uncle hadn’t died either, and upon discovering that she was staying with Karen, had sent men to collect her. Despite Karen’s warnings that there was no escaping the family, Helen had run again. She hadn’t wanted that life before the raid, and certainly didn’t afterward. The violence had only grown after the raid that night. There were shoot-outs in all sections of the city, at all times of the day and night. So many that the newspapers, which she read every night after stocking shelves and scrubbing the floors at the grocery store, couldn’t keep up.
Thankfully, her uncle hadn’t found her, but it was only a matter of time. She knew that deep inside and that was the reason she’d brought Grace to California. She’d been saving every penny to eventually get away from Chicago, but Grace was the catalyst that made it even more necessary. She’d had to get the baby away from the dangers of being anywhere near her.
Her heart sank. She still had to do that.
She had no reason to believe that someone hadn’t recognized her or seen her as she’d left Chicago. The possibility of that was real. She’d learned a lot during the past two years and knew the Outfit had eyes and ears everywhere. They’d bought off most every police precinct in Chicago, and she knew it was pure luck that she hadn’t already been found and taken back to her uncle.
Karen had said there was only one way to get out of their family and that it included a grave.
The walk across that dining room, with all eyes on her, seemed like the longest one of her life. She had to let out a sigh once it ended, but stepping into the open air wasn’t any better. She’d felt safe enough on the train, had sat way in the back and kept her head down; but here, she was in the open. The wide open.
The traffic was minimal and it was hard for her not to run across the street.
When they arrived at the other side, the woman she’d handed Grace to earlier opened the door.
“The baby’s is sleeping,” she said. “I put her on the couch in your office.”
Helen’s heart skipped a beat. Grace hadn’t rolled over yet, but could at any time, and fall off the sofa.
“Thank you, Miss Hobbs.” Jack held the door for her to walk out. “Good night.”
“Good night,” the woman said, shooting out the door.
“Where is your office?” Helen asked. “I need to check on Grace.”
He pointed at a door across the room. Helen hurried in that direction and then down a long hallway to an open door on the left.
Relief filled her as she entered the room and saw Grace sleeping on the sofa. There was a blanket rolled up beside her, so if she had rolled over, she wouldn’t have fallen off. Helen walked closer and laid a hand on the baby. It felt so good to touch her again. To see her. Being parted from her had been horrific—more than she could have ever expected.
Jack was in the doorway, staring at her. Helen’s throat thickened. No matter how much she’d missed Grace today, how much she loved her, she still had to do the right thing. Find Joe McCarney.
“She’s sleeping.” Helen had no idea why she said that aloud.
“I see that,” he said.
She nodded and then closed her eyes, willing for whatever strength there was inside her to reveal itself.
* * *
Jack experienced a bout of anger like never before. Not at her. At Joe. If this was Joe’s baby... What? What could he do about it? He didn’t have a clue as to where his brother might be.
He didn’t even know this woman’s name. Wasn’t sure he wanted to know. But, beneath her drab clothing, he saw how pretty she was, and that beauty would have attracted Joe’s attention.
His full attention.
“I—I know now that Gracie isn’t your child,” she said quietly. “And I apologize for just leaving her here, but she is your brother’s child. Joe’s. And this is the address that I had for him.”
There was no reason for his stomach to drop to his feet. That statement shouldn’t have surprised him. Joe had been giving this address out to women since he’d left. The bag of mail in the closet proved that.
“When did he give you this address?” Jack asked.
“He didn’t. If you have another address for him, I’d appreciate if you’d give it to me. I really need to find him. As soon as possible.”
The desperation in her voice was almost convincing. Of all the women who’d come begging for an audition, she might be the one who did have what it took to be an actress. Just his luck. “Then how did you get this address?” Another thought struck him. “Why didn’t he give it to you? If Joe really is the father to your baby?”
Her gaze fell to the floor. “Grace isn’t my baby.” She bit her lip and lifted those beautiful eyes back up to him. “Her mother was my friend, Vera. She passed away a few weeks ago. In Chicago.”
The pleading in those eyes unsettled him.
“Please, Mr. McCarney, if I can’t find Joe, Grace will be an orphan.”
The flop of his stomach was merited this time. Chicago. Last he heard, Joe was down in Florida, Miami, but he had been in Chicago a year ago. Working for the circus. Damn it, Joe!
Jack took a deep breath, and told himself that he still didn’t have enough information to believe this woman.
“Please, Mr. McCarney. All I’m asking is for you to tell me where I can find Joe. Grace needs her father. Her family. She has no one else.”
No matter how sincere this woman sounded, he had to be cautious. Joe could be anywhere and if he committed to the idea that Joe was the baby’s father, that would make him the baby’s uncle—a responsibility he didn’t need right now.
He pushed the heavy air out of his lungs. “Why should I believe anything you have to say?”
Something flashed in those unique blue eyes. He wasn’t exactly sure what, but suddenly felt a heavy burden stir deep within his chest. A familiar burden that felt too close to the sense of responsibility he’d felt almost his entire life.
“Because I’m telling the truth,” she said quietly. “I don’t want anything else from you. Just Joe’s whereabouts.”
Anger and frustration raced through him. He’d spent the last two years cleaning up messes his brother had left behind—wasn’t even half done—but wasn’t about to get pulled into another one of Joe’s problems. Not if he could help it. “I’d need proof.”
She tilted her head downward and looked over the rim of her glasses as she dug in her purse. “I have Vera and Joe’s wedding picture and marriage license, and I was there when Grace was born.”
He bit back a curse and told himself not to jump to conclusions. A wedding picture and marriage license. That would be proof all right. Or damaging evidence, depending on which way he wanted to look at this. Deep down, he knew she could be telling the truth. Women were drawn to Joe, and he to them. He’d almost married one or two in the past.
