The Unknown Beloved(104)

She would be going to the morgue alone again today. Michael was holed up somewhere with Eliot Ness doing who knew what. He’d only been home once in three days to bathe and have dinner with her and the aunts, but he’d kissed her the moment they were alone. She didn’t even have to ask. He’d simply gathered her up and kissed her until she was climbing him the way Charlie climbed the curtains.

When she left the shop at noon, hoping the workload at the morgue would be light and she wouldn’t have to leave her aunts minding the shop for too long, Darby was standing at the curb. He acted as if he were waiting for the streetcar to pass before crossing, but she knew he was waiting for her. She kept walking, pulling her wagon, and waited for him to follow. Follow he did.

“Did you think I wouldn’t remember you, Uncle Darby?” she called when they’d moved beyond view of the house and she’d turned the corner on Mead.

“I hoped you would.” His voice made her breath catch and her eyes instantly tear. He sounded just like her dad. Or maybe . . . he sounded like Darby, and she just couldn’t separate the two.

She stopped walking and turned toward him, still clinging to the handle of her wagon. Everything about him was faded. Eyes, hair, skin, clothes. He was in his midfifties, she guessed, but he looked older. He wore a suit that didn’t fit and a pair of shoes that were laced so tight, she suspected they didn’t fit either. He was still tall, though she had grown since she’d peered up at him last, so even his size felt diminished. He stopped walking too, allowing the wagon to remain between them.

“I’ve missed you,” she said.

His chin wobbled and he ducked his head. “I’ve missed you too, Dani.”

“This isn’t the best place to talk,” she said. “And I have work that can’t wait.”

“Yeah. I know. I’ve been keeping an eye on you, wanting to say hello since I got into town. But I didn’t know how. I didn’t want to scare you . . . or that man you’ve taken up with.”

“How long have you been in town?”

He scratched at his face like he wasn’t entirely sure.

“Awhile I guess. I have a little place down in the Run. It’s not much. But it’s mine. George and I used to come to Cleveland all the time, back in the day. That was before he met Aneta. George was always good at rustling up the work. Meeting people. Making a go of it. He had big plans.”

“Yes. He did.”

“He got all the talent in the family. The looks too.” He smiled, revealing that his teeth had not fared much better than he had. “But he took care of me. And I tried to take care of him.” His face cracked. “I didn’t do a very good job. I’m always too late. But I woulda taken care of you, if they’da let me.”

“I know, Darby.”

“You look like her, Dani. So much . . . I almost thought you were her when I saw you again.”

“And when was that, Darby?”

He smiled at her again, almost sadly, like he knew she had to be cautious around him and hated that it was so.

“You were shoveling snow. Out front. With the fella. I was freezing my arse off. But there you were, looking like your mother the day George and I walked into that shop. And it made me warm.”

“Do you need some money, Darby? Or some clothes?”

“No. No.” He seemed appalled that she would even ask. “That’s not why I’m here, Dani. That isn’t it at all.”

“I know. But if you do need something, you let me know. You don’t need to hide or creep around. Come into the shop. I’m all grown up now, and I don’t need permission to see you. You are my family.”

He seemed flabbergasted by that, and his lips trembled again. “That’s the kinda thing George woulda said. He was all the family I had. And I haven’t had anyone since.”

Dani swallowed back the lump in her throat. “I’m sorry, Darby.”

He nodded. “I’m sorry too. But . . . that fella . . . I’ve seen you with him a few times now. I don’t think he’d like me coming around.”

“You let me worry about that.”

He took off his cap like there was something he wanted to say. “He was a copper, wasn’t he? He looks familiar to me.”

Dani wasn’t sure how much to say or what Michael would want her to say. It was hardly a surprise that Darby would recognize him.

“A long time ago. Yes.”

“That’s good then. That’s good. He’ll keep you safe.”

“I need to go now, Darby.”

“Okay, Dani. I’ll be around,” he said, turning away. As he strode off, hands in his trousers, his tattered coattails flapping, she wanted to call him back. Darby wasn’t so different from the unclaimed dead she cared for. He was also the kind of man the Butcher preyed upon. Isn’t that what Malone had said? His victims are loners with no intact families. They’re nobodies. It takes days for people to realize they are missing if they realize it at all. And even then they don’t go to the police.

Should something happen to Darby, no one would know who he was.

“Darby. Wait,” she called. “Just wait for a minute, please. I have something for you.” She’d slipped on the St. Christopher medallion Darby had given her that morning. It’d been hanging over the corner of the photograph; she’d been afraid of losing it and rarely wore it. It’d been a whim, but now she wondered if she’d been expecting him with Malone gone so much.