“You dare talk to me about respect after what your great-grandparents did in Sicily?”
The actress’s dark, soulful gaze settled on Marcie. “You forget my people have suffered injustice, too. And yet I still love Italia and will do my best for her. Can you not do the same?”
Luciana’s question was met with a taut silence.
Vi glanced from one to the other. “‘Porta respetta’ . . . what was the rest?”
The actress smiled a touch sadly. “It’s an old Sicilian proverb, ‘porta rispettu a lu locu unni stai’: show respect for the place you are in.” She glanced at Marcie. “Even if one isn’t sure it deserves it.”
“Well, you can keep your advice to yourself,” Marcie said, with a haughty lift of her chin. “I’m an American, through and through.”
“I understand mixed loyalties,” Luciana said, her gaze steady. “But the blood remembers even if we wish to forget. So be careful. The camorra have no love for Sicilians . . . Marcella Maggio.”
Vi groaned inwardly as all the color drained from Marcie’s face. This was not going to end well.
“I knew it! My papa sent you to spy on me, didn’t he?” Marcie’s voice shook.
Vi looked at the actress curiously. She had never considered that Papa Maggio might have more than one person watching over his little girl.
Luciana’s eyebrows rose. “Why would he? I have no ties to the Mafia. Those criminals give Italians a bad name.”
Marcie’s hands balled into fists. “My father is not a criminal!”
“Are you sure about that?”
Marcie growled and cocked her fist back.
Vi grabbed her travel buddy’s arm. “Whoa! Easy, cowboy.”
“She just insulted my papa!”
“She merely voiced an opinion shared by a lot of people,” Vi said, and then lowered her voice. “And you’ve got an audience. So shut it, unless you want to get sent home.”
“But—”
Wyatt popped his head through the door. “The luggage is here. Come on out and claim it before it gets stolen.”
Vi could’ve kissed the man for his impeccable timing. Luciana, after shooting Vi an apologetic look, hurried out of the room after him. Marcie sank onto the bunk and crossed her arms, still clearly steamed.
“He’s kidding, right?” Gertie asked from her bunk after Wyatt had disappeared. “No one would take our things, would they?”
Frances stretched and then headed for the door. “Better not wait around in case he wasn’t.”
Gertie hopped down. “You gals coming?”
“In a minute,” Vi said. The opening Luciana had created was too valuable to pass up.
After they were alone, Marcie snorted and then said softly, “I bet you anything Luciana—that buttana—was the snoop who got Janet canned.”
Vi suspected the cause was much closer to home—as in Papa Maggio had wanted a better travel partner for his progeny. Still, she didn’t want to discount Marcie’s instincts without giving them a proper hearing. Snoops, whether for the USO or anyone else, presented a very real threat to her, and ultimately her future. Yet Luciana seemed more the type to have secrets of her own. Secrets that might present a different kind of danger.
Perhaps it’s time I do a little snooping myself . . .
Feeling a bit like Pandora, she sat next to Marcie on the bunk and opened the proverbial box. “So what really happened to Janet?”
Chapter 13
“Nothing.” Marcie stood. “We’d better catch up with the others.”
“You said Luciana ratted her out, which means she must have had something to hide,” Vi said, refusing to move. “What was it?”
Marcie hesitated, her expression becoming troubled. “Does it matter? Janet was nice and a good dancer. She might have missed a few rehearsals, but not enough to fall behind. And she was so excited to be a part of the show. She couldn’t wait to get to meet other USO performers, like the Andrews Sisters or Bob Hope.”
“I wouldn’t mind that, either,” Vi said. “But if you think she was kicked out over missing rehearsals, wouldn’t that point to Sue or Mr. Stuart?”
“Well, yes, but . . .” Marcie glanced around nervously as if to check that they were alone. “Between you and me, I don’t think that was it. As I said, she was a good dancer. But she’d had an abortion not long before she tried out, and hadn’t told anyone. Well, she told me, but only because her cramps were so bad one day, I’d wanted to call a doctor.”
Vi’s heart sank even as it went out to Janet. Unwanted pregnancies weren’t always a sign of promiscuity—a girl could be in love and unlucky or could be the victim