Read Online Girl Waits with Gun by Amy Stewart - Free Book Online Page A

alarmed, and finally, with one last push from the motor car, it collapsed on its side, its wheels spinning.
    Cheers erupted from the crowd. Fleurette was jumping up and down and clapping madly. Policemen, firemen, and a doctor with his medical bag all ran to the trolley, but the conductor emerged, victorious, shaking his fists in the air. All around me, people were congratulating one another as if they’d had some role in the outcome.
    I turned to look for Fleurette, but at that moment I felt a hand on my sleeve. It was the red-haired girl from the factory.
    â€œYou don’t remember me,” she shouted, straining to be heard over the crowd. She was younger than I’d first realized—not much older than Fleurette—and would have been pretty if she hadn’t spent her life in a dye shop. Her hair was thin and dull, her mouth pinched, and there was a burn mark on her neck and another one like it on the back of her hand, both of them quite brown, suggesting an accident that occurred years ago. Her fingers bore the gray stains that accumulated from the dye.
    â€œI do,” I said. “I made you spill all that dye. I’m sorry.” I stepped back and took my arm away from her. There was nothing on the library’s pedestal but a lamppost. Fleurette had left her spot.
    â€œIt’s nothing to be sorry for,” she said. “We can’t help but spill dye. Every day my apron’s a different color.”
    The people in the crowd were pushing past me like a school of fish.
    â€œPlease excuse me,” I said. “I’m looking for my sister.”
    I broke away from the crowd and backed into the street so I could get a better look at the library steps. It was nothing but a sea of hats, and all of a sudden I couldn’t remember which hat Fleurette had worn. Now I was thinking about Henry Kaufman, too, and watching the side streets to make sure I didn’t see a black motor car roll away with a young girl in the passenger’s seat.
    By the time I saw Fleurette, she was almost upon me, still smiling, still glowing, still bouncing on her toes. I grabbed her and pulled her roughly to me, looking over the top of her head as I did. She tried to push away from me but I wouldn’t let her.
    A voice behind me whispered, “Is she the one?”
    I spun around but kept one arm wrapped around Fleurette’s neck. It was the girl from the factory again.
    â€œIs this her?” she asked. “I knew it couldn’t have been you.”
    Fleurette wriggled away from me to get a better look at her. “Who are you?”
    She took a deep breath and settled her shoulders. “I’m Lucy Blake. I work in Henry Kaufman’s factory. Is there another child? You can tell me.”
    â€œAnother child?” Fleurette screwed up her face and looked back and forth between the two of us. The girl’s meaning was starting to dawn on me.
    â€œI had a boy,” Lucy said. “Bobby. But he’s gone.”
    â€œI beg your pardon, Miss Blake,” I said, pulling Fleurette away from her. “There’s been a misunderstanding. I went to see Mr. Kaufman about the payment of an invoice.”
    Lucy gave Fleurette another quick glance. “Do you mean that she isn’t—”
    I shook my head, horrified by the idea of Fleurette having anyone’s child, much less Henry Kaufman’s.
    â€œWhat boy?” Fleurette asked breathlessly. “Where has he gone?”
    Lucy looked at Fleurette with teary eyes. The story tumbled out before I could think to stop it. “I don’t know,” she said, her voice wavering. “I never asked Henry for anything until we went out on strike. I just wanted enough money to feed Bobby. Nothing for me! I only needed milk and bread. But Henry was furious. He thought I was trying to trick him into giving me a share of the family business.”
    â€œThat sounds like him,” I said in spite of myself. I