyla held. The bits of glitter were catching light as they swirled around the waterfall, sparkling like real snow.
“The strongman game?” Twyla asked, setting the globe on the desk. “No one ever wins one of these. The game’s rigged.”
Still dressed in the pink outfit, along with the borrowed white shoes, Twyla had a folded pink scarf around her head, leaving her red waves showing above the band that was tied fashionably below one ear. Her earlobes, which still had to be red and swollen, were covered, yet a pair of dangling earrings hung below the scarf.
Wanting to discuss anything expect Ty, the snow globe—which she moved closer to the center of her desk so it wouldn’t accidently get knocked off—or the amusement park, Norma Rose asked, “Why’d you pierce the second ear after the first one hurt so much?”
Twyla shrugged. “Well, I couldn’t walk around wearing just one earring, could I?” Without waiting for an answer, she continued, “It was one of those things in life that once you start, you have to finish it. Besides, it gave me a good excuse.”
“Excuse for what?”
“For not going to the amusement park,” Twyla answered, before hugging herself as she let loose an exaggerated shiver. “Have you ever worked a kissing booth?”
“Of course not.”
“Well, don’t.” Twyla laughed. “I will admit some of it was fun, and a few kisses were rather amazing, but for the most part, I’d rather vomit in my mouth than kiss some of those men again.”
Norma Rose stopped the direction her mind wanted to sail down. “Why’d you do it?”
“Do we really have to go down this street again?” Twyla asked, frowning. “I already told you why I did it and apologized.” Her eyes turned pleading, but her voice was serious. “Just give me a chance, Norma Rose, and I’ll prove to you how much help I can be around here.”