Part 14 (2/2)

Jerome stepped forward. aItas true. I shot and killed one of his men.a Lorraine stared at Jerome. Here was a man who was willing to go to jail for a crime he didnat commit, just to protect a woman. He really did love Gloriaa”more than Lorraine had thought a man could ever love a woman. The way Lorraine herself wanted to be loved.

And she had betrayed them both.

CLARA.

Claraas jaw dropped at Jeromeas lie.

aItas true. I shot and killed one of his men.a She already knew how much Gloria loved Jeromea”her cousin had given up a life of chandeliers and champagne for him. Gloria had suffered the scandal of a white girl falling for a black boy. Shead even killed for him.

It seemed Jerome loved Gloria every bit as much in return.

aIam impressed,a Parker whispered in Claraas ear, startling her. aI never expected youad have a story like this up your sleeve.a Parker didnat look the least bit concerned about the doomed lovers onstage. Instead, he was a hungry wolf, thrilled by the hunt. The man really didnat have any morals. All he saw were stories. And Clara was turning out to be just like him.

She was still working out how to respond when she heard Gloria clearing her throat. aJerome didnat kill anyone. Heas lying, to save me.a Gloria took a deep breath and stood up a little straighter. aI was the one who shot Carlitoas man.a The crowd buzzed: aThese singers all work with the Mob, darlinga”you canat expect them to be the least bit respectable.a aHas she killed anyone else?a aDoes she have a gun on her now?a as.e.xy, talented, and she can shoot a pistola”boys, I think Iam in love.a But most of the audience, like Clara, just stared at the stage in stunned silence.

aIt was in self-defense. He was going to kill both me and Jerome,a Gloria continued. aBut that doesnat change what happened. The gun belonged to my fianc, Sebastian Grey. I have it right here.a She reached under her dress and withdrew a silver pistol from her garter.

There were more gasps, a few screams, and Spark yelled out, aSheas got a gun!a Someone touched Claraas shoulder. She turned and saw Lorraine and a wan-looking blond girl in a dark-blue dress.

aRelax, itas just me,a Lorraine whispered. aSo skittisha”youad think our best friend was confessing to a murder or something.a aMaude Cortineau,a Clara said, recognizing Carlitoas moll.

aYou didnat even tell me you were in the Manhattanite!a Maude said. aI love that magazine!a aYou should meet my date,a Clara said. aHeas the magazineas editor, Parker Richards.a She looked around but didnat see Parker, only more and more FBI agents flooding the club and shouting out that no one was to move. aLorraine, was this your plan to help Gloria?a Lorraine made a more-or-less motion with her hand. aSort of.a She pointed at the good-looking bartender-turned-FBI-agent. aSee, thatas Hank. We were dating untila”a There was the deafening sound of a gunshot.

Half the women in the club screamed. It took Clara a second to realize shead been one of them.

aDrop your weapon!a the man whom Lorraine had called Hank shouted. The room grew silent.

A series of clicking noises filled the air as all the agents unholstered their guns, pointed them at Gloria, and c.o.c.ked the hammers.

aDrop your weapon!a Hank repeated.

Gloria laid the gun at her feet and raised her hands. aIt wasnat me!a On the left side of the stage, Carlito Macharelli coughed. He coughed again and fell to his knees, his mouth open. Head been holding his right hand over his chest. When he moved it and looked down, a red stain blossomed on his white lapel. Carlito stared at the growing stain, confused.

aCarlito!a someone yelled. A short, fat man rushed forward, his cartoonish features contorted not so much in concern as in fear.

aThat would be Puccini,a Lorraine whispered to Clara. aHeas the owner.a Carlito watched as Puccini lumbered up the steps to the stage. aI a,a Carlito said. aYou aa His eyes rolled back and he slumped to the ground.

aOh my G.o.d, oh my G.o.d,a Lorraine muttered over and over till Clara was ready to slap her.

Gloria and Jerome had moved to a corner of the stage with the musicians, as far from Carlitoas body as they could get. Gloriaas face was pressed into Jeromeas chest and his arms were around her back.

Puccini knelt down beside Carlito. The chubby gangster looked terrified. aSpark!a he yelled.

There was a commotion at the stairs, where the gangly would-be manager Clara had met was arguing with an FBI agent. aYou really think Iam gonna let you out?a the agent asked Spark. aNo one here is moving a muscle, especially not you.a aWho fired his weapon?a Hank shouted.

No one said anything.

aIn that case,a Hank said, ano one leaves this h.e.l.lhole until weave searched it top to bottom.a He waved his gun hand. aEverybody take a seat on the floor.a Parker suddenly appeared and grabbed Claraas hand. His face was pale and damp. He wasnat the slick journalist anymorea”he was afraid for his life.

Just like everyone else. No one in the crowd was wasting time with gossipy whispers anymore. Everyone was looking left and right, to the mahogany bar, to the booths, and back to the stage, searching for the source of the gunshot. For the gun that could go off again any second.

Someone cried out, aLet me go!a and there was a rustling from the wings. A moment later, two burly FBI agents led a woman onto the stage.

What Clara saw surprised her: The woman was a stunner, an older beauty with flawless skin and a glossy platinum-blond bob. Her sleeveless red dress was a little on the long side, but it was sheer in more places than it wasnat. This was Carlito Macharellias killer?

Doubtful.

But as the woman squirmed, Clara caught sight of an empty leather holster strapped to her thigh. Maybe there was more to this sheba than met the eye.

The agent on the womanas right held a black gun out of reacha”it was bigger and bulkier than Gloriaas little pistol. The kind of gun a person needed know-how to use.

Hank climbed up onstage and looked down at the glamorous blonde. aRuth Coughlin. What brings you to New York?a The woman spat in his face. aI ainat telling a bull like you a d.a.m.n thing.a Hank calmly took out a handkerchief and wiped his cheek. Then he handcuffed her.

Ruth showed off teeth that were just as gorgeous as the rest of her. aJust take me to the station already. You can play all the games you want with my lawyer.a So this was the woman whoad murdered Bastian, whoad followed Gloria, whoad been out to kill Jerome, and who had killed Carlito. But why?

The two agents led the woman through the crowd and up the stairs, and Hank supervised as agents handcuffed Puccini and Spark, who cried fat, blubbery tears into his ugly bow tie.

The cops didnat handcuff Jeromea”instead, they put the cuffs on Gloria. Then they led her out of the club, Jerome following close behind.

aGloria,a Clara called out as she pa.s.sed.

Gloria looked back for a second and somehow managed to smile. aClara! What are youa”a aThis ainat a social hour,a the agent said, forcing Gloria to keep walking.

aCome see me, okay?a she called over her shoulder. aAnd bring me a shawl? I hear the slammeras pretty cold.a There was a moment, just as Gloria reached the top of the stairs, when she locked eyes with a handsome older man in a brown suit. There was something oddly similar about their features, which made sense: The man was Claraas uncle. Gloriaas father.

Wasnat he going to do something? Say something? His daughter was in handcuffs, for goodnessa sake! She had just admitted to killing a man!

But Lowell Carmody just averted his eyes and walked away.

And then Gloria was out of sight.

Maude placed a hand on Claraas shoulder. Oh G.o.da”shead want to talk about the Manhattanite.

But instead Maude grinned and clapped. aIam free!a she squealed like a little girl.

Clara, Lorraine, and Parker all gave each other confused looks. What?

Maude giggled again. aItas terrible about Carlito dying and all that, but Iave been trying to figure out how to get away from him for ages. Now I donat have to worry about him tryina to kill me!a aOh a,a Lorraine said. aWell, good, then a I guess.a Maude sighed. aEveryone I date ends up dead, you know? I was gonna leave Carlito for Bastian Grey. Say what you want about him, but he was a cla.s.sy guy. And single! But then he got killed.a Maudeas voice broke. aSo I had to come here with Carlito.a She smiled again. aBut I guess it all worked out in the end, huh?a aMaude Cortineau?a a manas voice said. It was Hank. He was even better-looking up close, with his messy almostblack hair, smooth tanned skin, and light brown eyes. aWead like you to come with us to the station. We want to ask you a few questions about Carlito.a Hank gave Lorraine a curt nod as he led Maude away. aGood work, Raine.a He paused. aHave fun at Barnard next year.a Clara turned to Lorraine. Lorraine was watching Hank climb the stairs with a familiar expression on her face: It was the wistful way shead always looked at Marcus. aSo, you and Hank a?a Clara asked.

Lorraine let out a bitter laugh. aOh, you know me. I never seem to get it right when it comes to men.a aDid you know this was going to happen?a Parker interjected.

Clara wanted to pretend that she had. That she had some sort of in with the FBI and had stores of knowledge about the Mob. But it was time to be more honest in her work and in her life. aI only knew a little.a aWell, whatever you knew, good work. How do you know the singer?a aSheas my cousin.a aYour cousin? Thatas greata”we can work the personal angle. Now we head over to the police station and try to get some of these agents to talk to us.a He looked around. aThink thereas a telephone around here? Maybe I could get our photographer to meet us there. That FBI agent Hank and the singer would look great on our splash page.a Clara hesitated. Didnat Parker have any compa.s.sion for Gloria after what had just happened?

She stepped away. aYou want to tag along to the police station?a she asked Lorraine. aI could use a friendly face.a aNo thanks. I need to get far away from the Opera House and everything that goes with it.a Lorraine tugged nervously on her earrings. aCould you tell Gloria I say hi, though? And that Iam sorry? And that she was amazing tonight? Did I mention that Iam sorra”a Clara patted Lorraineas arm. aI will. And, Lorraine a good job tonight. Iam actually kind of impressed.a Lorraineas eyes softened. aThank you, Clara. It was nice meeting you, Parker.a Lorraine turned and walked away.

aClara?a a voice asked as she and Parker were about to leave.

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