Summer of Love - Carly Phillips Page 0,81

years right before and after Faith had run away and she wanted to know what he’d found out. Sure enough, the guy in custody in Boston who’d been following Sam was connected to the mob. The son of a man who’d been involved in the hijacking of the Baldwin’s trucks years before. Zoe was certain Uncle Russ had hired the man to stalk Sam. Anger, fury and pain for Ryan all surged through her.

Uncle Russ had a lot of explaining to do, and Zoe knew it would take all of her restraint to allow Ryan to deal with his uncle without her going after him on her own.

They entered Baldwin’s from an underground parking structure and took the elevator to the main floor. Since they hadn’t yet taken Sam on her promised shopping trip, this was Zoe’s first excursion into one of their stores, and she was impressed with the upscale establishment.

They made their way to a bank of private elevators that led to the office level, and once there, Ryan asked to see his uncle. He was granted immediate access, and Zoe followed him down a long hall to a corner office. He knocked once and walked inside.

Since Russ’s secretary had called ahead, the other man was standing when they entered. “Well, this is a nice surprise.” His gaze shifted from his nephew to Zoe. “To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?”

Zoe merely waited.

Ryan shut the door behind him. “It’s time we talk.”

She heard the strain in his voice, and her heart went out to him, but all she could do was stand there and listen.

“I always have time for you, but we talk all the time. Why the visit to my office?” Russ glanced from the closed door to his nephew’s severe expression and grew suddenly wary, shuffling papers on the desk for no apparent reason.

When Ryan didn’t answer right away, Uncle Russ gestured to the chairs circling his desk. “Shall we sit?”

“I’d rather stand.” Ryan rolled his shoulders and Zoe could only imagine the tension sitting upon them. “You know, when Zoe told me she thought you had an unusual interest in the keys around Sam’s neck, I told her she was crazy.”

Maybe it was Zoe’s imagination, but she thought the older man lost some of his ruddy complexion, paling at Ryan’s words as he eyed Zoe with barely concealed anger before shifting his gaze back to his nephew.

“Even when I agreed to look into the keys, I was humoring her. I figured best-case scenario, Sam finds out a little more about her mother, and worst case, I waste an afternoon. Not once did I believe you’d been involved in Faith’s disappearance. Not you, the man who’d undertaken his own investigation to find her.” His voice rose with all the hurt, anger and betrayal he must be feeling.

Zoe sensed the power behind Ryan’s words. Her stomach jumped with equal doses of anticipation about what his uncle would admit to, and empathy for Ryan’s obvious pain.

“And what exactly did you find?” Russ asked, suddenly more relaxed.

Zoe felt certain the man figured Ryan’s fishing expedition had been as fruitless as his own. Ryan’s initial indignation no longer threatened the older man, but he would soon find out he was deluded, she thought.

“The first thing I discovered was that Zoe’s hunch about you was correct. You’d visited the bus station a few hours before we did. So I wondered, what in the world could you be looking for?”

“Ryan, surely you know I’ve always had your best interests at heart.”

“I thought so. Up until our search led us to the contents of Faith’s locker.”

“That’s impossible!” His uncle propelled himself forward, righteous certainty in his voice. “They told me there was nothing to be found.”

“Unless you know the right questions to ask,” Zoe said, unable to contain her pride in Ryan.

“It doesn’t matter how we found Faith’s things,” Ryan said, stepping between them. “What matters is that she left behind a note documenting everything that led up to her running away.”

Uncle Russ walked to his side of the desk and lowered himself into his large, leather chair. “You can’t possibly believe the ravings of a seventeen-year-old drug addict.” That he was no longer eye to eye with Ryan, but gripping the armrests hard, gave away the measure of his fear.

“You wouldn’t look so worried right now unless you knew for sure Faith’s words were more than ravings.”

“That’s nonsense,” his uncle said in return.

A muscle ticked in Ryan’s jaw. “Still