It was barely ten, and I was already exhausted. It didn't help that I’d had to be on set at five in the morning. That meant getting here even earlier, so I could get through wardrobe and makeup.

On top of that, I was back to sleeping like I’d been the first few months after Maya had disappeared.

As in…I wasn’t sleeping.

I’m pregnant.

Pregnant.

The words stuck inside me like some alien creature, and I couldn’t keep them out of my head for long.

“Mr. Jackson.”

I looked at the assistant and saw the glass of water he held out. Nodding my thanks, I took and drained it, sweat rolling down my back. It was hot under the stage lights, and the director was huddled up with my co-star, talking in a low, serious voice.

She nodded, her lips pressed together.

Poor kid.

He was raking her over the coals for missing her cue.

“One more take, you people. Let’s get it right!”

I passed off the glass and took my place across from her, giving her an encouraging smile.

Twenty minutes later, we were done.

“Take a break! Thirty minutes and get your asses back here!”

Ignoring the prick in the director’s chair, I grabbed my shirt and pulled it on. Sweat made it stick to me, but after spending half the morning without it on, I was ready to be clothed. I don’t know why they were determined for me to spend half this movie wearing nothing but blue jeans.

“Hello, Glenn.”

That voice stopped me in my tracks.

My belly was rumbling in a hungry demand and I eyed the rest of the people heading for the cafeteria with some disgust. I had a feeling I wasn’t going to have much of an appetite in a few minutes.

Finally, I turned and looked at Florence.

She wore a bright blue dress, her hair pulled back and secured at her nape. There were shadows under her eyes, and her fingers were white from clutching the pocketbook she carried.

The pale set to her features and the way she fidgeted told me a hundred things.

Something was wrong.

I shoved the worry down.

I had to break away from this. There wasn’t any other option. “If you’re here about Maya, I don’t want to talk about her, okay?”

“Are you that angry with her?” Florence lifted her chin, reminding me that she wasn’t the quiet, uncertain girl she’d been a few years ago. There was a challenge in her eyes, but also something that looked like fear—and desperation.

Okay, that had me a little worried.

“I’m not…” Sighing, I shoved my hair back from my face. It was damp from so many hours under the hot lights of the set, but I ignored it as I moved closer. I didn’t want everybody here—actually, anybody here—catching word of what we were talking about. “Maybe I’m a little angry. But I’ve accepted something—she’s got problems. She needs to deal with them. I can’t help her. You and me both learned that the hard way. When it comes to some things, we can only each help ourselves.”

“Problems.” She pursed her lips. “Yes, she does. She’s pregnant. She’s alone. I’d say those are problems.”

“She’s got you, apparently.” The guilt stung me again. “But I’m not the father. I can’t be. Be the mama hen with her if you need to, Florence, but take care of yourself. Don’t get sucked into that crazy of hers.”

Turning away, I started down the hall.

“She’s not crazy, you jerk.” The anger in her voice was like a slap, but I kept walking.

Her next words, though…I paused at them.

“Maya moved out. She insisted she had to figure out a way to start a life of her own.”

Slowly, I turned and met her eyes. “What?”

“You heard me. She moved out. She has a place of her own. She was supposed to start her new job today. She bought a ring and is telling people she’s a war widow.” She raked me up and down with a look. “But you don’t want to hear about her. I just hope she’s safe.”

Florence turned on her heel then and started to walk.

She couldn’t have said anything that would’ve gotten me to worry more.

“What do you mean by that?”

“You don’t want to discuss her, remember?”

“Damn it, Florence!” I caught up with her and put a hand on her shoulder. “Please.”

She glared at me, her eyes mutinous. “She moved to Willowbrook.”

I shook my head, not following.

“Do you ever pay attention to anything? There was an…incident near there last night. Fights broke out between some black people who live in Watts and the cops. They’re rioting—and Maya is practically right on top of it.”

“Have you called her and told her to come back to your place?” I demanded.

“She doesn’t exactly have a car—or a phone. She just moved in yesterday.” Florence looked like she wanted to cry. “Harrison went down there, but that was hours ago and I haven’t heard from him. I don’t even know the phone number for her landlady.”

“Shit.” Turning away, I shoved the heels of my hands against my eyes, trying to think.

It was probably nothing.

There had been a few blow-ups in the area over the past year, but nothing much had ever happened.

Riots?

Here?

Abruptly, I turned and headed for the nearest office. It belonged to the assistant director, but he’d be in the cafeteria, eating with everybody else. He had a television set in there, though. That was what I wanted.

A few minutes later, I was leaning back against his desk, feeling sick.

The newscaster was talking about the ‘incident in Watts’. Police were on scene. They had pictures and talked about how they expected to have everything under control shortly.

But what were they going to say? It’s a fucking mess, get out, get out, get out?!

“I’m going to go down there,” Florence said, her voice faint.

“Like hell you are. Astor would kick my ass.” I was tempted to do that anyway. “Just…I need a minute.”

Turning off the TV, I edged around her and headed for the cafeteria. Gone were the days when I could throw my weight around and demand whatever I wanted. I wasn’t the golden boy anymore, and if I wanted some time off, I needed to play it carefully.

I also needed to ask the right man.

That man was Pauly Jacobs, the assistant director—the man whose office I’d just borrowed.

He was sitting at a table, watching one of the TVs set up there. I wasn’t surprised to see the news on, nor was I surprised to see him riveted. Pauly was big into the social rights movement, talked endlessly about the time he’d met Dr. King. “A mess, huh?” I asked as I took the seat next to him.

“Yeah. I’m sure the police will doctor it so that their story is the only one that gets told.” He made a disgusted noise under his breath and reached for the soda on the table.

“How it goes, isn’t it?” Leaning forward, I nudged him with my arm and said, “Listen, I’ve got…well, I’ve got a problem. A friend of Florence’s lives down in Willowbrook.”

His eyes widened. “Damn.”

“Florence is talking about going to get her. That’s…I can’t let her. Astor can’t get away from his patients until later, and she’s scared to death. We’re close to done for the day…is there any way you can work the schedule, help me out?”

Pauly gave me a pained look. “You know the director is going to chew my ass over this.”

“If I don’t go, she’s going to.”

He sighed. “Yeah. Okay. Get out of here before we get called back to the set.”

I didn’t wait around another minute.

* * *

“She’s not here. She’s at work.”

Maya’s landlord, a woman in her early fifties, was blushing like a teenage girl and kept patting at her hair as I leaned across the counter. I stared out the window at the garage where Maya now lived.

Her landlord—Jean Murphy she’d told me—had gaped at me in shock when I knocked on her door, then all but passed out when I’d told her I was looking for Maya.

We’re friends. The lie had come easier than I’d liked. We weren’t friends, not really. I couldn’t describe what we were, and now ‘friends’ wasn’t even close. But even when things had been good between us, had the word friends been anything remotely adequate to describe what we had?

No.

After convincing her I was serious, Jean had let me go back and knock on Maya’s door, but she’d told me she was almost certain Maya wasn’t there.

I’d knocked. Then I’d charmed her into letting me use the key to check.Then, having exhausted all other avenues, I asked if I could use the phone.

While Jean stared at me, I put a call into Florence.

Silence reigned on the other end of the line, finally broken by her soft sigh. “I knew something was wrong. I knew it.”

“Have you heard from Harrison?”

“He…yes. He actually came back about a half-hour ago. On foot. He had to leave the car behind. He won’t tell me what happened, but…Glenn, he looked scared.”

I understood why.

I’d seen the crowds myself, and I wasn’t even in Watts.

“You said she had a job…where?”

She told me and I jotted it down on a pad of paper that had been left by the telephone. “I’ll look there. Don’t worry, Florence. I’m going to find her.”

“Of course.”

Once I disconnected, I tore the paper off. “Can you give me directions to the library, ma’am?”

“Why…yes.” She no longer sounded so stunned and offered easy directions—it was just two blocks away.

I jotted down enough that I’d be able to find my way and then put the paper in my pocket.

“Can I offer you some advice?” I asked.

She blinked. “Of course, Mr. Jackson.”

“If you’ve got family or friends someplace a little farther away from here, you might want to go there,” I said. Trying to soften the words with a smile, I gestured to the television she had left playing in the living room. We could hear the news. “Hopefully this will blow over. But you never know…it could be like what happened in New York last year.”

Her face went pale. “Surely you’re not serious?”

“I’m just being cautious. That’s why I’m trying to find Maya. Florence is worried about her.”

“Florence…” Jean licked her lips, her eyes brightening. “That was Florence Wood, wasn’t it? My word. The young woman renting my apartment is friends with movie stars.”

Shit, this wasn’t going well.

I said her name with more intensity than needed, but it got her to look back at me. “Do you have family you can go stay with?”

She patted her hair. “Well, I’ve got a sister in San Diego. But it’s such a long drive…”

“And you’ll be safe.” Pulling out my wallet, I fished a few bills out. “Here…let me give you some cash to help with gas and such. I’ll stay until you’re packed, just to make sure you’re safe.”

She packed quicker than anything I’d ever seen, taking the fifty dollars like it was pure gold.

In less than fifteen minutes, she was gone, and I leaned against my car for a minute to catch a breath.

“Alright, now to find this damn library.”