I switched cars at Snelling Avenue and rode for a short distance until I reached Grand. The street was filled with people shopping, strolling along the tree-lined sidewalks, and breakfasting in cafes. Though it was early, it was already hot and humid.
When the streetcar stopped at the corner of Grand Avenue and Dale Street, I exited, happy to leave the cramped quarters behind. I had to backtrack a couple of blocks to reach 581 Grand Avenue, but when I did, I was pleased to find an attractive two-story apartment building made of brown brick with white cornices and trim work. I hoped Lewis was home and that I could find a way to convince him to help me look for Annie Barker.
More than anything, I wanted to prove the criminal wasn’t my mother and that I would find another Annie Barker from Texas. But I needed help, and Lewis would have access to that information. I could have asked Thomas, but he would still be angry with me.
I crossed Grand Avenue and walked up the concrete steps to the front door, looking over my shoulder before letting myself into the building. If someone learned that I had visited a single man at his home, the gossip could hurt Father’s reputation as much as it could hurt mine. But this couldn’t wait.
It was only a little cooler inside as I walked down the hallway to apartment number three.
Even though I’d known Lewis most of my life, it still felt odd to visit him at his home. Alone. But after yesterday and going to Nina Clifford’s brothel with him, this wouldn’t be the most shocking thing I’d ever done.
With a firm rap, I knocked on his door and then stepped back to wait, hoping no one would find me in the hallway.
It took a few moments, but I could hear the sliding of a lock, and then the door opened.
Lewis stood on the other side holding a bowl of cornflakes, his face unshaven and his hair mussed, as if he’d recently woken up. He was wearing a pair of trousers, a simple white undershirt, and suspenders. His feet and arms were bare.
He looked surprisingly handsome.
“Carrie!” he said with both shock and pleasure. “What are you doing here?”
I had never seen him in such a state of undress—at least, not since we were young and had gone swimming at a lake near ourhome. But he’d only been a boy then, and not the man standing before me.
“I—” My cheeks were flaming, and I was more flustered than I anticipated. “May I come in?”
“Let me put on a shirt.” He set his bowl on a nearby table and left the door open, disappearing into the back room.
I cautiously entered his home, closing the door behind me in case someone would come along and see me there.
His apartment wasn’t very large, which was why he could probably afford it on his salary. But it was tidy and comfortable. To the left of the main room was a kitchen, and to the right were two doors. Lewis had gone into one, which I presumed was the bedroom, and the other was open, revealing a small bathroom.
I stood in the parlor, clutching my purse, though I didn’t regret coming. I needed to find Annie Barker, and I didn’t care what it would take.
A few minutes later, Lewis reappeared wearing a white button-down shirt, which he had tucked into his trousers. His suspenders were now over the shirt, and he was wearing socks and shoes. His brown hair had also been combed—but he hadn’t taken the time to shave.
“Have a seat,” he said as he picked up his cereal bowl and a stack of newspapers and brought them to the kitchen. “Would you like something to drink or eat?”
“No, thank you.” I sat on the edge of the sofa, trying not to fidget with my purse. Instead, I set it on the coffee table and clasped my hands on my lap.
When Lewis returned to the parlor, he seemed uncertain about where to sit—next to me on the sofa or on the nearby chair? Finally, he sat on the chair and asked, “What are you doing here, Caroline?”
“I need a favor.”
“Oh.” He leaned back in his chair, obviously disappointed. “Do you need help getting rid of Alice?”
“No—yes—but that’s not why I’m here.” I licked my dry lips,wishing I had taken his offer for something to drink. How would I explain this request? “I need help finding someone.”
His frown deepened. “Who?”
I nibbled my bottom lip and then blurted out, “Annie Barker.”
A dozen questions crossed his face before he asked, “Annie Barker, the criminal?”
“Yes.” I shook my head. “No.”
“What do you mean?”
“I need to know if there is more than one Annie Barker from Texas.”
