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PART II
ELEVATOR TO THE GALLOWS

62

MARINA WAS SHAKING from fear. It wasn’t as dark as she’d imagined it would be. It was warmly lit, with smoke from cigarettes, cigars, and something she couldn’t identify thick as a heavy fog. It was much louder than she had imagined: the fast, loud jazz; the women screeching and laughing; men shouting in anger or humor or drunkenness; bottles and glasses clinking. The smell of … a whole lot of disgusting things kept her stomach roiling. The Albrights’ baby’s soiled diapers and spitup didn’t stink this much. Women were barely dressed and she’d seen one woman straddling a man who was digging in his trousers to take … that … out. There were bare-breasted girls dancing on a dais waving elaborate feathered fans and letting their betweens peek out now and again. The waitresses were clothed, at least, in tight black short shorts and crisp, skimpy black jackets that barely hid their breasts.

This was an awful, awful place.

Dot whimpered.

Marina might have been able to tolerate the iniquity if that was the only thing wrong here.

The iniquity and stench and clamor were merely nauseating.

The flat smiles, the dead eyes, the hollow laughter terrified her. Despair hung over the place as thick as the smoke. The light and happy music and laughter were fake, making up for things that had to be more awful than doing … that … with total strangers, in public, like it was normal.

The only people who seemed genuinely happy to be here were the musicians who weren’t paying any attention to anything but their music.

Trey’s after-work stench was a bare whiff of this, as was the scent of whisky or cigar smoke on his breath.

“I bet this is how hell smells,” Dot whispered. “Plus rotten eggs.”

“You don’t believe in hell.”

“I do now.”

Marina was about to drag Dot out, but she seemed to be frozen in place looking as horrified as Marina felt, when she finally caught sight of an attractively arranged bank of mirrors over the front door and windows. It reflected the mezzanine to her and the downstairs to everyone on the mezzanine. In the reflection, she could see Trey sitting alone at a tiny table against a thick table-high railing, a cigar clamped in his teeth, watching over everything.

That was all he was doing, watching like a hawk. He was relaxed, his pretty mouth hard, his handsome face cold and distant. He had a whisky glass in his big hand. A stunning woman, clad in a dress very much like the one Dot coveted, approached him, her hips swinging, one of those vacant smiles on her face Marina supposed was meant to be alluring.

Trey’s eyes swept her up and down, a slight curl to his lip. The woman bent and kissed him—or tried. He dodged her. Her mouth landed on his collar, leaving a mouth print. She lost her balance and fell across his lap, then Trey whacked her on the bottom and dumped her off onto the floor.

He stood and yanked her to her feet, not seeing another man charge across the floor, draw back his fist, and … land it on the woman’s jaw, sending her reeling back into the railing and almost tumbling over it before Trey caught her. Trey barely had time to duck the punch aimed at him, then slammed his fist in the man’s belly before catching his collar and dragging him out of sight.

When he returned, he went to the heap of sobbing woman on the floor, picked her up, and heaved her over his shoulder, her mouth at the level of his belly.

Marina’s jaw dropped.

By the time he got to the staircase with her, she was kicking and screaming. He was back at his spot in no time. He straightened out his shirt and suit, looked down and scratched at the lipstick on his shirt before giving up and plopping himself in his chair as if nothing happened.

“Maybe you really don’t have to worry about him catting around on you,” Dot whispered, her voice trembling.

“I told you,” Marina muttered resentfully, now angry with herself that she hadn’t ignored Dot as Trey had asked her to.

“I’m sorry!” Dot hissed.

“Say the words, Dot.”

“You were right,” Dot said immediately.

Marina’s resentment moved over to make room for satisfaction. “Let’s go.”

“Right behind ya, sis.”

“Howdy, girls.”

Marina and Dot were so startled they both banged their chins on the woodwork turning around. They slammed themselves up against the wall, their palms to it, and gaped at the nearly naked woman in front of them. She raked them with a gaze that was half amused, half disgusted. “Out a little late for schoolgirls, ain’tcha?” she drawled, then took a puff off her cigarette. “Daddy know where you are?”

“Um … ” Dot began, but Marina kicked her. She shut her mouth.

The woman’s lip curled, but she was still half amused. “I should prolly take you to the boss. See if he wants to put you to work.”

Dot squeaked. Marina shook her head frantically.

“What are you, fifteen?”

“Sixteen,” Marina whispered.

“Old enough to make a few bucks. Some men like schoolgirls. Some like pregnant ones.”

Marina and Dot whimpered. “I’m married,” Marina croaked.

“I don’t see what that’s got to do with the price o’ tea in China.” The woman leaned around the corner and yelled upward, “Trey!”

“No,” Marina pled. “Please, no. Please don’t.”

She gave Marina an amused sidelong glance. “Come into the dog pound, honey, you gonna get bit. Got you a live one! Or two.”

Marina and Dot tried to dash around her, out the way they sneaked in, but the woman caught them both with ease, one hand around each upper arm hard enough to leave bruises, and dragged them out to the main floor in spite of the fact that they were struggling—

“Marina!”

Marina grimaced and turned to look up at her husband, still sitting at his table, whose face was no longer flat, cold, or hard. Just flabbergasted.

“Dot!” he barked.

“You know these little janes?” the woman demanded incredulously.

That was when his expression darkened. He pointed to Marina. “That one’s my wife.”

The woman gasped.

“And that one’s her partner in crime. What is wrong with you two?” He waved to the woman to bring them to him. She dragged them up a wide, finely carpeted but dimly lit staircase, across the mezzanine floor, and deposited both girls on either side of him. To Marina’s shock, Trey slung his arm over her shoulder, pulled her into his body, and kissed her full on the mouth. She squeaked and tried to close her mouth, but— “Open up, Marina,” he whispered and now his eyes were twinkling. “Kiss me like you know what you’re doing.”

She really didn’t have a choice. She opened her mouth when he did and closed her eyes and let him in. He did taste of whisky but her senses were already so overwhelmed, and she was so acutely aware of everyone around them, she barely noticed.

He pulled away from her with a wry smile. “Seen enough?” She nodded slightly, cringing away from him a little. His smile faded. “I’m a lotta bad things, Marina,” he said softly. “I’m mostly bad and this is my world.”

“It’s so unhappy here,” she whispered. “Everyone here is sad and pretending. And it’s so noisy. It’s awful. How do you stand it?”

He studied her for a moment. “Well, Sugar, it’s all I know, really. That’s why I want to come home to you because maybe you’re not happy yet, but you’re quiet and content. You make me look forward to coming home where I can be quiet and content too, making a home like the one I’ve wanted since my mama died.”

“But … that. The indecent thing … You think being indecent with me would bring this filth into our house? Our bedroom would be no better than … here?”

He pursed his lips and considered. “I could allow as how I might be feeling it that way.”

“Oh.”

“But when I get out of this, I’ll forget about how unhappy this place is and maybe make home happier. What got your draws in a twist so much you broke my rule?”

“The lipstick on your collar and shirt,” she blurted.

He snorted. “I told you I was no stranger to holding up a puking woman’s hair. Also not a stranger to catching a drunk one when she keels over or dragging her out by her collar when she’s making trouble. They fight me, they get lipstick on me. It’s a dirty job, but somebody’s gotta do it.”

“I saw.”

“Mmm hm. Why didn’t you just ask me?”

“Because you’re a liar and a thief.”

He heaved a sigh. “All right. You have a point there. All I can say is, I don’t and I won’t. The cats who come here think with their dick and I don’t, never did, never will. You don’t have to trust me for me to know I’m holding up my end of the bargain.”

Marina’s head tilted a little, her insides sort of shedding her fear. He didn’t care if she believed him, just so he knew he was faithful. Of course he could be lying about that too—

“Back off,” he snarled, startling Marina. Trey was pointing a gun at a man who had his hand out, frozen in place by Trey’s threat. It was only then she noticed Dot was clinging to Trey, cringing away from the man’s hand and whimpering. “You touch her, you die.”

The man’s mouth was slack, staring at the gun in Trey’s hand.

“Scram.” He looked at Dot after the man had fled. “I thought you was packin’,” he said testily.

“Um,” she squeaked, still cringing. “I forgot.”

“Why the fuck you carryin’ it if you ain’t gonna use it?” he barked.

“Don’t swear at her, Trey,” Marina murmured.

“If that’s the worst thing that happens to her here, she’s lucky.” Over Dot’s head, he bellowed, “Gio!”

When Marina looked down to the main floor and saw the man who arose from the midst of a bunch of beautiful women, she stared in horror and whispered, “Oh, Lord.”

He was dressed in loose tan trousers and a rumpled, half-buttoned white Oxford. His suspenders flapped around his thighs. His hair was mussed and he had lipstick on the corner of his mouth, collar, and neck. To Marina’s eye, he looked like he’d just gotten out of bed.

He hadn’t seen Marina and Dot, as he was still busy trying to disentangle himself from all the women who wanted him to stay. He was laughing and looking slyly at one woman, then another, the way Trey looked at Marina when he wanted to be indecent. He chucked one under the chin and said something that made her laugh.

“Gene,” Dot croaked. Marina leaned to her left to see Dot’s expression of utter betrayal, her attention frozen on her former suitor.

“Did you have to get him?” Marina whispered.

“Everybody else I trust is busy,” Trey returned tightly. “You came here after I told you not to so don’t gripe when you don’t like what you see.”

Marina once again looked over the balcony just in time for Gene to look up. He stopped cold in the middle of the room, his expression flashing from annoyance to shock, then horror, then fear. After a hitch in his step and with the resigned sigh of a French noble bound for the gallows, he trudged toward the stairs and disappeared under their feet.

“Gene!” Dot wailed when he appeared at their table.

“Giovanni Lucarelli,” Trey corrected without an ounce of sympathy.

Gene—Giovanni—was watching Dot warily, then looked at Trey.

“They decided to see if I was cattin’ around on Marina,” he said sarcastically and slid a look at Marina, who blushed and looked away sheepishly, “and got in over their heads. Car’s out back?” Marina nodded. “Get ’em on their way home, will ya? Before some cat decides he likes his whores prim and proper and pregnant.”

Gene glared at Marina, but Trey snapped, “Get off her back. Dot’s been badmouthin’ me since we met, an’ I don’t like your woman poisonin’ my well. I’ll lay money this was her idea, an’ she nagged Marina into cookin’ up the plan ’cuz she’s too scaredy-cat to sneak out on her own account. Big talker and can’t back it up.”

With a snarl at Trey, Gene held his hand out for Dot as if they were all out on a picnic and he were being the perfect beau. Marina waited with bated breath to see if she’d take it.

And waited.

And waited.

“Dot!” Trey barked. “Get your ass off that chair and back to the car.”

Dot hopped to her feet and hugged the table to scoot past Gene as quickly and with as much space between them as she could.

Gene followed her down the stairs slowly, shaking his head in weary resignation.

Marina could barely speak, but she had to. “He’s one of the … um … man p-pr-pro … uh … ”

“Say the word, Marina.”

She gulped. “Prostitutes.”

“Yep.”

“So he … ”

“Came along to keep Dot off my back while I was trying to seduce you.”

“So he’s indecent with other women?” Marina squeaked, appalled, even though that was what prostitutes did.

“And men,” Trey answered matter-of-factly.

Marina gulped, feeling Dot’s heartbreak from here. More, really because Trey had explained in disgusting detail what men did together (and women too, for that fact), and Dot was still as innocent of that knowledge as Marina had been once. Shoot, she didn’t know what it meant that her dance partner didn’t like girls and Marina wasn’t going to be the one to tell her.

“Just so you know, and it’s up to you whether to tell Dot or not, but Gio doesn’t do that job anymore. He refused to, the day he met Dot.”

Marina blinked and pointed to the gaggle of women who seemed to not miss Gene at all.

“He’s fillin’ in for one of my waitresses who’s got the flu an’ I’m a bit uptight about people with the flu.”

She supposed he would be.

“Flirtin’s part of the waitstaff’s job, but that’s all they do. That’s all those folks want or expect, like Dot and her puppy dogs.”

“Oh.”

“Marina!” Gene yelled. She glanced at the bank of mirrors and saw him behind the bar with an angry expression.

“Bye, Trey,” Marina said softly, unable to meet his eyes.

But instead of berating her, he tucked a finger under her chin and raised her face to see his wry grin and amused eyes. “Guess you won’t do that again, will you?”

She shook her head, but couldn’t quite suppress the edges of her mouth trying to smile.

“Kiss me.”

She wouldn’t because she wasn’t that forward, but she let him kiss her again and this time she felt it in her between.

“Get a wiggle on now, Sugga. I promise I won’t tell Dot’s daddy.” She released a breath she didn’t know she was holding. “This time. Do it again and I’ll spank her ass for him and make you watch.”

Marina grimaced and he nodded. Yes, now she knew that wasn’t an idle threat. “Thank you, Trey.”

“Anything for you.”

“MARINA!”

Trey chuckled as she clambered out of the chair and rushed down the stairs and to the back door where Dot and Gene were waiting for her. Dot was staying as far away from Gene as the space let them, but that wasn’t much to speak of, and her head was down.

“Where are you parked?” he grumbled as he ushered them out.

“Down there a ways,” Marina murmured, pointing. “Gene—”

“Gio,” he snapped. “My name is Giovanni. Don’t ever call me Gene again, got it?”

Marina didn’t reply and Dot likely hadn’t spoken since she’d darted out of her chair.

They walked down the alley in silence. Marina climbed behind the wheel and started the car. When Dot didn’t immediately open the passenger door, Marina assumed Gio had gotten her to listen to him. After another little while, Marina twisted around impatiently to yell for her.

Then her jaw dropped.

Gio was kissing Dot … and she was kissing him back! Or at least, she hadn’t pushed him away and slapped him.

“Oh my good Lord,” Marina whispered, not knowing whether to interrupt them or let them go. “It’s not my business,” she chanted to herself. “It’s not my business. It’s an innocent little kiss—” She peeked in the rearview mirror to see the kiss getting deeper, then looked straight forward resolutely, wrapped her hands around the steering wheel, and waited. She would say nothing, do nothing, give no indication that she had seen Dot succumb because that was Dot’s first kiss.

It seemed to take forever for the door to open, Gio holding it open for Dot and handing her in.

“Bye, Dot,” he said low after he’d closed the door. He leaned down and almost poked his head in the car. “Drive safe,” he said to Marina so sternly she almost said Yes, sir.

Marina hit the gas and took off for home, saying nothing. Dot was sitting slumped in the seat looking out into the darkness. Her cheeks were wet. She had her arms crossed over her chest, but once Marina thought she saw Dot lift a finger and touch her lip. Then she swiped her face.

Once she’d pulled into her spot behind the house, Dot simply sat there gazing blankly out the window at the shed. Marina said only, “We’re home.”

Dot slowly gathered her skirt and handbag and got out of the car, waiting for Marina to unlock the back door.

“I made up the sofa already,” Marina said softly. “Unless you want to go home? You can say … ” She didn’t know what Dot could say that wasn’t suspicious because she’d kept Marina company through the night before.

“I stink,” she muttered, then took her overnight bag upstairs to wash and change. Marina would do her stinky laundry so her parents wouldn’t suspect where she’d been.

Marina sighed when, once she’d changed into her nightgown, she heard the sound of soft weeping coming from the bathroom. She slipped into bed hoping they’d both be asleep when Trey got home.

62

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