Ghostsnaps (Knead to Know Book 4) by Schulte Liz

Author:Schulte, Liz [Schulte, Liz]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2016-05-16T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter 10

We stood outside my bakery, only it wasn’t a bakery. It was a Barbershop—and currently closed. Jeanette had watched us leave the house with a cool, thoughtful expression, refusing to come with us, though Josephine invited her.

“This way,” Josephine said, looking right then left down the empty street before slipping into the alley. She knocked on the bright green door.

It cracked open.

“One-eyed moose,” she said.

The door pushed opened and it was hard not to break into a grin. It was just so cool. I was visiting a genuine 1920s speakeasy!

Inside the entrance, a long narrow hallway, lined with well-stocked shelves, took us toward the front of the building. It looked nothing like my bakery. The bouncer eyed us, but a moment later, a wall swung open and we went through. Two more armed men in suits were in the next room. The hatch in the floor was open, and I followed Josephine down the stairs.

Butterflies danced in my stomach as the sound of laughter and music lifted up from the cellar. “This is fantastic,” I said.

Josephine smiled, already swaying to the music. “I adore dancing.”

The packed room was low ceilinged and smelled like a musty basement mixed with liquor and sweat, but no one seemed to care. Small tables were buzzing with laughter and conversation, and alcohol was flowing. Almost immediately, Josephine was pulled onto the floor by someone she hopefully knew well.

I pushed through the crowd toward the makeshift bar. I had no idea what the drink was that the bartender handed me, but I took it. It was clear and smelled a little bit like gasoline. I took a small drink and it nearly boiled my throat on the way down. I blew out a breath, half expecting to see fire, but recovered quickly enough. When I was sure I wasn’t permanently damaged, I scanned the faces in the room, trying not to linger on anyone long enough for it to appear like an invitation. There was only one man I wanted to talk to tonight.

The longer I went without finding Baker, the antsier I was to leave, but Josephine was still on the dance floor, having the time of her life. And that’s exactly what she should be doing with only a month to live if we couldn’t save her. I resigned myself to having to find Baker another night. I finished my drink with a grimace. Alcohol had certainly improved.

“Hey, doll, looks like you need to wet your whistle.” A man put his arm over my shoulders. “The name’s Alfred.”

I fought the urge to glare at him, while I mentally translated what he said.

“That would be great,” I shouted over the music, giving him a faint smile. He was short (about the same height as me) with round red cheeks and yellowish eyes. Out of habit, I turned with him toward the bar to make sure he didn’t drop anything in my drink. He didn’t look like much, but people kept greeting him as they went by.

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