"Ari and I were twins and sometimes we didn't want each other around," she said, laughing.

"That's what made that last night so strange. But I didn't know it at the time. She called me into her room and I hung out with her awhile. She paced around the room, talking quickly. I don't know if she was high at the time or completely lucid and just excited, knowing she planned to run away the next day."

He would never know, but Zoe wasn't about to say so aloud.

"The only thing I really remember was that she kept talking to me about staying true to myself. Being myself. Doing what I wanted with my life and not what was expected of me."

"She cared."

He swallowed hard, his eyes damp, visibly shaken by the memories. "It was probably the only time she showed it. The rest of my memories revolve around her fights with my parents, slamming doors to get away from them."

"Like mother like daughter." Zoe shook her head. "But it's typical teenage behavior. We expect it."

"My parents didn't." His fist clenched at his side. "Whoever told them to expect perfection from children had definitely steered them wrong," he muttered.

"What happened the morning Faith left?"

"I can answer that."

Zoe stiffened as Uncle Russ, a man she'd come to view as an intruder, walked back into the room. She wanted time alone with Ryan and he'd taken that from her.

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Zoe wondered what else Ryan's family would take away.

Chapter Eight

ZOE WAITED FOR RYAN'S UNCLE to speak. The muscles in the back of her neck hurt from nerves and stress and she rolled her head from side to side, trying to ease the tension.

"Faith liked to stir things up," Russ said at last. "She had obviously planned to run away because she knew I kept petty cash in my briefcase and she stole that money before she took off."

"From the business?" Zoe asked, surprised any teenager would take that kind of risk.

Russ shook his head. "She stole money from the home office, actually."

"Uncle Russ lives in a gatehouse on the property," Ryan explained. "He and my father have an office there. Wasn't that also during the days when there were mob-related truck hijackings?" Ryan asked his uncle. "I remember Dad talking about those days when J.T. was ready to come into the business."

His uncle nodded slowly. "Yes, yes. Those were chaotic times in every sense of the word," he said.

"And why is it you never tried to find Faith?" she asked, turning the subject back to what was important. She met the older man's gaze and waited for an answer.

He cleared his throat. "I beg to differ, young lady. I did try to find my niece. Unfortunately her trail grew cold rather quickly."

Ryan rose from his seat. "Uncle Russ is my main ally and supporter. I've seen his paperwork and the detective I hired worked off of any trail he'd managed to find."

Zoe glanced at the older man. "Speaking of trails, did you find anything in her room?"

"Beyond all those candles, stuffed animals, magazines and books?" He shook his head laughing softly. "She's obviously been treated well."

"Here," Zoe reminded him. "She's been treated well here." She pointed to the floor of her home. "Before that it was the foster-care shuffle and nobody bought her a damn thing unless she absolutely needed it."

Ryan placed a calming hand on her arm. "Let's try to hold it together until she comes home, okay?"

Zoe nodded. Another half an hour passed during which she thought she'd go mad, mostly from the feeling that Ryan's uncle was watching her and her actions around his nephew. She hated being under a microscope and this man made studying and examining an art form.

Ryan and his uncle spoke in hushed tones in the corner of the family room, yet every so often she'd catch Ryan's compelling gaze on her and she'd heat up, knowing they still had unspoken feelings and desires between them.

Zoe was lying on the couch nearby with one arm covering her eyes when the phone finally rang. She jumped up and grabbed the receiver. "Hello?"

"Hello, this is Francesca at the spa. I think I have someone here you might be looking for," the woman said in a lowered voice.

Zoe swallowed hard, her relief so profound her legs began to shake. "How long has Sam been there?"

"I found her outside the entrance this morning and she followed me inside. She said she was wondering if I could fit her in for a manicure."

She'd been right next door the entire time? Good Lord.

Nobody had thought to check the spa because since they'd opened, Sam had never once shown an interest in beauty treatments of any kind. Manicures, pedicures and facials weren't her thing, she'd often said. Sam was more of a tomboy, so looking for her at the spa had never dawned on any of them who knew her well.

So much still didn't make sense. Even if Sam had changed her mind about more girlie things, why not just ask Elena for an appointment? Why sneak out the window for something so innocent? Especially the morning after she'd received devastating news.

Zoe shook her head. There was much more going on, of that Zoe was certain. "What happened next?" she asked Francesca.

"I told her I was booked for the early appointment, but if she didn't mind waiting an hour or so I could fit her in. She sat and watched me most of the morning. But just now, when I said I needed to check on Elena and see why she hadn't come in today, she freaked out. She begged me not to call and it was obvious something was going on. She thinks I'm in the ladies' room now."

"Keep her there for me. I'll be right over. And thank you so much for calling."

Zoe exhaled a huge breath of air.

"Well?" Ryan stood towering over her.

"She's at the spa and please don't ask why we didn't realize it before now. I don't have time to explain."

"Thank God," he muttered. "Thank God."

She wanted to hug him and join in his relief, but she had to stay focused on Sam. Zoe grabbed a pad and jotted down a bunch of cell-phone numbers. "Please call my parents, Quinn and Ari, and Connor, with the news." She handed the pad to Ryan.

"Sure thing."

"I'm going next door to get her. And Ryan?"

"Yes?" He gazed at her with those gorgeous brown eyes.

Zoe paused, knowing her next words would sound cruel. She truly wasn't looking to hurt Ryan; she just wanted to look out for Sam. "Could you…could you not be here when we get back? I promise to call you this afternoon. Just let me get Sam here and talk— "




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