Summer Lovin'

Chapter Eleven

FOR SOMEONE WHO HADN'T slept well, Zoe awoke early, and she headed straight to the kitchen to brew some strong coffee. As she puttered around and set up the coffeemaker, she tried to be quiet so as not to wake Ryan and Sam.

Morning sunlight set Ryan's apartment aglow, highlighting the new-looking chrome appliances and dark wood cabinetry. Zoe loved his apartment, which had all the warmth of the man himself and the same amount of mystery. Like just what did he keep in the cabinet above the toaster oven, anyway? Glasses? Plates? Canned goods? And why did she care?

Because wondering about his kitchen helped take her mind off her real problem. How did she tell Ryan about her hunch that his only ally in his entire family might have an agenda where Sam was concerned? Better yet, how did she make him believe her with no proof to back up her claim? Even her twin had doubts.

Zoe wrapped her hand around her coffee cup and took a sip of the hot brew.

"Someone's up early," Ryan said as he strode into the kitchen and headed straight for the coffee. His hair was still messed from sleep and he wore only a pair of jeans slung low on his hips, zipped, but not buttoned.

"I couldn't sleep."

And was it any wonder? Between her worries about Sam, her distrust of Uncle Russ and her need for Ryan, her head spun with too many thoughts and concerns. She couldn't turn to Ryan for comfort because, despite their night together, they both agreed it wasn't smart to share a bed again with Sam so close by. So for now it was hands off, but she couldn't tear her gaze away from him and the body she'd already learned so well.

He joined her at the table, straddling the chair from behind. "What's wrong besides all the obvious things?" he asked.

Somehow she managed to laugh. "Would you believe me if I said everything's fine?"

One side of his mouth lifted in a half grin. "No."

"I miss you," she said, her voice low and husky, her meaning obvious.

He reached out and toyed with the lapel of her robe, his fingers dipping below the thin fabric to tease her skin with soft circular caresses. "I miss you, too."

She leaned forward. He followed until their foreheads touched and their lips were mere inches apart. She sensed his warmth and heat and smelled his musky, morning scent.

They remained connected that way for a long silent moment, so innocent and yet so very sensual. Her heart sped up in her chest and her pulse pounded in her throat.

Suddenly his lips brushed hers and lingered, until she tasted sweetness, longing and temptation.

"Talk to me," he urged and sat back, before Sam could walk in and catch them.

She sighed, but knew he was right. Just as she knew she had no choice but to talk about what was on her mind. Drawing a deep breath, she dove right in. "Did you notice anything strange about your uncle's interest in Sam's necklace?"

His back and shoulders stiffened. His completely casual stance, and the sense of happiness she'd briefly sensed, fled. "He tried to make her feel welcome by buying her a gift."

"A necklace."

Ryan raised an eyebrow. "So?"

"He seemed very curious about the one she already wears," Zoe said. So much for gently leading him to the subject. Well nobody had ever praised her for her tact or delicate way of phrasing things, she thought.

Ryan moved his head from side to side, stretching his suddenly tense muscles. In seconds flat, he'd gone from surprisingly relaxed considering the episode last night, to wound tight.

He just couldn't believe Zoe could accuse Uncle Russ of anything underhanded. "Those old keys are odd looking. Anyone in their right mind would ask about them," he said, hating he had to defend his uncle to the woman he loved.

Loved?

He paused in shock. Long enough to think and let emotion wash over him. Long enough to realize he did love her. The feelings had been growing for a while, he now knew, building the more he got to know and admire her.

But he couldn't deal with that primal emotion right now, not when she was questioning the one stable thing in his family life.

Damn, why couldn't one thing in his life be easy right now?

"Sure, anyone might ask about the keys- once," Zoe said, interrupting his thoughts. "He asked about them once and Sam answered. Then he bought her a necklace that she refused to take, but he didn't leave well enough alone. He pushed. He offered to put those keys away for safekeeping. It was like he wanted to get his hands on them." Zoe pulled her robe tighter.

"Uncle Russ was being his usual solicitous, kind self." Ryan rose and picked up his cold coffee and poured it into the sink. "You're reaching. I don't know what you have against Uncle Russ, but he has nothing but my best interest at heart. Which means he has Sam's best interest at heart too. God, he's the only one I can turn to."

"I know." Zoe came up behind him, wrapping her arms around his waist. "That's what makes this so hard." She exhaled and he felt her breath warm against his back. "But Ryan, how do you explain what the guy said to you last night? That you should find the key to the mystery?"

"For God's sake, it's an expression!"

"It's too much of a coincidence," she insisted.

He blinked, everything inside him rejecting the notion because it would rip apart the foundation of the only security he'd had. Uncle Russ, who'd come to all his graduation ceremonies, who'd never missed a birthday, who called him the son he never had.

"The last thing I want to do is upset you." She hugged him tight. "But if I agree to put Uncle Russ and any agenda I might imagine aside, would you do something for me?"

"What?" he asked.

She urged him around until he faced her. "Just look into the keys. We'll talk to Sam, we'll get a good look at them and we'll see for ourselves if we can figure out what they lead to. How could that hurt anything?"

Ryan didn't buy her wide green-eyed stare for a minute. She wanted to find out if his uncle somehow had a vested interest in those keys. Still he had to admit, Zoe had gotten him curious and if his uncle was as innocent as he believed, why not see if they could figure out what Faith had used the keys for? Why she'd kept them and passed them on to her daughter.

"I think it could be a way for Sam to learn more about her mother," he said, thinking Zoe's idea through.

Zoe nodded. "It's a long shot that we'll ever know the truth about her necklace, but at least we'll have looked into the last link to your sister."

"I can live with that," he told her.

She smiled, obviously happy with his agreement. At least one of them was. Now that she'd raised the specter of his uncle's odd behavior, her notion lingered in his mind. He only hoped Sam's keys held answers that put her suspicions about his uncle to rest.

JUST AS ZOE HAD THOUGHT, once they explained to Sam that the keys might provide more insight into her mother, she willingly handed them over to Zoe. All it took was a cursory examination for Zoe to discover the words Wayham Bus Depot, which it turned out was located in a small town about twenty minutes from Ryan's family home.

The big question was what to do with Sam, since neither Ryan nor Zoe wanted to take the teenager along and subject her to potential disappointment or upset if the keys turned out to be a dead end or something disturbing like a drug stash. There was also the fact that someone did want something from Sam and she couldn't be left alone for even a second.

Fate intervened in the form of Ryan's mother. To their surprise, she called to ask if she could spend time alone with Faith's daughter. Zoe's gut instinct was to rebel against the notion, but in her heart she understood that this woman was Sam's grandmother and any form of bonding was best for all involved, especially Sam. The teenager knew little about her mother's life growing up. After Ryan gave his mother a stern lecture, the older woman agreed to choose her words carefully when she spoke to Sam about her mother.

With luck, Vivian could help Sam feel a part of this family and make her feel more grounded when it came to her past. With luck, Zoe thought, still not completely trusting any members of the Baldwin family other than Ryan.

It took some convincing to get Sam to go back to the Baldwins' without Zoe and Ryan tagging along, but Ryan promised her she could pick her favorite food for dinner and then during the week go shopping at Baldwin's.

Zoe suspected it was the shopping bribe that did the trick, and they dropped Sam off with her grandmother along with strict orders: if asked, she was to say that Ryan and Zoe were off spending time together. Nothing more, not to anyone.

Ryan remained silent during the ride until Zoe couldn't take being frozen out anymore. "I'm sorry," she said at last.

One hand on the wheel, he briefly turned toward her. "For?"

That was a good question, Zoe thought. For causing distrust and upheaval in his life? For not just handing Sam over like she was a possession?

"For accusing your uncle," she said, addressing only one of the many issues between them.

He shrugged. "Just because he's been good to me doesn't mean he's the easiest person to know or like. I hope this little trip will convince you that his interest in Sam is genuine."

But from his tight jaw and steely expression, she didn't believe him. She wondered if his internal turmoil had anything to do with the fear that perhaps she was on to something with his uncle, then tossed that notion aside. In his mind, blood ties ran deep, loyalty ran even deeper and his uncle had been his only friend in a conflicted upbringing.

"How much longer till we get there?" she asked, glancing at the dashboard clock.

"About ten minutes. We have time. So tell me something."

She was happy to have conversation. "What do you want to know?"

"More about you. I know all about your family life, but I don't know that much about you."

"I'm an open book."

He raised an eyebrow at that. "Ha."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Just that you talk this nice game about openness and being yourself, yet I don't know much about you. Who are your friends outside of your family?"

She opened her mouth in surprise. "Are you insinuating I don't have friends?"

"I didn't meet any besides family while I stayed with you."

"My work kept me very busy and away from home. I have agency friends I left behind and some I see for drinks every once in a while," she said, feeling extremely defensive. "What about you? I haven't noticed a whole lot of messages from guys asking you to go to a Red Sox game or out for a beer. Or is it that you're too good for a cold brew?"

He burst out laughing. "Now that's the Zoe I love. Get defensive, throw it back in my face. I admit to not having much of a social life. Lawyers work long hours and we socialize with other attorneys. A quick drink with one of my partners before heading home or a date with someone if the mood strikes."

A date. "Anybody important in your life?" She couldn't help but ask, though she was shocked that as close as they'd been, neither had opened up much before now.

For someone who prided herself on her independence, she was appalled at how her palms grew damp and her stomach knotted as she waited for his reply.

He pulled off at the exit and stopped at a red light. Turning, he faced her. "No, Zoe. Nobody else important."

She met his gaze. Heat and something much more intense passed between them until a car honked, breaking the moment. They glanced up to see the light had turned green and Ryan stepped on the gas.

She exhaled a long, slow breath.

"How about you? Anybody serious in your life?" he asked. "I assume by your family's reaction to your turning thirty and still being single that the answer is no, but a mystery woman like you could be hiding a secret or two." His lips twitched in amusement.

She shook her head. "Nobody serious. In fact, my last relationship was brief and more a distraction from boredom than anything else."

She and Marco, the guy who'd been assigned to guard her at the safe house had generated serious physical sparks and had helped pass some long, lonely hours by the end of her stay there. But nothing emotional had ever come of it. Nothing emotional ever did.

Until now, she thought, staring at Ryan's satisfied expression and handsome profile. He caused butterflies to ripple around her insides, emotions she ought to peg as adolescent and silly, yet everything about her feelings for Ryan were completely adult in nature.

And way too serious.

He drummed his fingers on the wheel and her gaze fell to his strong hands and what she knew to be a deft touch capable of arousing inexplicable pleasure.

"So not much time to socialize, not many close friends, and no serious relationships at the moment. We have more in common than you'd think, wouldn't you say?"

She murmured a noncommittal reply, hoping his question was a rhetorical one.

Before they could discuss anything else, the bus station loomed before them. He pulled into a parking space in a large lot and suddenly all the things they had in common took a back seat to those that pulled them apart.

RYAN STRODE INTO THE TERMINAL, Sam's keys in his pocket. Though it wasn't easy, he tried to push aside all that they'd discussed during their trip here. His questions during the car ride were so obviously meant to get her to think more about them that they were laughably transparent. Yet she still fought the notion. Considering all that was going on at the moment, he welcomed the time to bring her around.

He refused to contemplate the possibility that she wouldn't recognize their compatibility or the depth of her feelings for him. Nobody, not even this stubborn woman, would opt to be alone forever.

At least he hoped not or he was doomed to the same fate.

He approached the customer-service counter and the grumpy-looking man seated behind it. "Hi, there."

The man took his time lifting his gaze from the crossword puzzle on his desk. "Yeah."

Ryan placed Sam's key on the counter. "Does this look familiar to you?"

Yawning, he reached for the key. "Looks old, but yeah it's one of ours."

"Can you tell me who this locker number is registered to today?" Ryan asked.

The man shook his head. "No. None of your business."

Zoe slipped up beside him and leaned forward on her elbows. "We'd just like to know if Faith Baldwin's name is still on locker 811."

"Did you say 811?" His voice perked up suddenly.

"Yes. It's on the key if you'd bothered to- Ooomph," Ryan grunted as Zoe nudged him in the ribs.

"Does that number sound familiar to you?" she asked sweetly.

"Another man was here asking about that locker number around lunchtime."

Ryan took the man's words like a punch in the stomach.

"Can you describe him?" Zoe asked before Ryan had had a chance to catch his breath.

"Tall, gray hair, wearing a suit." He rolled his eyes. "He looked like any businessman with money who comes through here every day. What do you people want from me, anyway?"

Zoe patted his hand reassuringly. "You're doing just fine. Now can you tell us if you keep old paperwork on file from people who've rented lockers in the past?"

"I'll tell you what I told the other guy. He said it could have been rented as long as seventeen years ago, and that's too long a time for us to keep anything we might have found in that locker."

The description along with the time frame cemented the fact that Uncle Russ had been here asking questions about Sam's keys. He was involved in something and had an agenda, just as Zoe had thought. Disappointment churned in Ryan's gut, but he reminded himself that he didn't know why his uncle had interest in the keys. Maybe there was a plausible explanation.

"What did the gentleman say to that?"

"Stormed off, angry."

Now that sounded like his uncle when he didn't get his way, Ryan thought.

Zoe shook her long hair so it fell onto the counter, an obvious attempt to keep the clerk's attention. "Well I'm a little more patient and I'd like to know if you have any old records we might be able to peek at."

The other man looked into her green eyes, which she fluttered ever so nicely, and reached down to his keyboard. "We're computerized now. Didn't used to be. So things aren't always accurate. Let's see. Nope. We only go back five years, then we wipe the files clean. Of course there's a storage room with old records. It's a dusty old place that nobody likes to go into."

"Yes!" Zoe said.

Ryan felt the excitement ripple through her.

"And if I were to make it worth your while, would you please let us into that old storage room?" she asked. "You see, our sister took that locker after she ran away all those years ago, and if there's any way of tracing her whereabouts, even from that long ago, we'd be so grateful."

The man looked from Ryan to Zoe, then down to the counter, where Ryan realized Zoe was slipping a twenty-dollar bill his way.

The guy snatched the cash and gestured with a nod of his head. "This way."

He led them down a long hall to a back room. Unlocking the door, he let them inside. "You won't be disturbed. Nobody wants to go back to the archives because of the dust," he said laughing.

"And you didn't tell the other man about this room?" Zoe asked.

The guy shook his head. "He didn't ask about it."

Ryan stifled a laugh because his uncle's temper and impulsive nature had worked against him, whereas Zoe's patience and smarts, not to mention feminine wiles, had gotten them one step farther.

Zoe turned back to the other man. "By the way, what happens to the old contents of a locker?"

"We try to contact the owner and if nobody shows up for it, it goes into lost and found for a while. Then we give the stuff away to shelters or dump it if it's garbage. If you're lucky, somebody will have written information down on the card that was filled out when the locker was paid for. Good luck," he said and shut the door behind him.

Ryan took in the old cardboard filing boxes piled one on top of the other all around and groaned. "Well, might as well get started," he muttered and started walking toward the back of the room.

"Ryan, wait."

He turned to see Zoe lingering near the door. "What is it?"

She shrugged. "I don't know. I'm sorry, maybe? I know I said it before, but I am. I'm sorry that my hunch was right. I'm sorry that your uncle was here looking for something that involved your sister and didn't tell you about it."

"Maybe he had his reasons." He could only hope.

She nodded, obviously not wanting to pick a fight on this subject. "What month and year did Faith run away?" she asked instead.

"March 1988."

"At least that's a start. Now we just have to pray these boxes are in some sort of chronological order." She started looking at one end, then walked to another section, then another.

He wanted to help her. But now he had something to say first. "Zoe?"

She peeked her head up above one of the boxes. "Yeah?"

He met her gaze. "Thanks for not saying I told you so."

She grinned and got back to work.

It felt like ages before they'd narrowed things down enough to start digging through a select group of filing cartons. Even so, it took hours to sort through the individual boxes and papers.

The man hadn't been kidding about the mess. Zoe's eyes were tearing and her nose was running from all the rising dust that flew around each time they touched something that hadn't been disturbed in years.

"Oh my God! I found something," Ryan suddenly said, clearly stunned.

Zoe left her box and scrambled over to where he sat holding an old, yellowed paper. "What is it?"

"The card Faith filled out when she rented the box. It's dated March 15, 1988."

"Let me see." His hands shook and she eased the paper out of his grasp. She scanned the faded page and faint handwriting. There were the basic questions, but the answers didn't mean anything to Zoe. "This isn't your parents' current address."

"You're right. It belongs to a good friend of Faith's. Patty Wheaton was one of Faith's best friends. She was a couple of years older than Faith. Of course my parents disapproved of their friendship because Patty was a little fast, wore too much makeup and liked to have fun more than she liked to study."

"Hmm." Zoe narrowed her gaze. "I'm sure you followed up with Patty when you were looking for Faith."

"She was one of the few people my parents checked with right after Faith went missing. Patty said she hadn't heard from her. The P.I. I hired talked with her again, but she insisted Faith hadn't been in contact with her since she'd run away."

Zoe sighed, hearing the defeat in his voice.

He glanced at the card again. "This isn't my parents' phone number either."

"It's probably Patty's. Is it possible she still lives in the same place?" Zoe asked.

Ryan shook his head. "Doubtful. But her mother would know where she is and her parents are still local."

"It's worth a shot. We can talk to her again. See if anything from the locker ended up with her."

"Who'd keep old stuff from a friend who died years ago?" The edge in his tone spoke of his frustration.

Zoe slapped her hand on his knee. "I won't let you sound defeated before we know anything for sure." She rose and stood over him, then sat straddling him with her thighs. She felt his body heat penetrating between her legs and liquid desire pulsing through her. But her own feelings weren't what counted now.

Ryan's emotions were in turmoil, his past and present coming together in a painful way, and she wanted to be there for him as he worked his way through it. For a woman who'd always been independent, floating through life in a vacuum that only included her family, this sudden, deep need to care for another person took her off guard. Yet it was her feelings for Ryan that guided her every move right now.

She leaned forward and briefly touched her lips to his, lingering long enough to taste him and let the sensation of caring for him overwhelm her. Only then did she sit back on her heels. "We'll follow this trail as far as we can, okay?"

A smile tugged at his mouth. "We?"

"Have I abandoned you yet?" She immediately realized the depth of her question and didn't want him to press her any further. So she held out her hand and pulled him to his feet. "At the very least, we're one step ahead of your uncle, so we can get on this first thing in the morning."

He nodded. "I'd just like some answers." His gaze never left hers- as if he were telling her he knew something deep existed between them and he wanted her to acknowledge it too.

She feared she couldn't put off facing that issue much longer.