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."

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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 info rmation 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.




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