But this was all bullshit.
Pulling my cell phone out of my pocket, I dialed Benedetto DeCarlo’s private line.
“Cap,” was his only greeting.
“I need info on someone, ASAP,” I told him.
“OK. Who?”
“Her name is Rose Henderson. I’m going to scan her file and send it to you now. I need everything you can find on her.”
“I’ll put my men on it,” he replied.
“Not your men, you. I want just you checking on this. No one else.”
DeCarlo was quiet a moment. “Going to tell me why?”
“I think . . . I fucking think . . .” What did I think? That little girl had looked just like Addy, but what did that even mean? Addy was gone. So who was Rose? “I think she’s connected to her.” I knew he’d understand. There was only one her in my life who had ever mattered.
“I’ll have your info within the next few hours,” he said before we disconnected.
Once I had the file scanned and sent to DeCarlo, I sank into my chair and stared at the paperwork in my hands. So many similarities. Was I grasping at something in desperation? Yes, Rose had Addy’s laugh, and when she smiled, I sometimes felt like I’d been kicked in the stomach. Those could have been coincidences, but the little girl looked like Addy. So goddamn much like Addy that I hadn’t been able to speak at first. She was younger than the Addy I’d first met, but she still looked so much like her. It had been hard to breathe.
The look on Rose’s face had screamed that she was hiding something. Hell, she’d practically run away from me. There was something to that. I knew there was. I wasn’t making this shit up. Who the hell was Rose Henderson?
• • •
I wasn’t good at waiting. I’d memorized every word on Rose’s job application. I had gone over every conversation I’d ever had with her. The night my dreams about Addy had returned was after the first time I’d heard Rose laugh. Then it turned out that her daughter looked exactly like Addy. There was a connection. There had to be a fucking connection.
No one here knew Rose. Except, possibly, Brad. I was irrationally angry with him at the moment, because he was close to someone who was somehow connected to Addy. It made no sense, but I didn’t like it. I wanted him away from her.
But right now, I wanted to know what he knew about Rose. Maybe she’d said something to him that could be a clue. I headed straight for the kitchen, knowing he was in there working. The moment the door swung open, Brad looked up.
“We need to talk,” I said, before he could start telling me about some new entrée he wanted to try or how well another one was doing. The man always talked about food.
“OK,” he said, with a slight frown, as he set down his knife and wiped his hands on the towel hanging at the waist of his jeans.
“It’s about Rose. Can you meet me in my office?” I didn’t want anyone else overhearing this.
Brad’s eyes went wide, and he nodded. “Sure. She OK?”
“Yeah,” I replied in a clipped tone.
I went back to my office, Brad following me.
Once he closed the door behind him, I didn’t wait for him to ask anything else. This was my time for questions. “Where is Rose from? Did she ever mention it?”
Brad’s frown grew deeper, and then he shook his head. “No,” he said.
“She ever talk about any family other than her daughter?”
“She doesn’t have any family. She was a foster kid.” He said the words as if they were a simple fact. The impact of them, however, burst open the tight hold I had on something I didn’t want to believe.
“Foster kid,” I repeated, but it wasn’t a question.
“Yeah, she said she left the system when she was sixteen because of a bad situation. Won’t talk about anything else, though. She shuts down pretty fast.”
I sat on the edge of my desk and gripped the sides of it in both hands to keep from screaming out in relief or rage or . . . fuck if I knew what was happening to me right now. This wasn’t real. I couldn’t believe this.
“She do something wrong? She’s a really good, genuine person, Captain. Great mom. And a single mom, at that. Never been married.”
I wanted to be alone so I could call DeCarlo. But I had one more question. “How old is her daughter?”
“Nine.”
Fuck me.
Addy
When we got home and I saw that Captain’s truck wasn’t in the drive, I knew it wouldn’t be long before it would be. I took Franny over to visit with Mrs. Baylor and explained that I would be having company later, making sure that Franny could stay until I came for her.
Mrs. Baylor had looked concerned, but then I was battling anxiety, fear, and uncertainty so fiercely that hiding it was impossible. Getting Franny safely tucked away and dealing alone until Captain showed up was best. I had to come to a decision.
Captain knew something. He was connecting the dots. It was very likely he did recognize me but hated me so badly that he had let me leave. But I knew enough about the man he’d become to know he was going to want more answers. I expected his questions sooner rather than later.
I hadn’t been back at the house for an hour before his truck pulled into the driveway. When I heard the crunch of seashells under the tires, I knew without looking that it was him. I waited at my kitchen table while he made his way to the door.
His footsteps stopped, and he waited a moment before he knocked. This was it. Time for the truth. I’d deal with the consequences and keep Franny as protected as possible.