Yesterday's Stardust by Becky Melby Read Free Book Online

“It’s the middle of the afternoon, and it’s a free country.”
    He took a step toward her. “Really?” He swept his arm toward the restaurant. “Notice anything unusual? Do you see bars on the windows at Mangia or Ray Radigan’s? It may be a free country, sister, but there isn’t a lot of freedom in this neighborhood. I can point out two drug houses on this block alone. You think their customers feel free? You think…”
    Dani’s temperature rose with each word. Spinning away from him, she marched two yards. And slammed her heel into an iron grate. Swooping forward, nose to outstretched knee, her hands hit the sidewalk, stopping her momentum. Before she could right herself, Dominick Fiorini knelt at her feet.
    “Are you all right?” Genuine, or deftly faked, concern drenched his words. Dark chocolate eyes intensified the heat on her face.
    He smelled of warm bread and sandalwood.
    Broad hands lifted her foot from her shoe and yanked at her stiletto. Freeing it, he slid it onto her foot. “There you go, Cinderella.”
    Swallowing wasn’t an option. Her tongue fused to the roof of her mouth.
    “Now go home and stay safe.” His soft words slid over her like butter on fresh-baked rolls.
    She nodded and turned away. Five steps toward the corner, her tongue loosened enough for a hoarse “Thank you.”

    A yellow-tinged newspaper clipping floated out of the diary as Dani set it on her kitchen table.
    July 29, 1928
    Two A RMED M EN S HOT IN J EWELRY S TORE H OLDUP
    She picked it up and read the lead.
    Jewelers Row saw yet another robbery this week as three gunmen broke into Walbrecht’s Jewelers on Wabash Street and absconded with more than ’10,000 worth of cut diamonds, rings, and necklaces. The take would have been much higher, however, if an anonymous caller had not tipped off the police at the very moment the heist was unfolding.
    Now that was good journalism. She’d love to see the look on Mitch’s face if she worked the word
absconded
into a piece. She set the clipping aside, took a sip of Tazo Calm tea, and reread the inscription inside the cover. On the opposite page, perfect penmanship spelled out
Francie Tillman, Osseo, Wisconsin.
    She turned to the first entry.
    January 1, 1924
    A new year and all these pages waiting to be filled with plans for adventure! Nothing exciting ever happens around here, but I won’t be here forever. As soon as I graduate I’m moving to New York City. I’ll get there even if I have to walk. I’ll show my sketches to someone at Harry Angelo if it kills me!
    “Who are you, Francie Tillman?” A quick calculation told her there wasn’t a chance she’d still be alive. Turning the book over, she opened it from the back. Just to look at the final date. She didn’t want any more of a spoiler than that. On the inside back cover was a sepia-toned picture of a young woman with a brimless hat pulled low over her forehead. A sash, darker than the hat, was tied on the right with a massive bow.
    “Love your style, girl. You were lucky. Fashion got off track in the fifties and never recovered.” Had Francie lived through any of that fashion nightmare era? Dani set the book down and got up to fill the tea kettle. While waiting for it to boil, she remembered a call she’d ignored earlier. She took a deep breath and listened to her voicemail.
    “Glad you liked the flowers, honey. Dad and I are so proud of you. Soon you’ll be writing for the
Sun Times
or the
New York Times.
This is just the beginning. Love you.”
    Rubbing her right temple with one hand, she dialed her best friend with the other.
    “Hi! This is Anna’s phone. Leave a message because, whoever you are, if you have this number, you’re important to me.”
Beeep.
    The second number got her a real human. “Hey, you okay?” Once again, Evan’s concern brought her close to tears. “Any word from China?”
    “Nothing.”
    “Just as well, maybe. So how are you doing with the fame and fortune side of your life,