When they arrived back at Fitzgerald Bay police station and entered the building, Douglas Fitzgerald clapped Ryan on the back. “Glad you’re here in one piece, brother.” Douglas turned his sharped-eyed gaze to Meghan. “Miss Henry, no worse for the wear, I see.”
She managed a smile and picked a shard of glass from her hair. “A little shaken.”
Douglas nodded. “Comes with the territory.”
“News?” Ryan asked.
“Lots of supposed sightings of Christina Hennessy and the little girl. California, Florida, downtown Boston. We’re following the leads as best we can.”
“We have a lead, too,” Ryan stated. Meghan and Douglas followed him into his office.
“Christina’s great aunt has a car,” Meghan explained.
Douglas gave a nod of acknowledgment then turned to watch his brother. Meghan did, too. Her pulse quickened.
Ryan’s handsome face was a study in concentration. His blue eyes intent on his task. He punched the keys on his keyboard, his mouth set in a grim line. Nothing that had just happened seemed to affect him. All business, no worry. No
A moment later he turned the monitor so they could see the document on the screen. “A red 1996 Seville Cadillac. License number TLX 596.”
“Sweet,” Douglas said. “I’ll get a BOLO out on it ASAP.”
After his brother exited, Ryan rose and came around the desk. “You should go home now and rest. You look like you’re about to fall over.”
She shook her head, hating the way the world seemed to have shifted. She was tired and a little light-headed, but her pride wouldn’t let her admit as much to him. If he could keep going, so could she. “No way. I’m staying the course on this.”
“Then you at least need to eat. Keep up your strength.”
“Only if you join me.” She wasn’t letting him out of her sight. He’d probably take off on a lead while she had her face buried in a plate of spaghetti. Which sounded really good. Her tummy rumbled. Ryan’s soft laugh made her cheeks burn.
He brushed away a stray strand of hair from her face. “I could use some refueling, too.”
A shiver of awareness shimmied down her spine at the slight touch of his warm skin. The sensation was unexpected and pleasant and a bit frightening.
Ryan gestured for her to lead the way out of the office. Needing some distance to collect herself and cool the attraction sizzling in her veins, she walked out of the station, careful to keep an arm’s length between them as they headed down the street to the Sugar Plum Cafe and Inn. The quaint restaurant was owned by Victoria Evans, soon to be Mrs. Owen Fitzgerald, and looked like something out of a Norman Rockwell painting.
White porch with lattice railing, rocking chairs filled with content patrons sipping iced tea beneath hanging baskets teeming with colorful early summer blooms. Meghan sighed, sounding a bit wistful even to her own ears. In fact, the whole of Fitzgerald Bay was straight from Rockwell’s imagination, or so Meghan theorized.
Her own rented cottage by the sea was something from a fairy tale. Quaint and cozy were words that sprang to mind.
She didn’t look forward to leaving her cottage or Fitzgerald Bay. But she would eventually have to return to Boston and the life she’d had before her cousin’s murder. She didn’t belong in Fitzgerald Bay. No matter how much she wished she did.
They entered the wide foyer of the Sugar Plum with its quarter-sawn oak woodwork and glass pastry case full of delicious-looking treats that made Meghan’s mouth water. And added inches to her waist just by being in the same vicinity.
Victoria Evans descended the antique staircase leading up to the guests’ rooms. Her heeled shoes made no sound on the floral runner. Her anxious gaze searched their faces. “Did you find Georgina?”
“Not yet,” Ryan said.
Disappointment and worry knitted her brows and clouded her eyes.
“But we have more clues to follow,” Meghan stated, wishing the clues would hurry up and bear fruit.
Victoria nodded. “This is so stressful for everyone.” She turned her attention to Ryan. “Owen feels just awful for keeping his father’s secret from you.”
Ryan made a slight scoffing noise in his throat. “I’m sure Owen will get over his guilt quick enough.”
Victoria’s eyebrows dipped. “I know how hard hearing the truth was for you and your siblings. You have to understand Owen was dealing with his own issues, too.”
Meghan knew Victoria referred to the daughter she’d kept hidden from the Fitzgeralds for nine years.
Ryan’s jaw tightened but he didn’t respond.
Feeling the need to diffuse the uncomfortable situation, Meghan said, “We’d like a table, if one’s available.”
Victoria motioned to the hostess. “Charlotte will seat you.”
They nodded their thanks and followed the older woman to a table in the corner. Dusk was fast closing in. The setting sun hung low on the horizon, a brilliant burst of orange and gold against a backdrop of blue sky and water.
After they’d perused the menu and ordered, Meghan eyed Ryan warily. He sat angled toward the window, his face in profile, his blue eyes staring intently at the ocean beyond the shoreline.
The man was a paradox, at times gruff and domineering. Yet there was a tender, humble side that occasionally showed itself. She wasn’t sure what to make of him. Or what to think. He was so different from her ex-husband on every level. She was attracted, no question. Respect and admiration for Ryan had embedded themselves firmly in her mind and heart. Empathy made her want to reach out to him. Fear of what he could do to her heart kept her still.
Growing uncomfortable with the silence and giving in to the urge to draw him out of the hurt she knew had to be eating at him, she ventured, “I appreciate how hard you’re working to find Georgina and bring my cousin’s murderer to justice.”
His gaze slid to her. “I’m doing my job.”
She wasn’t buying his act. This had become personal for him just as it was for her. “True, but considering the circumstances, you’re doing your job well.”
He scoffed. “We’ll see.”
“I’m sure your father appreciates it, too.”
“I don’t want to talk about my father,” he said, his voice tight with anger.
“I don’t blame you for your anger. I’m angry, too. One would think the chief of police would have more honor and integrity.”
Ryan’s gaze snapped to her face. He opened his mouth then clamped his teeth together so hard she heard the crack and wondered how he didn’t break a tooth. No doubt he reflexively wanted to defend his father.
Unaccountably, she felt badly for Ryan that he couldn’t. His father’s actions were indefensible. Seeds of hostility and resentment burrowed in, trying to find moist ground.
Aiden Fitzgerald had had a hand in Meghan’s cousin’s death, even if he hadn’t struck her with the rock that delivered the fatal blow. Olivia had gone to him for help and he’d turned her away. Left her to fend for herself because he’d been too spineless to face the consequences of his long-ago actions. Not to mention his candidacy for mayor.
God’s word said she needed to forgive those who hurt her. She knew the passage by heart. Had resisted the instruction for so many years. Her heart throbbed as conviction dug deep, clawing at old wounds she’d hoped had healed over.
But letting into her heart even the tiniest bit of bitterness scraped at the scars left on her soul by her ex- husband’s abuse, reminding her of the battle she’d faced and overcome.
The road to forgiveness was long and narrow and fraught with thorns. But, oh so freeing.
Her giving over to anger and fueling Ryan’s hurt and rage only made her part of the problem not part of the solution. She needed to be Ryan’s help just as Nurse Justine had been for her that day in the hospital when she’d
