Her lips were so warm, so soft and sweet, he couldn’t get enough of them. The desires racing inside him coaxed him to use his tongue to part her lips and slip inside her mouth. His pulse pounded at the heat, the sweetness of her tongue dancing with his.
The kiss would have lasted a lot longer, he was sure of it, if a crash in the storage room hadn’t rattled the door. He pulled his mouth away from hers and instantly pressed her up against the tunnel wall.
A plethora of cursing filtered through the closed door, and several of his own silently crossed his mind as she pressed her face into his shirt. He kept his arms around her until the thuds and muttered cursing ended, and then took a step back.
“Are we going to be able to sneak back out that way?” she asked.
“Yes, the bartender must have been collecting more booze.” That was why he hadn’t seen her walk in the tavern earlier. He’d been watching from behind the curtain, because he’d already spied Lane. Upon seeing the bartender round the bar, he’d hurried into the room and then into the tunnel. When the coast had been clear for him to return to the curtain, she’d been sitting at the table.
Mirth shimmered in her eyes. “I think he broke a bottle or two.”
“Sounded like it,” he agreed.
She sighed, and then laid a hand on his chest, right over his heart. “You really won’t tell my father?”
Reality, of what he was doing and why, returned. “No, I’ll uphold my end of the bargain as long as you uphold yours.”
“I will.”
“No one else can know.”
“They won’t.” She let out a sigh. “What time do you think it is?”
He moved to the steps and picked up the flashlight.
As soon as the light hit his wrist, she gasped. “That can’t be right.”
He read the time. “Yes, it’s eleven fifty-five.”
“It can’t be. I was supposed to meet my sisters ten minutes ago.”
The urgency in her voice was as real. He grasped her arm. “Where?”
“Between two buildings up the street.” She rushed up the steps. “I have to go, Henry. Now.”
He stepped up beside her. “All right. Stay there, let me check.” He clicked off the flashlight and tucked it in his pocket before opening the door a crack and peeking through the bottle-lined shelf to make sure the storeroom was empty.
The area was free of anyone else, and he pulled the door all the way open and then pushed the shelf aside. “Come on. I’ll walk you to the alley.”
“No!” She slapped a hand over her mouth. “Sorry,” she whispered as she stepped into the room. “I have to go alone. They can’t know about you.”
“I won’t let them see me.” He pushed the shelf back in place and took her hand. “I’ll just make sure you meet up with them.”
“I’ll meet up with them just fine.”
Holding her hand, he walked to the door and opened it, peeked out. “What if they’ve already left?”
“They won’t leave without me.”
He stepped out the door and pulled it closed behind her. “I want to make sure.”
“There’s no need.” She flashed him a hint of a smile. “I’ll see you tomorrow night. Same time.”
He released her hand. “I’ll be here.”
She peeked around the edge of curtain, then shot out around it.
He waited a couple of seconds, and then walked out. No one was looking his way. They were all too busy dancing and drinking, smoking and laughing. He watched as Betty skirted around the floor and then scurried toward the door, her white boa flipping in her wake.
Slowly, to not draw any attention, he followed her. As he rounded the corner and pulled open the door, all he saw were the heels of her shoes as she ran up the steps and out the other door.
He took the steps two at a time and hurried out the two sets of doors and onto the street.
Once again, he barely got a glimpse of her running along the sidewalk before she shot into the space between two buildings.
Staying in the shadows, he walked to the spot where she’d slipped between the buildings and eased around the edge to peer into the narrow space. Three women were hurrying toward the alley on the other end.
He followed them along six city blocks, and then past two film studios before they entered the lawn of a house he knew well. The mob house where the tunnel ended.
Keeping well in the shadows, he watched as they continued walking.
They crossed the lawn near the far edge, where a row of trees marked the property line, then down through the ditch and up on the gravel road that led into Hollywoodland.
Here, like they had while walking along the buildings and the trees, they walked near the edge of the road, so they could slip into the ditch and the trees if a car came along.
They turned off the road after walking up the hill. He followed, staying in the trees, ducking around branches, and walking on the balls of his feet so he wouldn’t make a sound.
There had barely been a snap or click of heel from them, either. They were good at this. Used to it.
From the trees, he watched as they made their way across the backyard of a large brick home. He then held his breath at the sight that played out. One after the other, they shimmied up an ivy-covered trellis and into a window.
Betty was the last one up the trellis, and he waited, watching as lights turned on in three of the windows on the second floor. The last light had been in the room on the far right. That had to be her room.
He stood there for a long time, questioning all sorts of things. Besides her, he’d recognized one of the other women with
