“That’s it, then,” Corinne said.
For a while no one moved. No one spoke. Corinne didn’t open her eyes. Finally people started to trickle toward the door. They were members of Johnny’s crew, his inner circle. Some had known him for years, some only for months.
“Wait, stop,” Ada said, jarring Corinne as she jumped to her feet.
The group looked at her.
“It’s not safe out there,” Ada said. “First the docks and now Johnny—we don’t know who’s gunning for us.”
A couple of people shook their heads and left. The others looked uncertain, shuffling their feet.
“What else can we do?” someone asked.
“Stay,” Ada said. “We’re better off together.”
“Johnny’s gone,” someone else said. “The Cast Iron isn’t safe anymore either.”
“We can make it safe,” Ada said.
“You’re just kids.”
“Johnny trusted us well enough,” Corinne snapped, standing up beside Ada.
But they were already leaving. Danny lingered by the door for a long time, clutching his hat. “I’m sorry,” he said at last. “I’ve got to get back to my family.”
When the hinges creaked with his departure, Corinne sank back into her chair.
She was surprised to find that James and Madeline were still there, sitting at the next table over. They had come with Saint when she’d phoned at midnight. Madeline was sitting very straight, her lips pursed, staring into the middle distance. James was leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, eyes following Saint as he paced behind Corinne and Ada. Corinne knew that Gabriel was behind her too, against the bar, outside the circle.
It had been the six of them since midnight. Mostly they had sat in silence in the common room downstairs, trying to grapple with the idea of Johnny being gone, trying to explain it away.
“It’s some kind of trick,” Corinne had insisted. “It was a thespian Gordon saw.”
“Thespians can’t stay in character if they’re dead,” James said.
“Then Gordon was mistaken.”
“He’s known Johnny for years,” Ada told her. Her voice was calmer than Corinne’s, but the restraint cost her. She had to use the back of the couch for support.
“I’m going to the morgue,” Corinne said.
“Brilliant idea,” Madeline said. “And what exactly do you think is going to happen when the daughter of Perry and Constance Wells shows up at the morgue at one in the morning and demands to see the body of a dead gangster?”
“What do you suggest, Maddy?” Corinne had cried. “Why are you even here? You and James have been hiding away in the Mythic for years. You aren’t one of us, not really.”
The look that crossed Madeline’s face promised a nasty retort, but she stopped herself. “I’m just trying to help” was all she said, dropping her eyes.
“Johnny’s not—”
“Cor,” Ada said, her voice cutting through Corinne’s fury instantly. “Cor, sit down. He’s gone.”
The rest of the hours before dawn dragged on. There were drinks and speculations and plans made just to be discarded a few minutes later. No one mentioned sleep. Around six they had started making phone calls. Even though she was exhausted, Corinne had preferred the movement to sitting still. As long as she was busy, she wasn’t thinking about Johnny on a slab with four bullet holes in his chest.
Now that it was just the six of them again, Corinne had run out of tasks. She sat with her head in her hands, thinking about Johnny behind his desk, smiling at her latest idea for a con. Or Johnny at his regular table in the club, raising his glass to the stage. Or Johnny at Billings Academy when she was twelve years old, offering her the chance of a lifetime.
When her mind strayed again to the morgue and four bullet holes, she stood up. “We’re going to the Red Cat tonight,” she announced.
Everyone roused slowly from their own thoughts.
“The Red Cat?” Gabriel echoed. “Why?”
“Carson knows something about this,” Corinne said. “And if he doesn’t, then we’ll go to the Witcher brothers at Down Street. We’ll tear Boston apart if we have to. Someone’s going to pay.”
“We can’t just walk into the Red Cat and accuse Luke Carson of murder,” Ada said. Her voice was so soft that Corinne could barely hear her.
“I just have to talk to him,” Corinne insisted. “If he’s behind it, I’ll know.”
“I’m sure you will,” Gabriel said, “because he’ll probably try to kill you too.”
“This is a terrible idea,” Saint said, halting his pacing.
“I’ve had worse,” Corinne said. “There’s a show tonight at the Red Cat. Carson won’t try anything while his club is full of guests.”
“So he’ll drag you outside before he shoots you,” Gabriel said. “Saint’s right. It’s a terrible idea.”