Chasing Midnight

It was ridiculous. Allegra had been honest enough to warn him that the attraction he’d felt wasn’t real when he was too muddled to think for himself. She obviously had no more interest in him than she might have had in an African ape.

He should have been grateful. At the time, he’d thought she’d done him a favor. Allegra Chase was only a fantasy, and such visions eventually faded.

But this one hadn’t. If the attraction hadn’t been real, it surely would have died a quiet death by now.

Griffin scowled with self-disgust, nearly cracking the snifter in his hand. The only cure for these irrational thoughts and feelings would be time…time and the inevitable distance ensured by two very different lives.

Time and distance made no difference to Mal, he reflected. Once his friend had given his heart, nothing would shake him from his course. And that was why Mal deserved his happiness, he and the dreamers like him. No one—except for a few ambitious debutantes and their mothers—would notice or care if Griffin Durant cut himself off from the society that had kept him civilized.

Shaking off his grim mood, Griffin picked up the telephone receiver and gave the operator a number he hadn’t called in far too long.

“Kavanagh,” the man on the other end answered.

“Ross?”

“Griffin? Griffin Durant?”

“Hello, Ross. I know it’s been quite a while—”

“Hell, man. Far too long. How is life among the polo players and stuck-up debutantes of the North Shore?”

“The same as always. Nothing much changes here.”

“So I’ve heard. How is Gemma?”

“Her seventeenth birthday is just around the corner.”

“That old? You must be watching her like a hawk.”

“I do what I can.”

“And the pack? They aren’t giving you any more trouble?”

“No more than usual. I can handle them.”

Ross Kavanagh laughed, an edge to his voice. “Yeah. I’ll bet.”

“And you?”

“I’m dead to them. They leave me alone, and I don’t tell the other cops or my friends in the Prohibition Bureau about their little operation.”

“Good.” Griffin sat in the chair next to the telephone stand, forcing his muscles to relax. “Listen, Ross…I have a favor to ask.”

“What is it, brother?”

Succinctly Griffin recounted the situation with Margot De Luca. “Mal’s already been to see her father, and asked around every club he and Margot frequented, all with no success. If you could keep your ear to the ground, I’d appreciate it.”

“Sure. Mal’s a good kid.”

“Honest, honorable and the bravest man I’ve ever known.”

“That’s saying a lot, coming from you.” Griffin heard the sound of a pencil scratching on paper. “I’ll give you a call if I turn up anything.”

“Thanks, Ross.”

“Don’t be such a stranger, Grif.”

As he hung up and walked to the window, Griffin wondered if he would ever be anything but a stranger. He had chosen his course, and he had no one to blame but himself.

With a snap of his wrist, Griffin closed the drapes and let the darkness enfold him.

Chapter Three

LULU’S WAS JUMPING tonight, and the hottest table in the joint belonged to Allie Chase.

She relaxed in her chair, an unlit cigarette dangling from her lips, and watched Pepper Adair dance the Charleston on the tabletop, red hair bouncing to the jazz band’s hectic rhythm. Bruce and Nathan were clapping in time, shouting encouragement as the tempo increased, while Nikolai stared into his drink with a feigned air of gloom and pretended he wasn’t having a good time. Sibella scribbled furiously in her sketchbook, deftly working to capture Jimmy McCrae in action as he balanced an empty glass on his nose.

“It is all so meaningless,” Nikolai said in his heavy Russian accent. “Must we always fiddle while Rome burns?”

Allie laughed. “Is there a fire somewhere I haven’t heard about, Kolya?”

He gazed at her from dark, soulful eyes. “There is the one in my heart, which only you can extinguish.”

“Oh, knock off the mushy talk, comrade,” Jimmy said, tossing his glass from hand to hand. “You know Allie ain’t interested.”

Allie smiled sweetly. “What would I do if I didn’t have you to tell me all about myself, Jimmy?”

“Good question.” He grinned and loosened his collar. “What I don’t get is why you haven’t fallen for me.”

“Because she has better taste than that,” Bruce said. “Such good taste, in fact, that I doubt any guy will meet with her approval in the foreseeable future.”

“Don’t listen to him, Allie,” Nathan said, his gentle face achingly sincere. “Sometimes he just likes to hear the sound of his own voice.”

Bruce snorted. “Allie would be the first to agree with me.”

The music had stopped. Pepper jumped down from the table and plopped into a chair, her face flushed and her eyes bright. “What are y’all talkin’ about?” she demanded. “Come on, tell!”

Allie signaled to the waiter to bring another round of drinks. “It’s nothing very interesting, really,” she said lightly. “Just a discussion of my love life.”

Pepper leaned forward, the neckline of her frock falling open to reveal a sliver of her fashionably flat bust line. “How excitin’! Who is he, darlin’?”

“Nobody, Pep,” Jimmy said. “Just the usual string of one-night stands.”

“That’s right,” Allie said. “I believe in keeping things uncomplicated.” She accepted a whiskey from the waiter and took a long drink. “I’m not the kind to settle down like Bruce and Nathan.”

“Who says I’ve settled down?” Bruce said.

“Don’t you be mean to Nathan, darlin’, or you’ll regret it. Won’t he, Allie?”