“Fact of the matter is, you’ve been so scattered lately, it didn’t occur to me till I hung up what you’ve really been up to.”
Ellis’s explanation shriveled in his throat. He swallowed it down. “Sir?”
“I assume you’ve been snooping around the Millstones, hunting down a lead. I can see why you’d be quiet about it, given their ties to Giovanni Trevino. But with everything I hear…just be careful, Mr. Reed.”
Right then, a known press agent caught the attention of Mr. Walker, who invited him over for a new discussion.
Ellis’s thoughts were whirling, but he couldn’t show it. He simply stepped out of the way while trying to decipher the warning. The name Trevino was a shadow on the outer edge of his mind. Dark and familiar, no specifics.
As he turned around, he spied Dutch arriving. The guy was hitting the coffee station even before his desk, signaling a rough night of sleep. Ellis met him there.
“Dutch, got a question.”
“Uh-huh.” Dutch was sniffing the pot to determine the freshness of the brew.
“Giovanni Trevino. That name mean anything to you?”
“Sure…right…” Dutch was still distracted, now pouring a cupful. Ellis waited for him to finish. It was important to be clear.
“What’ve you heard?”
“Rum-running, I think. Owns a few supper clubs, gambling halls… Some say he’s tied to the Black Hand.”
The shadow suddenly took shape. “Are we talking about Max Trevino?”
“Max. Yeah. Same guy.”
Ellis didn’t know a whole lot about the man, outside of him belonging to the Mafia. But he definitely knew about the Black Hand, a group known for extortion of small businesses throughout New York. The members were Italian. Unforgiving. Brutal.
“Why do you ask?”
Against a sudden weight of dread, Ellis forced a shrug. “Just curious.”
• • •
The Tuesday traffic was cooperating. Ellis’s first good omen of the day.
Of course, if he were smart, he’d turn his car around, let all this Millstone business go. But he couldn’t. In light of the Mob links, his concerns over the kids had doubled. Even Alfred’s trip to Chicago, a hub for organized crime, gained new context.
Time to return to the source—not Alfred, but Ruby. It was still early enough to catch her morning recess, if he hurried.
He was crossing into Jersey when he sensed a car following behind. A black Packard. It trailed his every turn, like a tin can strung to the bumper, all the way to Hoboken. Across from the school, Ellis pulled over and the Packard rolled right past.
A relief, if not for the driver. His pockmarked cheeks, common scars from smallpox, distinguished a man like him in a crowd. Ellis had seen him before, but where?
Then again, after Mr. Walker’s heeding, maybe paranoia was kicking in.
There was no time to sort it out. The kids were already on the playground, squealing and flailing under the spring sun.
Ellis climbed out of his car. Just as he’d hoped, Ruby was lingering alone by the apple tree. The matronly teacher was again focused on her more active charges. Still being cautious, Ellis started in Ruby’s direction.
With a few yards to go, he caught her gaze. Apprehension flitted across her face, but she put a finger to her lips. She waved him to the back side of the tree, where he squatted to her level, obscured from the teacher’s view.
“I’m not supposed to talk to you no more,” Ruby said in an urgent hush. “I kept hoping you’d come back, though. There’s things I gotta tell ya.”
“About Calvin?” It was Ellis’s first thought.
She crinkled her chin, confused, and shook her head. But the intensity that returned to her eyes suggested a scenario just as troubling.
“Honey, are you doing all right?”
Her silence held long enough to provide an answer, and he regretted not asking the question last time, right from the top.
“If I can, Ruby, I absolutely want to help you too.”
The corners of her lips rose a little, and Ellis realized it might be less from his offer than his use of her name. Ruby, not Victoria.
“Then I need a favor,” she whispered. “I gotta get a message to my mama, ’cause I’ve given it heaps of thought. See, Claire—that’s our housekeeper—she’s teaching me to sew. She’s gonna show me how to knit and crochet too. And I already learned about doing laundry and fryin’ up food. So, Mama needs to know I’m ready to earn my keep. That way, it won’t cost her nothin’ to have me, and