The Best Goodbye
Page 20Captain took a deep breath and looked past me toward the building. “Is that your daughter?”
“Yes.”
He moved his gaze back to mine. “Then who are you?”
I wasn’t giving him that. “You have all my info on file,” I reminded him.
He pulled off his sunglasses, and his eyes narrowed slightly as he studied me. I tried not to hold my breath, but I couldn’t help it. There was a part of me that wanted him to see me. But the part of me that knew he wasn’t my River anymore wanted to remain hidden. Not just for Franny’s sake but also for my own.
River had wanted to protect me, but this man . . . I wasn’t sure how I’d survive him. He could break me in a way I wouldn’t recover from.
“Take off the glasses.” Captain’s words sounded like an order, although his voice was just above a whisper.
I stared up at him. This time, I was frozen. Did he see me now? Was that it? If I took off the glasses, it was over. He’d know, and then what? Would I just gamble on him accepting Franny? Accepting that I’d been hiding my identity all these years?
“This place is so cool!” Franny’s excited voice called out.
“I hate the dentist,” Franny grumbled, her excitement suddenly vanishing as she remembered where we were headed.
“But you want to keep your teeth,” I reminded her, like I always did. I was more than aware of the set of eyes following our every move, but although the heat from his stare could be felt against every inch of my body, I didn’t look back. I kept walking to the car, praying he would just let us go.
Franny turned and waved at him, and I shut my eyes tightly, wishing my daughter wasn’t so damn friendly sometimes. She climbed back into the car, and I did the same.
My prayer was answered. He let us go.
Captain
I went straight to the employee files and pulled out the folder for Rose Henderson. I read over her personal information, her past jobs, and her address. She’d received a GED. There was no mention of college in her file. She’d been working since she was eighteen and had excellent references from all of her former employers. Especially the elementary school in Oklahoma where she had recently worked as a secretary.
But this was all bullshit.
Pulling my cell phone out of my pocket, I dialed Benedetto DeCarlo’s private line.
“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.
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.