Ryan tiptoed over to the trunk to examine the scrapbooks and photos Bailey had been looking through, but they were gone. He lifted up quickly and shifted his gaze around the room.
“Son of a bitch,” he whispered. He walked into his bedroom and turned on his laptop. Why the hell would someone steal photo albums and scrapbooks?
He sat at his desk and started his search. There had to be something online about Baby Bailey.
For hours, Ryan searched for information. He read everything he could find online, even if it was just a repeat of the same information. Most of the articles were pretty much the same, and Patrick Morton wasn’t mentioned in any of them. They all focused on adorable Baby Bailey and how she was left in the snow until she was found by these pillars of society. But there was more to the story, obviously.
Ryan made a point to write down everything he thought he needed to research: the officers’ names, the names of every neighbor that had been interviewed, the names of the other relatives, and every address mentioned, including her parents’ old address.
Hours later, he looked out the window at the sun peeking through and yawned. He spent all night looking this shit up. He turned to the clock, then reached for his phone and called Mae.
“Hey, morning,” he said when she answered.
“It’s a little early for you, isn’t it? Don’t rock stars sleep in?”
He chuckled. “Actually, we never go to bed.”
“Oh, right,” she said, and he heard the smile in her voice.
“I know Bay was supposed to come back to work this morning, but she won’t be in.”
“Why are you calling in for Bailey?”
“She hurt herself yesterday, and I had to take her to the emergency room.”
“Oh shit, is she okay? Do I need to come over? Where is she? Are you at her apartment?”
“No, her mom’s house. I didn’t want to leave her alone in her apartment. It’s not bad, but she has stitches in the bottom of her foot. She should stay horizontal for another day.”
“So what the hell happened?”
“There’s no story. She stepped on some glass. No biggie.”
“Okay, I’ll call Christine to cover her shift. Tell her I’ll bring her some lunch later.”
“Don’t forget mine.”
“What makes you think I’m bringing you food?” Again he heard the smile.
“Hey, I think Bailey’s going to need some more time off. Do you think you can handle the shop a little bit longer if need be?”
“Why?”
“She found some information about her mom and dad and wants to take a trip out to Wisconsin. It shouldn’t be more than a couple of days.”
Mae was silent for a moment, then said, “Why are you telling me this?”
“I’m just trying to give you a heads-up. Not a big deal, Mae, but I thought I’d go ahead and reserve the airline tickets.”
“Fine, but it’s better if she goes during the week. We’ve been busy as hell on the weekends.”
“Yeah, that works better for me, too. Thanks. I’ll see you at lunch.”
“Okay, call me if she needs anything.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
“I just can’t explain it,” Bailey said. “It makes no sense.”
“I agree, but it’s becoming clear someone is either looking for the same information we’re looking for, or they’re trying to stop you from looking further.” Ryan shrugged. “There’s no other reason for someone to break into the house and steal a bunch of photo albums and scrapbooks.”
After a non-stop flight to Wisconsin, they checked into a hotel. And, after a lengthy argument, they decided to share a room with two queen-size beds. Ryan would rather face a firing squad than have to sleep in a room with her and not be able to touch her.
Of course, to Bailey, two rooms was a huge waste of money, and he was pretty sure she didn’t want to be alone. Not that she would admit this to him. Ryan would’ve paid every dollar in his bank account for some gravity or perspective, but there was none to be had because she also wouldn’t openly admit sleeping in the same room with him would be uncomfortable after what happened on his boat.
He could’ve settled the argument faster if he’d just told her he might want to bring someone to his room later, but he didn’t know how she’d feel about that, and he didn’t want to hurt her. Not that it would. He honestly didn’t think she cared, but…he cared, and that was enough.
“Where are we starting?” Bailey asked when they were settled in and unpacked.
“You should start by Googling Baby Bailey and reading all the online articles,” he said, nodding toward her laptop. “Most of the articles from the stolen scrapbooks are available online.”
She stared at him, open-mouthed. “Um, duh, I’ve already done that.”
He glanced up at her. “You did?”
“Of course. It’s the very first thing I did after I found out about the adoption.”
“Oh, well, in that case, we’re starting with a good night’s sleep. It’s too late to call anyone or drop by.”
Bailey’s enthusiasm visibly deflated. “It’s only ten.”
“Yeah, and all the people we’re visiting are over sixty. Do you really want to start knocking on doors? I don’t think that’s the best way to get the information we want.”
“Okay, fine.” She stood up and went into the bathroom to change her clothes, returning in sweats and a t-shirt.
Ryan avoided looking at her. It was easier to pretend she wasn’t there. He lay back on his bed and pulled his cap over his eyes. The more he thought about it, the more convinced he was this
