Vixen (43 page)

“I don’t want your booze, Mr. Grey,” she said, staying close to the door. “You know why I’m here.”

“Be so kind as to enlighten me.”

“One of Carlito’s men is dead. I don’t think he was showing up at my brother’s to wish him a good trip to New York.”

“I already know,” Bastian said, taking a sip of his drink. “News travels fast when your brother murders the pal of one of the most powerful gangsters in the city of Chicago.”

“Jerome killed this guy?” Vera bit her tongue. So Carlito was blaming Jerome. Probably because no one would bat an eyelash if he killed a black man in vengeance. But a rich white society girl?

She had a hunch Bastian didn’t know it was his own
gun that had killed Carlito’s man. “I can’t believe I ever trusted you.”

Bastian laughed scornfully. “Is that so?”

He strolled across the room and stared down at her. He didn’t hide his contempt. “Let’s be honest with ourselves, Vera. Was I the one who investigated the new singer at the Green Mill? Was I the one who ratted out my brother about his planning to run away with her to New York? Was I the one who gave me his address to make certain that the two lovebirds split up for good?”

He gulped down the dregs of his drink. “Shall I continue?”

“No one was supposed to die.” Vera felt her insides wither. Bastian was right: She had only herself to blame. She’d been convinced Gloria was going to ruin her brother’s life.

She’d been wrong.

Jerome had almost lost his life because of what she’d told Bastian. And now her brother and Gloria were on the lam, and a man was dead, and it was all because of Vera.

She had to fix this.

“
You
sent Carlito to kill Jerome tonight, didn’t you? You didn’t care who got hurt. You just wanted to punish Gloria.”

“Of course.” Bastian tilted his head. “Silly, stupid Vera. It’s a little too late for remorse, sweetheart.”

“Don’t you dare call me sweetheart!”

“What would you rather I call you? Judas? A traitor to your own flesh and blood?”

“That’s enough!” Vera wanted to strike him, to tear into
him with every ounce of strength she had in her body. “I was trying to
save
my brother—”

“Then you should have known better than to involve me.”

“Gloria could have been killed,” Vera said, backing toward the door.

“I don’t give a damn about Gloria,” Bastian said. “It’s her money I want to marry.”

Vera couldn’t stay in this apartment for another second, for fear of doing something she might regret. “You won’t get her
or
her money. I’ll make sure of it.”

Bastian smiled wickedly. “And how are you going to do that?”

Vera opened the door, looked back at Bastian, and smiled, because she knew what he did not: that she had his smoking gun tucked away in her purse, linking him to the murder outside her brother’s apartment.

“Just you wait and see,” Vera said.

And then she firmly closed the door on him.

Find out what happens next when

INGENUE

goes on sale in 2011!

For the latest Flappers news, visit
theflappersbooks.com
.

Jillian Larkin’s fascination with flappers and the 1920s began during her childhood, which included frequent home screenings of the classic Julie Andrews/Carol Channing film
Thoroughly Modern Millie
. She lives in New York.