Helen’s heart dropped. “Joe isn’t even in California?”
“No, he left two years ago, and hasn’t been back.”
“Oh, dear.” Helen took off her glasses and wiped at her stinging eyes. Vera had never mentioned that Joe had a brother. She only ever talked about Joe, and how he was coming back. Coming back for her and the baby. Someday.
Perhaps she should have listened to Mr. Amery when he said going to California was a bad idea. That there was no telling what could happen to her and Grace, on the way or once they got here. He’d been kind to Helen after the deaths of her family, giving her a job at his grocery and renting out the apartment above the store to her, and though he’d been a bit begrudging at first, he had let Vera move in as well. Despite all, he’d been very good to both Vera and Grace upon the birth of the baby.
What would happen now? If Joe wasn’t in California, what would she do with Grace?
She had to go get her, that was a given.
“I’ll be back,” she told Julia while picking up her purse. “Thank you, again.”
Jack was still in the kitchen, pacing near the door. He stopped and stared at her as she left the back room.
“Are you ready now?”
“Yes.” In the three months since Grace had been born, they’d never been apart, and excitement at seeing the baby, holding her, increased the speed of Helen’s footsteps. “I’m ready.”
“Let’s go.” Jack pulled open the kitchen door and held it as she crossed over the threshold.
All eyes seemed to land on them, and followed her and Jack as he grasped her elbow and led her through the restaurant toward the door. It was more than uncomfortable, it was unnerving, and, as if she needed an extra reminder, it reinforced exactly why she’d brought Grace to California. She couldn’t be seen. She couldn’t be dragged back to the life she’d been running from ever since that awful night. Her parents and brother had died in the raid at the restaurant, but she hadn’t. She and Karen had run down the hallway, along with a crowd of others, and down to the basement where they raced through a maze of tunnels that had brought them outside in an alley, blocks away from the restaurant.
Her 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?”
Some
thing 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. Actually, three or four, until they’d figured out Joe wasn’t being faithful. That’s what had gotten him blackballed. Infidelity. That time it had been on the woman’s part, and her husband, another actor, hadn’t liked it in the least. Nor had the people they worked for.
“Would you like to see them?” she asked.
Frustration ate at his insides. He couldn’t have another scandal right now. This film meant too much. He’d worked so hard to get back to this point. The cusp of success. Self-made success.
He straightened his spine and rolled his shoulders back, telling himself not to get too caught up in this until he knew the truth. The entire truth. He had a film to make. One that would put Star’s Studio at the top of the charts. In theaters across the nation. He was so close, and had worked too hard keeping his reputation clean despite his brother’s shenanigans.
She was still standing near the sofa, with an envelope in her hand. He walked in that direction, but only as far as his desk, hating the fact that he was putting off the moment when she might just offer the proof of what she was saying. “What’s your name?”
There was a moment of hesitation in her eyes, on her face, but then with a soft sigh, she said, “Helen. Helen Hathaway.”
He leaned against his desk. “Well, Miss Hathaway...” He paused as another thought struck. “It is Miss, isn’t it? Or are you married?” He knew of more than one woman who’d left a husband behind to come to Hollywood. One had told him she’d left five children behind and needed an acting job in order to send money back home in order to feed them. The sad thing was, he’d known she’d been telling the truth.
“No. I mean yes. It’s Miss, I’m not married.”
Her stammering displayed her nervousness, so did her stance. It looked as if she was about to jump out of her shoes, or run for the door.
He nodded and then finished what he’d been about to say earlier. “The last I heard about Joe is that he’s in Florida.”
“Florida?” She turned and stared at the couch, at the baby sleeping there.
“Yes, Florida.”
“Oh, dear.”
He shot across the room as all color left her face. Not sure what to do, because she hadn’t fainted, but was swaying slightly, he asked, “Do you need to sit down?”
She nodded.
He took her arm, guided her a couple of steps backward and onto the opposite end of the couch from where the baby was sleeping.
Despair filled her eyes as she said, “Florida is so far away.”
It was, but he wasn’t concerned about that. “Do you need a drink of water?”
She shook her head. “No, thank you, I’m fine.”
She didn’t look fine to him. Not so much as a hint of color had returned to her cheeks. Something inside him, an instinct of sorts, said it wasn’t Florida that had sapped the life out of her.
“I’m going to get you that glass of water,” he said. “I’ll be right back.”
Chapter Three
Jack kept one eye on her until he was at the doorway, then he hurried down the hallway to get a glass of water.
Secrecy was just one of the games played in Hollywood. It was played by almost everyone, and was also the one that no one wanted to get caught playing. For the most part, he’d never played that game himself. Hadn’t needed to.
He did recognize it though, and there was more to Helen Hathaway than she was letting on.
He could make some phone calls, see if he could locate Joe and question him about the woman’s accusations. But that was unnecessary. Would be futile, too. If Joe had married someone, and cared about her, or the baby, he wouldn’t need to be searched out.
On the other hand, if it wasn’t true, if this Helen Hathaway was looking for something else, Joe might know what that might be.
Jack clamped his back teeth together. He’d put nearly everything he had into this movie. Others had put up a good amount of money, too—not the Broadbents, real investors, and he was determined that not a hint of Joe’s name would be tied to this movie. Los Angeles was a big town and the movie industry was growing daily. In many ways. Good and bad. Corruption had already burrowed its way deep inside and studios were walking a fine line.
The powers that be who’d put themselves in charge of the industry wanted all of America to believe Hollywood was the pinnacle of this nation. Where dreams came true, streets were lined with gold, and beds made of rose petals.
It was all baloney. The billboards who put themselves in charge had more skeletons in their closets than those they were blackballing—like his brother. But that was the way it was, and would remain, until a few legitimate studios rose high enough to knock the big five off their pedestals.
And it would happen. Others were getting wise to the way the big companies had taken over theaters. Buying them up across the nation and monopolizing the movies that could be shown in “their” theaters. Only their movies. For every big hit, they forced the theaters to show dozens of their low-budget movies, controlling the payouts other films could make.
That was all about to turn around. Which is precisely what he was counting on happening. His new film could be the one that really changed things. It was a good script. With solid actors and a story line that would drive people into the theaters by the droves—theaters that would have the right to show whatever movies they chose. It was all lined up. If he made it with this film, finally he’d have secured his place in the movie industry. Finally he’d have the security he’d wanted for more years than he could count. And he’d have done it his way.
If nothing went astray.
An abandoned baby could cause that to happen. Cause trouble he couldn’t afford.
He got the water and headed back to his office.
She was still sitting on the couch, but now had one hand on the baby.
There was something about her that struck him deep inside. Had since he’d seen her unique blue eyes, and her nervousness made him curious to know exactly what she wanted, what she was hiding.
She glanced up and, as he’d seen her do several times, tilted her chin downward to look over the top of the glasses. Why would a woman wear a pair of glasses that she couldn’t see through? The glasses didn’t take away from her beauty, but they did disguise it slightly. So did her clothes. They were loose fitting and drab. Almost as if she didn’t want to stand out in any way. Here, in Hollywood, her getup did the exact opposite—they made her stand out like a sore thumb.
He carried the water across the room. “Feel better?”
“Yes, thank you.” The smile she offered was forced and she barely took a drink of the water before handing him back the glass.
He set the glass on a nearby table.
“Here.” She held up the envelope.
Jack took it, folded back the flap and pulled out a picture. It certainly was Joe smiling back at the camera. The woman beside him was surprising. There was nothing vibrant about her. She was cute, but, well, average. A dime a dozen. Certainly not the type that Joe had been drawn to his entire life.
And certainly not the woman sitting on the couch, either.
Jack tucked the picture back in the envelope and pulled out a folded piece of paper. It was a marriage license. The signature at the bottom was one he knew. Joe had spent hours practicing flamboyant ways to sign his name and had perfected one that he’d used for the last ten-plus years. Ever since both of them had played roles in the traveling shows their parents had forced them to perform in across the nation. Joe had loved it. He hadn’t.
Jack put the paper back in the envelope with the picture. “What proof do you have that the baby is this woman’s?”
Her glasses had slid down her nose, allowing her to gaze over the top of the rims without dipping her chin. “I was there when Grace was born.”
“So, you are friends with her?”
“I was. As I said, Vera died three weeks ago.” She glanced at the baby for a second, then back at him with a tenderness in her eyes. “That was her name Vera. Vera McCarney.”
He gave a slight nod of respect. It wasn’t his job to judge this woman, or the woman Joe had obviously married, but in the end, he was the jury, the only member, who would have to decide what to do about the situation at hand. In order to do that, he needed all the information he could get. “Had the two of you been longtime friends?”
Once again, she glanced at the baby before answering. “No. I met her a short time before Gracie was born.”
There was tenderness in her eyes and sadness. Refusing to let what he saw affect him, he walked over to his desk and set the envelope down. “Where?”
“In Chicago.”
“But you never met Joe?”
She shook her head.
He pointed to the envelope on his desk. “This may say that my brother married a woman named Vera Baker last year in Chicago, but it in no way provides any proof that that baby is either Vera’s or Joe’s.”
Baby On His Hollywood Doorstep (Brides 0f The Roaring Twenties Book 1) Page 3