“Has anyone told Carson that?” Corinne asked. “Because he seemed pretty chummy with them when he was taking their money.”
“You saw him take money from them?” Confusion and disbelief swirled in Charlie’s expression.
“Yes.”
“I have to go.” Charlie stood up and reached for his hat.
“You can’t go by yourself,” Ada said, standing with him. “Not if they’re just grabbing people off the street.”
Charlie was poised to argue, and Corinne was prepared to agree with him, because he certainly wasn’t going to camp out in the Cast Iron indefinitely. Gabriel interrupted from the stairs.
“I’ll go with you. It’s on my way home.” He looked at Corinne. “I’ll stop by Maury’s and be back in time for the dinner.”
Ada seemed satisfied, which Corinne thought was a little hypocritical.
“Wait a minute,” she said. “So Charlie isn’t allowed to go by himself, but it’s okay if Gabriel gets himself snatched?”
“I’m not a hemopath,” Gabriel said.
Before Corinne could formulate a reply, he and Charlie were already halfway up the stairs.
“He’ll be fine,” Ada said once the door had shut behind them.
Corinne wanted to reply that she didn’t care whether Gabriel Stone lived or died, but that seemed unfairly harsh. It was also patently untrue. “Boys can’t manage anything themselves,” she said. “Least of all staying alive.”
Ada’s expression twitched, but it passed so quickly that Corinne couldn’t tell if she was appreciative or unamused.
“Speaking of which,” Corinne went on. “Where the hell is Saint? Why does he think he can run all over Boston while there are killers and kidnappers and God knows what else on the loose?”
“I told you, he’s at the Mythic. He’s helping with the set.”
“That’s hardly a priority right now, is it?” Corinne flopped onto the sofa, stretching out her legs and resting her head on the arm. “Besides, we’re mad at James and Maddy.”
“Just because you’re mad at someone doesn’t mean the rest of the world is,” Ada said. She seemed to come to a decision and jumped to her feet. She disappeared into their room and reemerged seconds later with her coat and cloche.
“Where are you going?” Corinne asked, scrambling to her feet.
“I need to check on my mother. The HPA knows where she lives.”
“Yes, because they’re trying to catch you.” Corinne was already headed to their room to grab her coat. She knew she wasn’t going to dissuade Ada, and she couldn’t let her go alone.
“We’ll be careful,” Ada said, pulling her hat onto her head. “I just have to make sure she’s all right.”
“It’s too bad Gabriel isn’t here to tell us how reckless we are,” Corinne said. She slipped into her coat and was pleased to find some kid gloves in the pocket. “I might actually agree with him this time.”
At Corinne’s insistence, they took the long way to the apartment, staying off the more trafficked streets. Ada didn’t argue, but she thought the measure was unnecessary. All the white-slick roads were empty this morning. The snow was falling faster now, sticking to her eyelashes and blurring her vision.
Corinne was hugging herself and skipping to avoid the denser patches of snow. She had always been better suited for sunshine and springtime. Ada kept her hands buried in her pockets. Melting snow was thick on her wool coat; and despite her hat, she was beginning to feel the dampness on her scalp. An umbrella probably would have been a useful thing to bring along.
“I haven’t seen your mother in ages,” Corinne said. “You think there will be any of that bread waiting? I can’t ever remember what it’s called—pan?”
“P?o.” Ada hunched her shoulders, trying in vain to protect her neck from the chill. She had forgotten a scarf. “Cor, my mom’s pretty angry at me. She might be mad at you too—I don’t know.”
“Why?”
“We had another fight. About Johnny and the Cast Iron. About what we do for a living.”
Corinne’s lips were a grim line. Her hair was stringy with the melting snow, and thin rivulets ran down the contours of her face.
“We’re just doing the best we can,” Corinne said. “You’ve done all this for her.”
“That doesn’t make any of it right.” Ada’s voice was so soft that the fluttering snow drowned it out.
Shawmut Avenue emptied onto her mother’s street, and she could see the apartment building a block down on the right. Corinne started to cross the street, but an unfamiliar shape caught Ada’s eye and she grabbed her arm. The black, hulking car was parked across the road from the apartments. There was a man leaning against the driver’s side door, puffing on a cigarette. Ada didn’t see his face, but the hairs on her neck prickled. Corinne saw him too and cursed. She backed up and threw open the door of the nearest shop. Ada ducked in behind her.