Lauri Robinson - The Bootlegger's Daughter

Upon arriving at the cabin, Ty shifted his tray to one hand and opened the door. Her overly sensitive nose caught the scent of vomit immediately and it turned her insides green.

“Norma Rose, you won’t want to come in here,” Gloria said, appearing in the open doorway. “She’s highly sensitive to some things,” the woman told Ty.

Norma Rose threatened herself with severe repercussions if a single part of her body reacted to the stench now threatening to overcome her.

“She insisted on carrying a tray,” Ty said.

“Well, you should have stopped her,” her father said, stepping around Gloria. “Take that tray inside, Ty, and Gloria, you take this one,” he added, lifting the tray from Norma Rose’s hand. “I’ll be there in a minute.”

The other two entered the cabin, and shut the door behind them. It didn’t help much—the stench had already settled in Norma Rose’s nostrils. Her father led her to the edge of the grass, where Ty’s Model T with New York license plates sat next to Dave’s Chevrolet. Ty’s truck certainly didn’t match his expensive outfit. Further proof he wasn’t who he said he was.

“Have you come up with any suspects yet?” her father asked.

Holding a finger against the bottom of her nose, breathing in air that hinted of ink, she withheld her anger and her suspicions and asked, “Suspects for what?”

“Poisoning Dave.” Her father shook his head, but replaced the grimace on his face with a slight grin. “Wood alcohol. Gloria says it wasn’t too bad. That being so allergic may have saved his life. He might not even lose his sight.”

“Lose his sight?” A wave of sorrow washed away some of Norma Rose’s animosity. “Oh, goodness. But Dave doesn’t drink,” she ventured, searching for understanding.

“They slipped it in one of those milk shakes he loves so much.”

“At a drugstore?”

He nodded. “Suspect so.”

Understanding bobbed to the surface of her cloudy mind. “That’s where he met Ty—Mr. Bradshaw.”

“That was at noon. Gloria said it had to have been later than that.”

“We don’t know it was noon for sure,” she argued.

“I do,” he said sternly. “Dave rode to town with Ace Walker. I talked to Ace last night—he said he and Dave met up again around six and drove over to St. Paul to Charlie’s store. I talked to Charlie, too. He said he personally made Dave a milk shake before Dave went into the back room to meet with a prospect.” Her father’s frown increased. “What did you do to your hands?”

There was nothing she could do to stop the heat that rushed to her cheeks. “An ink pen broke,” she answered, wringing her hands together. “Who was the prospect?”

“I don’t know. Charlie doesn’t, either, nor Ace. Whoever it was, he was just a front man.”

“What does Dave say?”

Her father glanced over his shoulder. “It may be a while before he can talk. Gloria had to put a tube into his stomach to flush it all out.”

Norma Rose flinched. She honestly hadn’t thought Dave was that ill last night, and regret that she’d been so callous at the police station made her stomach flip. “Goodness” was all she could say.

“Rosie, I normally don’t involve you in this side of the business, but in this instance, I need your help.”

It had been a long time since she had seen this kind of worry on her father’s face. Although that concerned her, it didn’t affect her answer. There wasn’t anything she wouldn’t do for him and the resort. “Of course,” she said. “What do you need me to do?”

“You can start by going through the guest lists for the parties for the next two weekends,” he said. “I have a gut feeling one of them has something to do with this. So does Ty.”

Unable to control the flare of anger that erupted inside her, Norma Rose huffed out a breath. Her father cast an uncompromising look her way and she kept her opinion to herself. She didn’t give a hoot what Ty thought. “I’ll start going through the list immediately and let you know what I find.”

“Not me—Ty. He’ll fill me in.”

She had to comment on how that grated her nerves. “I don’t believe we should be involving someone else in this. Especially a stranger.”

Not one to have his decisions questioned, Roger’s lips tightened. “Do you think I’d have him here if I didn’t trust him?”

Norma Rose squared her shoulders, prepared to explain that before last night none of them had known Ty existed, but she didn’t get a chance to open her mouth.

“I spent half the night checking out his background. I can tell you what time that young man was born and what he’s done every moment of every day since.”

Still not impressed, Norma Rose stood by her guns. “He’s not a lawyer.”

“I never said he was.”

“ He did,” she snapped. “He showed up at the police station like he’d—”

“And that’s exactly what we’re going to let others believe,” her father said, interrupting her. “That he’s one of our lawyers.”

“Why?”

“Don’t question me on this, Rosie, just do as I tell you. That’s all the information you need to know.” He hooked his thumbs on the straps of his suspenders and stretched, as he always did to signal the conversation at hand was over. Over in his eyes anyway.

To Norma Rose, the conversation was far from over. Though her father liked to believe she didn’t know about all of the businesses he was involved in, she did, and she was also smart enough to understand that now wasn’t the time to admit that, or to insist he tell her more. “Your breakfast is getting cold,” she said. “I’ll go through the list and let Mr. Bradshaw know if I discover anything.”

Her father shook his head slowly, as if disappointed. “Ty will go through the list with you, and you, young lady, will be nice to him. I don’t want anyone getting suspicious. I want them to think we’ve known Ty for years.”

She pinched her lips together to keep from asking why. It had been years since her father had reprimanded her, but now it left her seeing red. It hurt, too, although she wouldn’t admit that, not even to herself.

“And Rosie,” her father said, already making his way toward Dave’s cabin, “put on a pair of gloves. Your hands look terrible.”

Fuming, Norma Rose marched back to the resort’s main building, where she ventured upstairs to her room to retrieve a new pair of gloves, all the while trying not to become overwhelmed by the emotions bubbling inside her. The resort consumed her life, it had for years, and right now she was questioning why. If a stranger could magically appear and her father instantly let him in, pushing her and all her hard work aside, why did she let it?

Because it was her life.

With renewed determination burning, she pulled open a dresser drawer. Her dress was black with white sequins, so she chose black gloves this time and changed her white shoes to black ones.

That all completed, she headed back downstairs toward her office, still madder than she remembered being for some time. She’d go through the lists as requested, but not with Ty Bradshaw hanging over her shoulder. Many of the partygoers for Palooka George’s bash had already made reservations, and she personally had set up the accommodations. Names were ticking through her head and not one raised a red flag.

Concentrating hard, she barely noticed her surroundings until she arrived at her office door, which was open. The sight inside made her nostrils flare.

Ty Bradshaw stood in front of her desk, next to the window that overlooked the parking lot, where she often watched the coming and going of guests. He turned around as she entered.

“I had Moe make us breakfast, as well,” he said, gesturing toward the table under the window. “He assured me you haven’t eaten yet, either.”