Page 58 of The Deadly Candies

“How about we go for a ride instead?”

Ely and Kathy’s heads turned, surprised.

“What? It’s Saturday, ain’t it?” Janey smirked. “You should be able to.”

Ely hesitated. “Where?”

Janey’s smile faded.

“The Elliots’ place. Mama’s cabin. I know it’s still there.”

The air in the truck thickened.

“Docker boys run it now,” Ely muttered. “They runallof Butts.”

Janey’s gaze hardened.

“They wouldn’t dare burn it down,” she said. “Would they?”

Ely exhaled.

“As far as I know,” he muttered. “We go, we see it, weleave. No trouble.”

Janey’s lips curled.

“Sure,” she said sweetly. “No trouble.”

Kathy smiled. “Me too. I want to see it too.”

18

Kathy Sweets - Harlem, 1949

“Brenda?” Claudia called out as she flipped the sign toClosed. The last of the staff had already left. They had a party to cater for Bumpy Johnson in the morning, so everyone had headed out early to return early and start on the menu.

“Brenda!” Claudia called again, her voice echoed through the empty bakery.

“I’m right here,” Brenda answered, emerging from the back in her apron, hands to hips. Claudia smiled at her. “Do you want me to count out the receipts? Or start the cleaning?”

“Leave it. Henry will come for the register before we leave. Help me in the kitchen.”

Claudia nodded. Her back ached, and her feet throbbed, but it was a good pain. Working for the family—her family—was different from serving, cleaning, and caring for white folks. This work gave her a sense of pride, a strength she could hold on to. She could never defend Debbie wanting to work for the Italians, and now that school had started, she agreed with the family that Debbie’s summer of independence should come to an end.

“What do you need me to do?” Claudia asked, stepping into the kitchen to find it in pristine condition.

Brenda just stared at her.

Claudia paused, her brow furrowing.

“Brenda?”

Brenda broke. Tears spilled down her cheeks as she choked out, “Help me, Lord.”

Claudia moved quickly, pulling Brenda into her arms. Brenda was one of the strongest women she knew. No woman could take down a man like King Redmond the way Brenda had. But it was her silence, her quiet suffering, that Claudia feared most. She patted Brenda’s back gently. “Did it work?”

Brenda pulled away, shaking her head. “I did what you said. I went back to our bed, let him make love to me. I thought… it felt like he was softening, likewewere softening.”

Claudia nodded; her expression steady.

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