comment, silently she acknowledged that he had just raised his esteem in her own book sizably.
Yet there was a more nagging question, one she hadn’t been able to put to rest since Mitch had posed it. “Aunt Rhoda, can you think of any other reason Mom and Dad didn’t tell me about the adoption?”
A shadow flickered over Rhoda’s face and she answered slowly, her voice strained. “I’ve already told you. They thought you were happy. Why rock the boat?”
Laura glanced over at Mitch and saw the skepticism on his face. She wasn’t sure why, but she sensed that Rhoda was concealing something. Still, her aunt had insisted she would do anything she could do to help in the search. “And there’s nothing else?”
A dart of something resembling fear surfaced in Rhoda’s eyes, but she shook her head. “No.” Then she looked at Mitch. “But you’re supposed to discover things mere mortals can’t, aren’t you?”
Mitch lifted one side of his mouth in a wry grin. “I haven’t heard it put that way, but yes, I suppose so.” With the words he rose.
Automatically, Laura did so as well, but she reached out to snag his arm, not ready to stop her questions. As she started to speak, his gaze cautioned her to drop the inquiry. Startled by the insistence in his eyes, she followed him, absently bidding her aunt goodbye as they left.
Once outside, though, she wasn’t as acquiescent. “Why did you stop me? We need to find out everything we can about—”
“Pushing people isn’t the way to do it. We got enough for today.”
Frustration borne of worry seized her. “You don’t seem to understand. We don’t have time to waste. My son’s life is at stake!”
He met her gaze, his deceptively easygoing manner not concealing the intelligence in his tigerlike eyes. “I understand perfectly. Which is why we don’t want to alienate your relatives. Right now they’re our strongest source.”
Sobered, Laura had to agree. And that frightened her even more.
OBLIVIOUS TO THE alteration of cells that threatened his life, Alex was an extraordinarily happy baby, whose world was decorated with smiles and chortles of joy. Laura hadn’t realized such pure love and utter happiness could be found on this earth. She had made her share of mistakes and bad choices, but everything about Alex was both good and right.
Seeing her approaching the nursery, he stood in his crib, stretching out his arms, and shrieking for her. “Mama! Mama!”
Laura’s answering smile was instant and huge.
“How’s my boy?” she asked, bending to lift him.
“He’s an absolute peach,” Mrs. Plummer replied affectionately.
“Not that you’re prejudiced,” Laura told the older woman as she hugged Alex.
Mrs. Plummer continued picking up toys, stacking them in the padded toy box. “I am and I don’t mind admitting it.”
Once again Laura thanked the fates for Mrs. Plummer. A widow whose only daughter had died before she could marry, Mrs. Plummer had no grandchildren of her own. And she treated Alex like the grandson she’d never had. She was dependable to a fault.
Laura had struggled through the first days of single parenthood, terrified about leaving Alex in the care of strangers. And then she’d discovered Mrs. Plummer. Terror had receded, replaced by a growing dependence on the older woman. While she provided Laura with invaluable security, Laura believed that she and Alex filled a place in Mrs. Plummer’s lonely life. And although Laura had a good relationship with her, it was Alex whom Mrs. Plummer had fully connected with. But that was only natural; they spent the greatest amount of time together.
“The restaurant called,” Mrs. Plummer told her as she continued straightening the room.
Laura sighed. “I guess they don’t know what leave of absence means.”
“My thoughts exactly,” Mrs. Plummer agreed. “They take advantage of you.”
“The good and bad of being the manager.” Laura paused to nuzzle Alex’s cheek. “I’m relieved to know I’m missed, but on the other hand I’d like to leave the worries behind.”
“Then stop taking all their calls!”
“It’s not that easy. I’d like to know my job’s still there when—” she paused, her hold tightening on Alex “—I’m ready to get back to work.”
“You’ve got your inheritance,” Mrs. Plummer reminded her. “And D’Beti’s isn’t the only restaurant in the city.”
Laura sometimes wondered about the wisdom of confiding all the intimate details of her life to her baby-sitter, but Mrs. Plummer had been determined not to accept any pay while Laura was on her leave of absence. Unable to allow such a sacrifice, Laura had disclosed the source of her funds.
“So, has the hotshot detective found out anything?”
Grinning, Laura shook her head. It was a good description of the man. “Not yet. He wants me to be patient.”
Worry settled over Mrs. Plummer’s features. “But we don’t have time to be patient.”
Laura patted the older woman’s arm, knowing Alex couldn’t have asked for a more devoted surrogate grandmother. “That’s what I told him.”
Mrs. Plummer sniffed suspiciously, then ducked her face for a moment, no doubt hiding a trace of tears. “Good for you.” Then as abruptly, she headed out of the nursery. “I’d better check the chicken, or it’ll be spitting dry.”
Laura took advantage of the quiet to settle into the well-worn rocker. The gentle creak of the wood against thick carpet soothed. Alex was content to snuggle in her arms, his fingers latching onto hers. Laura smoothed back the baby-fine hair on his forehead, feeling her heart clutch. What if she couldn’t save him? Couldn’t unlock the secrets to her birth?
He kicked chubby legs and she stroked his soft skin. “Somehow I’ll find out, Alex.” Briefly, she closed her eyes. “I don’t care how it affects me.” And Laura knew it was true. Mitch Tucker could learn she was the child of criminals and she wouldn’t care—as long as it brought her closer to a cure for Alex.
HER EYES WERE definitely blue, Mitch concluded. An intense blue, one that evoked thoughts of a stormy Irish sky. Emphasis on stormy, he acknowledged. Laura Kelly was a woman possessed. And it was getting on his nerves.
“What are you doing here?” he asked, pushing still sleep-rumpled hair from his forehead. “It can’t be much later than six.”
“Seven-fifteen, Tucker. We don’t have time to waste.”
“I never consider sleeping a waste of time,” he retorted, seeing the bluish haze of dawn on the Houston skyline through the living room windows. He shook his head in continued disbelief, wishing he hadn’t provided her with his home address and phone number. “And if we’re going to talk while I’m still in my boxers, you might as well call me Mitch.”
Her face flushed, not two petite, delicate spots of color
