Once beside them, he pulled her close again while tapping Lane on the shoulder. “He’s here. At the bar.”
Betty’s head snapped up. “Who’s here?”
Henry had no choice but to answer. “Elkin.”
She didn’t move her head, but her eyes shot to the bar. “The short one with glasses?”
Henry’s spine stiffened. “Is he looking this way?”
“No, I just see the side of his face,” she said. “Is he looking for Lane?”
“No. He’s peddling Minnesota Thirteen from the stolen shipment.”
“How do you know that?”
“Because it fits everything I’ve been piecing together,” he said. “I just need the proof.”
The music ended and he released her waist as she let her arms fall away from his shoulders. Before he realized what was happening, she shot around him. He reached to grab her arm, but missed, and then spun around to follow her.
Lane grabbed his arm. “Elkin doesn’t know you’re alive, and from what you’ve told me, it needs to stay that way.”
Betty was already on the other side of the dance floor, approaching the bar.
Lane pulled on his arm. “Turn around. I’ll keep an eye on her.”
Henry’s jaw was clamped so tight, his back teeth stung.
“He can’t do anything to her here,” Lane said. “And, if we are right, and he knows who she is, he’s going to try to draw me into it. It’s exactly what we want.”
No, it wasn’t what Henry wanted. He didn’t want her involved at all.
“Come on,” Lane said. “We need to step off the dance floor. If she’s anything like her sister, she’ll get the information out of Elkin faster than anyone else, including an undercover FBI agent.”
Henry turned around so his back was to the bar, and stepped off the floor beside Lane and Patsy.
“She’ll get the information,” Patsy said. “Betty knows more about Minnesota Thirteen than most of the men in this room. She’d researched every kind of alcohol at the joints when we started sneaking out, and set down rules as to what we could and couldn’t drink.”
“She did?” Lane asked.
Henry knew the answer. She’d given him a copy of the list.
“Yes. One of us going blind was a sure way to get caught,” Patsy answered. “Minnesota Thirteen was the only hard alcohol Betty deemed safe, but none of us liked the taste of whiskey. We didn’t like the taste of beer, either, so all we ever drank were fruit drinks or an occasional glass of wine or champagne.” She shrugged. “Most of the speakeasies we visited didn’t serve wine or champagne.”
“No, they don’t,” Jane said as she stepped up beside him. “What’s Betty doing talking to the guy wearing a pair of cheaters?”
“That’s Elkin,” Patsy said. “Betty’s going to see if he’s selling stolen whiskey.”
Henry looked at Lane, who grimaced and shrugged, and then settled his gaze on the bar again. This had not been a good idea and he hadn’t imagined he’d agreed with it.
“Ducky,” Jane said.
Henry didn’t comment. For someone who’d never had siblings, he had to admit that he found the way these three girls had stuck together, in everything, pretty amazing.
“I was just telling Henry about how Betty researched all sorts of alcohol when we started sneaking out,” Patsy said. “How she knows all about it.”
“She did,” Jane said. “And she researched all the joints we could go to, and the ones we couldn’t. If they had extra rooms, for—” She cleared her throat. “You know, we weren’t allowed to set foot in them. Or any that had recently been raided, because if they’d been raided, that means they are run by the mob,” Jane continued. “Those are the only ones that get busted, and that’s because there are other things going on at those joints than just people having a good time.”
Henry had known all that from Betty, but he was more impressed by how she’d laid down the law to her sisters. In his opinion, Jane and Patsy could be a handful, and Betty must have had her work cut out keeping them in line anywhere they went. “What’s happening?” he asked Lane. “What’s she doing?”
“Talking,” Lane replied. “Elkin is answering, whatever she’s asking. He’s nodding and smiling.”
Henry twisted slightly, just enough to get a quick glimpse of Betty, and Elkin. They were indeed talking. Smiling.
Jane stepped closer and plopped a hand on his shoulder. “I’ll stand right here, so it looks like the four of us are sharing chin music.” Tilting her head, she asked, “You can see beneath the rim of my hat, can’t you?”
“Yes,” he answered. He appreciated her insight. She’d positioned herself just right, so he could see Betty, but to anyone looking their way, it would look like he was whispering to Jane.
“So, what are they doing?” Jane asked.
“Still talking,” he, Lane, and Patsy answered at the same time.
“Well, ducky. I’m the odd man out,” Jane said. “Keep telling me what’s happening.”
“He’s writing something down,” Patsy whispered. “Now he gave it to Betty.”
Elkin had given her a slip of paper, and Henry’s hand balled into a fist as he watched Elkin touch her wrist. She didn’t pull her hand away, nor did the way she smiled up at him waver.
“What’s happening now?” Jane asked.
“They are still talking,” Patsy answered.
Henry’s last nerve was about to snap when Elkin released her wrist. Betty then stepped around him, to his side, so if he did look this way, she blocked his view, and then walked beside him, toward the door. The other man followed. Henry’s entire body was tight with tension. He was fully prepared to clear the entire dance floor while crossing the room if she stepped out the door with Elkin.
She didn’t, but remained standing there, beside the door, with one hand discreetly held up at her side.
“She’s telling us to stay put until the coast is clear,” Patsy said.
Henry bit his lip to keep from saying he’d figured that out. Her sisters were trying to be helpful. Not trying. They had
