about them, about what could happen to them if you got into this kind of trouble. My employer is a hard man.â His eyes flicked over her fadingfacial bruises. âYou know about hard men, donât you?â
Defensively, she lifted a hand to her cheek. âIâI fell down.â
âSure you did. Tripped on somebodyâs fist, right?â When she didnât answer he continued to press, lightly now. âIf my boss doesnât get back what belongs to him, heâs not just going to take it out on me. Heâll work his way through Premium until he gets down to you.â
Theyâd find out, she thought, panicking. They always found out. âI didnât take his stuff, I didnât. I justââ
âJust what?â DiCarlo leaped on the word and had to force himself not to wrap a hand around her throat and squeeze out the rest.
âI got three years in with Premium.â Sniffing, she dug in her bag for a Kleenex. âI could make floor supervisor in another year.â
DiCarlo bit back a stream of abuse and forced himself to stay cool. âListen, I know what itâs like to climb up that ladder. You help me out here, and Iâll do the same for you. I donât see any reason that what you tell me has to go beyond you and me. Thatâs why I didnât do this in Tarkingtonâs office.â
Opal fumbled for a cigarette. Automatically, DiCarlo let the windows down a crack. âYou wonât go back to Mr. Tarkington?â
âNot if you play straight with me. Otherwise . . .â To add impact, he slid his fingers under her chin, pinching as he turned her face to his.
âIâm sorry. Iâm really sorry it happened. I thought I got it right afterward, but I wasnât sure. And I was afraid. I had to miss a couple of days last month âcause my youngest was sick, and last week I was late one day when I fell and . . . and I was so rushed I mixed up the invoices.â She turned away, braced for a blow. âI dropped them. I was dizzy and I dropped them. I thought I had everything put back right, but I wasnât real sure. But I checked on a bunch of deliveriesyesterday, and they were okay. So I thought I was clear, and nobodyâd have to know.â
âYou mixed up the invoices,â he repeated. âSome idiot clerk gets a dizzy spell and screws up the paperwork and puts my butt in a sling.â
âIâm sorry.â She sobbed. Maybe he wasnât going to beat her, but he was going to make her pay. Opal knew someone always made her pay. âIâm really sorry.â
âYouâre going to be a lot sorrier if you donât find out where the shipment went.â
âI went through all the paperwork yesterday. There was only one other oversized crate that came through that lot in the morning.â Still weeping, she reached in her bag again. âI wrote down the address, Mr. DiCarlo.â She fished it from her purse and he snatched it.
âSherman Porter, Front Royal, Virginia.â
âPlease, Mr. DiCarlo, I got kids.â She wiped at her eyes. âI know I made a mistake, but Iâve done real good work at Premium. I canât afford to get fired.â
He slipped the paper into his pocket. âIâll check this out, then weâll see.â
Her jaw dropped with the weight of hope. âThen you wonât tell Mr. Tarkington?â
âI said weâll see.â DiCarlo started the engine as he plotted out his next steps. If things didnât go his way, heâd come back for Opal and it wouldnât just be her face that heâd leave black and blue.
Â
At the main counter in her shop, Dora put the finishing touch of a big red bow on a gift-wrapped purchase. âSheâs going to love them, Mr. OâMalley.â Pleased with the transaction, Dora patted the brightly wrapped box containing the cobalt saltcellars. âAnd
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