“I’d better go and freshen up,” Evie said, and kissed him again. It had been thrilling and maybe a little scary feeling his body between her thighs, his hardness pressed against her. She liked that she could do that to him just as much as she liked what he did to her, the way his kisses made her tremble.
“You look fresh enough to me. You couldn’t possibly get any fresher,” Jericho insisted.
“Sorry, pal. Bank’s closed.”
Evie pushed Jericho back. He groaned and flopped against the bank of floofy pillows.
Evie smoothed down her dress. She hoped she looked presentable. “See you at dinner.”
Jericho moved a pillow over his crotch. “Eventually,” he said, grinning.
Evie sneaked out, closing the door quietly behind her. When she turned around, she yelped in surprise. Sam was a few feet away, leaning against the wall, his arms folded across his chest.
“You startled me,” she said.
Sam wasn’t his usual good-time, smirking self. In fact, he looked as if someone had run over his dog. “What is it about that guy?”
“I don’t know what you mean,” Evie said, a flush working its way up her neck.
“Come on, Evie. Don’t con a con man.”
Evie was both embarrassed that he’d caught her and furious that he was judging her.
“What do you care? You’re out with a different chorus girl every night. The papers say so!”
“The papers say a lot of things. Is it because he’s a brooder, a real Heathcliff?”
“He isn’t a brooder. He’s just a very deep thinker. He’s… philosophical. Some girls happen to find that charming.”
“Yeah, real swoon-worthy. Frankly, I never understood why girls go for that. It’s like the fella’s announcing he’s a miserable time, but I swear, that’s like honey for some dames. Misery honey.”
Evie’s eyes flashed. “Maybe you’re the one who’s miserable. You’re certainly conceited.”
“At least I know how to make a girl laugh.”
“And pull her hair out.”
“You know, some girls like that hair-pulling,” Sam said.
He was being deliberately provocative. Evie got up in his face. “Then remind me to shave my head bald.”
“Wait! Just answer me this: Does he make you happy?”
“If you must know, he makes me feel like I’m the only girl in the room.”
“That’s not the same thing.”
Why was he doing this to her? “Are you one of those fellas who only likes a girl if another fella wants her? Maybe you should ask yourself that question. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to dress for dinner,” she said, moving past him.
Sam reached out and held her hand softly. “Evie…”
For just a minute, she was reminded of their fake romance. Except that the expression on his face seemed very real. Was it real? Was anything with Sam real? No. Sam-n-Evie, the romance, had had its chance. It hadn’t worked. This was just Sam being his usual pot-stirring self. And once he had a girl wrapped around his finger, he lost interest. She knew too well from experience.
She let go of his hand. “I don’t want to be late for dinner.”
Sam leaned his head back against the wall, thumping it gently. “Swell job, Lloyd. You schmuck.”
After a delicious private dinner that featured more silverware than anybody knew what to do with, they retired to the library, where they played cards and waited until they could steal into the room with the punch card reader. They listened to the hubbub of servants taking coats and men welcoming one another, of Marlowe ordering “our best port,” even though Sam had the idea that these were the very people who’d voted for Prohibition, then turned around and decided the rules didn’t apply to them. The men’s voices went fuzzy with distance as they retreated to another part of the house, and then it was silent. The grandfather clock in the foyer struck half past nine.
“Can we go now, Freddy?” Sam cajoled.
“Yes,” Jericho said, leaving his cards on the table. “And don’t call me Freddy.”
Jericho led his friends toward the former soldiers’ room. “Quickly,” he said, ushering them inside and shutting the door.
“Don’t see me,” Sam said, waving his hands over it. “That should keep anybody’s eyes from glancing this way for the next five minutes or so.”
Just above them, they could hear vague noises from Marlowe’s club meeting: The crack of a billiards game. Muffled laughter. Low talking. They were safe for now.
“So this is where my brother was before…” Evie said, giving the room a once-over. She longed to touch everything in the hope that some trace of James lingered here.
“It’s this way,” Jericho said gently, and led them toward the back. He opened the closet door. Sam whistled.
“So that’s it, huh?” he said, stroking a hand across the tabulating machine. “I’ll say this for Marlowe, this is a beauty. The one at Macy’s wasn’t like this. Say, Jericho, gimme a hand with this thing, will ya?”
Jericho dragged the machine from the closet as if it weighed no more than a sack of potatoes.
“I coulda done that,” Sam said.
Henry patted him sympathetically on the back. Ling shook her head.
Sam plugged in the machine. He pushed a button and it hummed to life.
“Here goes nothing,” he said, and fed the first card into the intake slot. A series of slim metal fingers bobbed up and down as they attempted to type out a report. The machine wheezed and shuddered.
“What’s wrong with it?” Henry asked. “It sounds like an angry cow.”
Smoke poured from the agitating card reader.
“No, no, no!” Sam tried to intervene and got a shock. He hissed and shook out his fingers.
“Stop it before it catches fire!”
Ling hooked her crutch around the cord and yanked it free from the outlet. With a last stuttering sigh, the machine spat out the severely mangled card and went dead.
Ling examined a few of the other cards. “Maybe they’re too old and dirty. Probably the machine is, too.”
“What do we do now?” Henry asked.
“Nothing, that’s what,” Sam said, sinking down onto one of the beds. “We can’t read these cards, we can’t find any other Diviners. We can’t know about ourselves and what they did to us. And I can’t use that information to find my mother.” Sam buried his head in his hands. “Could you… not look at me right now? Thanks.”
Evie had never seen Sam like this. He was usually the one finding a way forward. It was a little scary to see him at such a loss. She reached for the mangled card.
Sam glanced up. “What are you doing?”
“I’m going to try to read it,” Evie answered, sitting beside Sam on the bed.
“You already told us you can’t read it,” Ling said.
“I couldn’t before. I still might not be able to do it. But we might. We already know that together we can strengthen one another’s energy and skills. With all of us working together, I might be able to break through.”
“You’ll be sick,” Sam warned.
“So I’ll be sick,” Evie said.
“Are you sure, doll?” Sam asked.
“Just hand over those cards and gather ’round,” Evie said.
Henry, Ling, Sam, and Evie huddled together on the bed while Jericho stood nearby.
“I wish this didn’t involve so much touching,” Ling grumbled.