Chapter 59

The fire bell rang at six Friday morning. Eli had trained himself to listen for it, even in his sleep, so he woke and hurried into the clothes he kept beside the bed every nightÑheavy duck trousers and shirt. His leather helmet, thick rubber boots and oilcloth coat would be waiting at the fire hall. The helmets were another innovation he’d introduced to the squad after his training in Chicago. Wearing headgear could protect a fireman’s life if a roof or ceiling caved in, so Eli had made sure there was one for every volunteer.
The fire proved to be a small one, a tipped over lantern in a barn. It could have been worse, but the farmhand who’d knocked it over had started putting the flames out, even as his coworker had raised the alarm. Other than a few timbers and part of this fall’s hay crop, there wasn’t much damaged. The chemical extinguisher pump on the new truck worked like a charm.
Eli got home with barely enough time to wash and change before dashing downstairs to his office for his first morning appointment. That meant he had to wait until lunch time to get his newspapers.
Needless to say, the morning seemed to drag on forever.
He whistled on his way to the shop, as usual. He couldn’t have said what it was about Nettie Price that made him smile, but every day she did. She wasn’t anything like the girlfriends he’d had, whether in college or since. He’d always been drawn to tall, elegant blondes, the more modern the better. Bobs, cigarette holders and rolled-down stockings were the norm in his circles. Nettie still wore her straight dark hair in a thick knot at the nape of her neckÑand the simple style suited her softly pretty features. No crimson lipstick or kohl eyeliner adorned her face, her skirts fell nearly to her ankles and she wore her fingernails short and clean. She should have been an unmemorable mouseÑif not for her quick smile and quicker mind.
At every other shop in town, the clerks looked at Eli as if he were nothing more than his wallet or his position on the city council, always trying to sell him something more, something he didn’t need, or hoping to influence his opinion on this or that. Nettie saw the man beneath, and spoke to him like a person, and damn if every book she suggested wasn’t a good one. Best of all, he’d watched her with other customers. She was thoughtful to everyone who entered the shop, rich or poor. She was even polite to the ones who spoke rudely about her drunken father.
It was on that thought that Eli entered the shop so he’d momentarily lost his cheerful mood. It disintegrated completely when he got a look at Nettie’s face. Her left cheek was a mass of bruising, the eye swollen nearly shut.
And still she smiled. ‘I wondered where you were today. I’ve saved you a Washington Post.' Her bright tone never wavered.
Eli lost all pretense of civility and stalked to the counter. ‘Your father?' He pitched his voice low, so it wouldn’t carry through the open door.
‘I tripped.' She winced as she tried to smile again. ‘Fell down a couple of stairs into a wall.' Her fingers clenched on the counter, wrinkling his copy of the local paper.
Not that he gave a damn about that. He laid his hand over his. ‘You’re not a very good liar, Miss Nettie. Why’d he hit you this time?'
She shrugged. ‘I forgot to pick up his medicine on my way home last night.'
‘Medicine, my Aunt Gertrude. You mean his booze.' Everyone knew Murphy the pharmacist sold bootleg liquor out of his shop, and gave a cut of the profit to Doc Rollins, the disreputable quack who prescribed it for a wide variety of ills.
Nettie pulled her hand away. ‘It doesn’t matter, Mr. Lawson. I won’t forget it again.'
‘Why do you stay with him? You’re of age. You have a good job here. There are several boarding houses in town that would be happy to have you, especially with a reference from the Websters.' Hell, he’d get her a letter of reference from the damned city council if it got her to leave her home.
‘I can’t do that, sir. My father needs me.' She moved to the cash register and rang in the price of the two papers. ‘But thank you for your concern.'
‘At least talk to someone.' He handed her a dollar bill and wished he could tell her to keep the change, but he knew her pride wouldn’t allow it. ‘Maybe one of the ministers could talk to himÉ'
‘Not necessary.' She counted out his change and slid it across the counter, avoiding contact with his hand. ‘It’s kind of you to worry, but it’s better to leave things alone. Have a nice afternoon, Mr. Lawson.' She didn’t even smile as she dismissed him.
Eli took the long way back to his office, circling the three-block radius that made up downtown Carstairs. Near the end of his walk, he stood on Shoreline Drive and stared out at Lake Michigan, the water calm and sparkling in the sun. He closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath. He loved his town when it was full of summer vacationers, but he loved it most on days like this, when he could stare out at the lake without seeing another living soul. After a few minutes, his fury had died down to embers, and he turned the corner onto Second Street, where his home and office stood, half a block past the shops of downtown.
‘Damn and blast it.' Just when he’d settled his temper, there stood Al Price, leaning against the wall of the drug store, taking a swig from a brown glass bottle, a couple of his cronies on either side of him. Eli told himself to look away and keep walking. Nettie was an adult, and there wasn’t anything the law could do since she willingly stayed at home and supported the man.
Unfortunately, Eli’s body had apparently stopped listening to his brain. He stalked up to Price and glared down at the older man. Both of the other bums scurried awayÑEli wasn’t a small man and he’d broken his nose twice. He knew he could be a scary-looking bastard, even in his Brooks Brothers suit. ‘Price, a word?'
‘What do you want, shyster?' Price took another swig. ‘All legal. Got a per-scription and everything.'
Eli almost stepped back at the foul stench of the other man’s breath. He crossed his arms over his chest and held his ground. ‘I don’t care if you pickle your liver, and I’m not a G-man. I just want to give you a friendly little warning.'
‘Oh yeah? Warning about what?'
‘You touch your daughter again, and I’ll find you. She gets a black eye, you get two. Hit her with a fist, I hit you with mine. Got it?' Eli leaned closer, letting all the fury he felt show in his face. ‘It’s over.'
Price laughed. ‘You’re sweet on my girl. Ain’t that something, Mr. High-and-Mighty city councilman? Well let me tell you something.' He poked Eli in the chest. ‘You better stick to sniffing around your own kind. I see you anywhere near my Nettie, you’ll be meeting the business end of my shotgun.'
‘I doubt you can see straight, let alone shoot straight.' What idiot had sold this man a shotgun? Or ammunition for that matter? He wasn’t right in the head enough to own a gun. But that was life in America. Only criminals could get liquor, but anybody could buy all the bullets they wanted. It took all Eli’s restraint to step back instead of landing a right hook on the man’s ugly face. ‘You remember that your daughter has friends in this town. More than you do. Keep your fists to yourself.'
He strode away, ignoring Price sputtering behind him.