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“Your… husband?”
Theta nodded. She hoped Alma could read the warning in her eyes.
“Pleased to meet you, Mr. Stoughton,” Alma said coolly, extending her hand.
“Can you get us a drink, honey? We’re thirsty here,” Roy barked.
“I’ll send a waiter.” Alma shot Theta a withering glance, and Theta wished she could crawl under the table and never come back.
And then, in the wings, she saw Memphis. Just the sight of him, leaning against the wall, his notebook under his arm, made Theta’s heart beat faster. They were supposed to get married and move to Hollywood. Now they were worlds apart. Memphis hated her. And she had been blackmailed into being with Roy. It was like being stuck in a living nightmare that not even Henry and Ling could free her from.
“Seems like you been up here a lot. Enough to make friends,” Roy said.
“You know how it is. Show business. The dancers all know each other,” Theta said, hoping he’d buy the fib.
One of Dutch Schultz’s men took a seat at their table. He bent low and whispered in Roy’s ear. “Boss needs you to help with a problem. He thinks he knows who’s doing the healing for the competition. Fella who works for Papa Charles. His name is Memphis Campbell. He wants you to take care of him.”
“When?”
“Tonight.”
Theta listened in terror. She had to keep Roy here. She had to warn Memphis. “I gotta powder my nose. ’Scuse me, gentlemen.”
On shaking legs, Theta pushed through the crowd. But when she got backstage, Memphis wasn’t there. She went back into the club. Their table was empty.
“No, no,” she said.
Alma was just coming offstage. “Alma! You seen Memphis?”
Alma appraised her coolly. “Who wants to know, Mrs. Stoughton?”
“It’s too long a story to tell now, but I ain’t happy about being Mrs. Stoughton, believe me. And I think Memphis is in trouble. Big trouble. My husband works for Dutch.”
Alma’s eyes widened. “He’s been going out back to write sometimes.”
“Thanks!” Theta said, and ran out of the club. When she got to the alley behind the club, she put a hand to her mouth. Roy and two of Dutch’s men surrounded Memphis. Three against one.
“We shoulda taken you out when we had the chance. You gonna start healing for us, Diviner. Or we’re gonna end you right now,” Roy was saying. “And if some crazy bird comes around, we’ll shoot it, too.”
“Roy! Don’t!” Theta screamed. She ran and put herself between Roy and Memphis.
“Theta?” Memphis said. He already had a bloody lip and a swollen cheek. “What’re you doing? Get out of here.”
Roy looked from Theta to Memphis, the realization taking root. “I’ll be damned. I mighta known. Mighta known you was lying this whole time.”
Dutch’s men cackled with glee. “Aww, Roy. You got yourself a situation.”
Roy’s eyes were murderous. “Get over here, Betty.”
Floating. Up to the ceiling. Not here. Theta couldn’t float away this time. Not with Memphis in danger.
Theta shook her head. “No.”
“I said, get over here!” Roy yanked Theta by the hair, dragging her away from Memphis.
“Leave her alone!” Memphis said,
grabbing hold of Roy by his jacket sleeve.
