Author & Master Storyteller

Chapter One

Chicago, 1927

“Cameron finished painting our rooms this morning—yours is a hotsy-totsy purple, and mine, a soft rose,” Katie O’Sullivan said. Her friend had just entered the kitchen through the back door and interrupted her read-through of the sheet music she would be expected to sing at the New Town Launderette speakeasy later tonight.

This morning’s radio weatherman had predicted a rainy Halloween, so all the big maple trees in Archie’s back yard would lose their lovely red leaves. The days would grow shorter and more solemn until the city was covered in snow—and not the pretty white stuff she had been accustomed to in Ohio. She wasn’t looking forward to the Farmers’ Almanac’s expectation of a bitter Chicago winter.

Though the temperature had been mild today, the chill and gloom of late afternoon followed Dulcie Nye in. She yanked off her knitted cloche hat. Her short, spiky platinum hair stood on end with electricity. Unwinding the colorful art deco scarf from around her neck, she hung both on the hook by the back door along with her woolen pea coat.

A woman of few words, Dulcie hid her past like a rabid squirrel hid nuts. She rarely talked about her former life across the pond, and the military-made, double-breasted wool coat was one of those secrets.

Katie shot her British friend a smile. “You know who I’m talking about, right? Tall. Dark. Handsome?” Cameron O’Neal had been the latest relative to show up on Archibald Lemon’s doorstep, and if she were correct, Dulcie and Cameron were attracted to each other, though neither would admit it if their life depended on it.

“Aye, the man is dishy, but he’s probably an Irish gypsy—all that thick black hair and blue eyes. It’s not fair to other blokes.” She opened Archie’s fancy new Frigidaire and pulled out a Yoo-Hoo.

Since Dulcie had wrinkled her nose at her tall-dark-and-handsome comment, Katie kept her opinion to herself. Eventually the duo would figure out sometimes opposites do attract.

She stood to stretch out the tension in her shoulders. The speakeasy would be packed on a Friday night, but she needed exposure if she were ever going to be able to support herself with her singing talent. Performing at an illegal blind pig behind a launderette wasn’t exactly Broadway, but if she played her cards right, the spotlight could lead to an audition for a part in a musical in one of Chicago’s theaters. In the meantime, she would waitress to make ends meet.

“We were jammers at the Mag today. I’m knackered.” Dulcie leaned her petite five-foot two frame against the kitchen counter and took a long pull of her chocolate drink. “When are Elise and Luca coming back? We’ll have us a good old chin wag, won’t we? Honeymoon in the Poconos, not a bad deal for the two lovebirds. Though…I don’t know much about marriage, or honeymoons, or the most brilliant American spot for a honeymoon.”

Katie rolled up the sheet music, slid it into a tube, and slipped a rubber band around it. “Archie said they were driving back tonight, but of course, they’ll go straight to Elise’s grandmother’s house.” In true form, Elise made sure Granny’s home had been remodeled and ready before she and her handsome detective married.

“Lucky duckies. Brilliant wedding present. Granny moves in with Ellie’s parents and gives her house to Luca and Elise. The place is big enough to accommodate Luca’s young son, sister, and mother with room to spare. And now Ellie has a place to start her new business.” Dulcie set her bottle on the kitchen table and opened the oven door. “Rhatz. No casserole? Is Maria on vacation in the Poconos, too?” she asked, criticizing Archie’s wonderful cook.

Katie just shrugged her shoulder. “I think we’ve been spoiled.” After Cameron moved in, there was one more mouth to feed. Maybe Archie’s cook had gotten tired of feeding all of them. Not that Cameron was a burden. He was Archie’s nephew, just like Elise had been his niece. Besides, the man did repairs and lawn work. He paid his rent on time, and he would probably shovel snow once winter arrived. Plus, he was pretty easy on the eyes. Not that she noticed, of course. Her new beau was the frog’s eyebrows in the looks department.

Until a few months ago, she and the girls had been living on the top floor reserved for women at May Busby’s boarding house. In a stroke of luck, Elise’s uncle Archie had offered all three of them lovely rooms in his large sprawling mansion. The difference in rent was so significant, Katie had been able to quit both of her part-time day jobs. She was no longer working at the Piggily Wiggly Grocery Store, or as a knocker-upper, where she knocked on men’s windows with a stick to force them to get up in time for work at the factory.

“I think Archie gave Maria a night off. She said something about a quinceañera for one of her cousin’s kids. She told me it’s like a coming out party for fifteen-year-old Mexican girls.” Katie put her elbows on the table and propped her cheek on her fist. “We could make peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.”

At the mention of food, Archie’s bloodhound stuck his giant head around the corner. Katie shook an index finger at the beast. He halted and gave her his best sad-dog-droopy-eyed expression, one she couldn’t resist. She gestured for him to approach for a quick belly rub. “I’m babysitting Watson so Archie can work on whatever he’s inventing in the basement. It has something to do with decontaminating solvents this time.”

Elise’s generous uncle not only took in the three of them, but he helped solve one of Luca’s cases—the murder of Elise’s boss. The couple had met over the dead body of wealthy entrepreneur, Reed Wellington. The detective had earned his gold shield for solving the high-profile homicide and was now in charge of the Criminal Investigative Division.

“No leftovers either?” Dulcie said after inspecting the refrigerator. She frowned, her brows almost meeting in the middle of her lovely, pixie-like face. “By the way, since Garrett said he would stay until closing to take you home from the speak tonight, do you mind if I stay put and tub it? I would need to take the El, and the temperature is supposed to dip later. We might even get a few flurries. Is this standard weather for this time of year?


”Unfortunately, not unusual, but don’t get your hopes up for a mild winter. Chicago has been called the Windy City since 1885.” She gave a show-stopping shudder before she stepped into the pantry for the bread part of her peanut butter and jelly.

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I’ve posted below the first scene in Chapter One especially for YOU!