The Venetian and the Rum Runner - L.A. Witt Page 0,152

She cried out in pain and surprise as she went down. Danny had his gun out, but the two of them were brawling now, fists flying, and he couldn’t take a shot without hitting her.

Abruptly, Salvatore freed himself and kicked Gladys in the chest, sending her back against the wall, and then he was on his feet and running. Danny briefly considered following him, but there was no telling what he’d be running into if he did. If he fired at Salvatore’s back, he could hit someone in the street.

Instead, he turned to Gladys. “Are you all right?”

Wig askew, she sagged against the wall, breathing hard as blood dripped from her nose and the corner of her mouth. One strap of her dress had slipped down over her shoulder, which was badly scraped. She’d taken off her gloves before coming out here, and as she reached up to remove her wig, the distinctive scar on the back of her hand caught the light. When she let her head fall back against the wall, Danny’s heart jumped.

In a matter of seconds, she’d transformed back into not just James, but the James who sometimes shook them both awake in the dead of night. Ringed with kohl, his haunted eyes were distant the way they often were after a nightmare.

Danny crossed the narrow alley and sat beside James. He pulled him close, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

James pushed out a ragged breath as he relaxed against him, but then he drew back enough to look at him. Voice unsteady, he said, “What about you? Are you all right?”

Danny nodded. “I am. You?”

Still dazed, James nodded too. His eyes lost focus again, and his hand still shook as he wiped blood from his lip. Inspecting the red smear on his fingers, he said, “Won’t be fit to do my job for a while.”

Danny didn’t know which job he meant. Likely both. “Stay with me, then. I can tell Father O’Reilly you’ve had to leave town. An emergency. Someone… I don’t know, but we’ll work it out. Or tell him you were robbed.”

James exhaled. Any other night, Danny would’ve expected him to push back and refuse to lie, but not now. Maybe he was too shaken to think. Maybe he was too scared to tell the other priest the truth about where he was tonight. About who he was tonight and so many other nights when he wasn’t in the rectory.

Looking around, Danny added, “Let’s get you inside, at least. Don’t need anyone stumbling across either of us in this state.”

James didn’t argue, and he let Danny help him to his feet.

Peeking in through the back door, Danny made sure the coast was clear—Daisy’s was nearly empty now—then guided James into the dressing room where he became Gladys early in an evening and James at the end of a night. He pushed a chair up against the door to be sure no one came in, then helped James to the chair in front of the mirror.

James looked down at the wig he’d been wearing, and he sighed. “I suppose I won’t be parading around as Gladys Rose any time soon.”

Danny winced. “I’m sorry.” Sometimes he thought stepping into Gladys Rose’s shoes was one of the few things keeping James sane, and now those shoes weren’t safe for him. All because of a gangster Danny had brought right to the club’s door.

And how had Salvatore even found him? Danny’s skin crawled. He must’ve followed him here tonight, and he must’ve been lying in wait. Maybe he’d heard Danny tell Gladys he’d wait for him in the alley like he often did. Or maybe he’d worked it out when Danny didn’t come out the front. Maybe there’d been others waiting for him out front in case he did go out that way. Shuddering, Danny rubbed his eyes.

“Are you sure you’re all right?” James asked.

Danny looked up. James was watching him in the mirror in between dabbing at a scrape on his rouged cheek. With a sigh, Danny nodded. “I am. I just… I didn’t mean for you to get hurt. Or to cost you Gladys.”

James shook his head and continued dabbing at the wound. “Maybe I won’t be Gladys anymore.” He managed a wry, if tired grin. “But there were other ladies before her. There will be others after.”

With a soft smile, Danny relaxed a little. James had seemed at his happiest and most relaxed when he slipped into Gladys’s clothes,