Cora McQuaid is seen as an innocent woman who owns a bakery in 1922. However, there seems to be a past that is unknown by her friends and family members. As blood is spilled, and temptations appear. Cora's past comes out in the battle of her life st...
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Hello, welcome to one of my first stories on this platform in years. This first chapter is kinda rocky but the next one is more fulfilling. Please live a vote and comment. Even if you hate this story tell me why. Trust me after a few years of college it takes a lot to bring me down.
A lazy wind blew down the square, playing with the signs hung out from shop fronts. Tree branches full of green leaves sway as it travels upwards to the courthouse dome, making the American flag flap around as the town comes quickly to life, as the sunrises and smoke from the factories start to make clouds in the sky like every day. Inside of a white and green trimmed storefront that's wedged between the Darwin Tool Store and Madam Teresa Dress and Suit Shop, a young woman flipped the open sign with flour cover hands. The shop had three little tables and a booth for customers to sit as they sip tea or ate their pastries up near the storefront. An old piano held residence near the hallway leading to the kitchen. And she stood at her place like every morning, except Sunday on those days she went to church, at the dark oak counter that displayed pastries and candies. Behind her was a wall full of spices, teas in glass jars, canvas bags of coffee beans, and a bright color display of cigarettes.
A smile dawns her face as the shiny brass bell above the door dings for the first time that morning. In steps one of her regulars, Jack Glady, he was an owner of a speakeasy and a common criminal. Jack was a typical man in Newark, but in the eyes of the Irish community, he was considered more handsome than most men and the King of Booze. He had dark red hair that was almost black, that only shone a ruby-red when the sun hit it just right. It was strange that he came in every day, made his order, and left as quickly as he had come but, it was even more unusual that he starts a conversation that May morning.
"Miss McQuaid, have you heard what happened on the square last night."
She tilted her head in confusion, her fingered waved hair obeying gravity swaying a little, "No. What happened? I haven't read the paper yet? Was there another fire?"
"This guy, you see, he was trying to rat out all of the speakeasies in town. But we caught onto him. Then around 10, last night the lad was hung on the square after shooting he shot Neil," he leans over the counter as she stares at him in terror.
"Why did he shoot Neil? He's not a bad man. He goes to work like the rest of us." Cora starts to package his traditional pastries and pack of cigarettes.
"I guess Neil was beating up the lad" Jack shrugs his shoulders as he continues to lean towards the scared lass, "and the lad decided it was smart to pull out his gun," jack makes a shooting motion with his hands, "Guess Neil kicked the bucket a few hours after he got shot. Then once they heard of his death, they broke the lad out of the jailhouse and lynched him," She hands him his bag of pastries and packs of cigarettes as he gives her a few coins.
"Now, I hope ya didn't have anything to do with that?"
"Cora." There's a pause as he sighs, "The Italians last night thought it was us. They're thinking we're trying to rat out their speakeasies since ours are the only ones left. But I had the same man to come to my bar last night."
