“That son-of-a-bitch,” Ryan muttered.
“So…” Bailey said. “Do we know if he did any other research after this? Do you think he knew how I ended up on the side of the road in the Mortons’ yard?”
“The FBI searched William and Nicole’s loft in Oakland. If there was anything to be found, they took it. Since then, Nicole has also gone through everything William owned, but nothing turned up.”
“Nicole must be devastated,” Bailey said. “First, she loses her husband then finds out—”
“Bailey, she’s devastated her search put you in danger. She’s devastated she almost lost her sister before even meeting you. She feels awful for what he’s done to you,” Linda said.
The room grew quiet, but Ryan interrupted the silence and said, “Bailey has always wanted a sister.”
James and Stanley both smiled wide. “So has Nicole.”
* * *
They talked for another hour before Linda showed Bailey and Ryan to their room. They followed Linda upstairs, and she described each room as they passed. “This is James’ room, and Stanley’s is over here. They share a bathroom. Your room is here, and you share a Jack and Jill bathroom with Nicole. Of course, Stanley is the only one who still lives here, but we like to keep their rooms just so. We want all our kids to feel like they can come home whenever they want—and that includes you now, Bailey.”
Linda opened the door, and Bailey had to suppress a gasp. The view from the window was incredible. The house backed against a river, and the setting was so tranquil. The backyard was perfectly manicured, with a large lap pool. Beyond that, a walkway led to a boat dock and the flowing river. Green trees, wildflowers, flowing water. The sight, though not as beautiful as her lake, was still stunning.
“Wow, look at that. I had no idea. I thought this house was surrounded by trees.”
Ryan grunted, putting the bags down. “That’s beautiful.”
“Thank you.” Linda smiled. “We spend a lot of time on the river. If you like golfing, the club is nearby, too.”
“It’s lovely, really,” Bailey said, and when she could tear her eyes from the windows, she walked around the room, taking it all in. The walls were a soft green, the furniture high-gloss white, except for the antique desk in the corner. The linens were all a beautiful purple, offsetting the green perfectly. Fresh lavender flowers stood perky on the bedside table, and Bailey felt like she was staying in some high-class bed and breakfast.
She leaned over to smell the lavender.
“Those are from my garden.”
“You must be a very talented gardener.”
“Oh, flattery! You’re catching on fast,” Linda said, leaning against the doorframe.
Bailey and Ryan laughed, then Bailey said, “I have a few talents, and they all revolve around numbers.”
“Numbers, really?” Linda pursed her lips. “You are your father’s daughter.”
“What do you mean?”
“Alex is an economics professor.”
“Oh, right. I think I read that.”
Linda smiled. “Well, it seems all four of you have inherited the best of your father.” She lifted her hand. “I’ll give you two a few minutes to settle in. Please, let me know if you need anything.”
“Linda, thank you. We feel very welcomed.”
“Of course, you’re welcome here. You’re family.” Linda turned back toward the door. “Feel free to explore the house. It’s your home now, too.”
Bailey nodded and watched her retreat from her doorway. She turned and glanced around the room again. It was immaculate. She smiled ruefully. There was absolutely nothing for her to clean or organize. She had finally found her mothership, and that thought made her laugh.
“I know,” Ryan said.
“You know what?” she asked, still smiling.
“The place is so clean. You obviously belong here.”
She laughed again and winked at him as she walked over to the dresser to evaluate the space for her clothes. When her eyes caught the cluster of photos sitting on top, she reached out and grabbed the largest. It was a wedding portrait, and she knew right away it was of her parents, Theresa and Alex Spatz. She stared at it and tried to imagine the day. Their smiles were wide, the embrace sincere, and all it did was make Bailey sad. She didn’t know how she was supposed to feel about them. She wanted a connection, but she couldn’t pretend something was there when it wasn’t. She thought of her mom, Helen, and wondered for the hundredth time what she would think about all of this.
Didn’t she owe her mother and father some loyalty for raising her, for feeding and supporting her when she’d been left in the snow? Bailey closed her eyes and held the picture to her chest. She’d lived so long without a father, and now she had a father she didn’t know.
“Bailey?”
Her eyes popped open. She turned her head to the door, and there stood her father.
“Everything okay?” he asked, taking a step inside the door. He nodded at Ryan and then looked back at her.
She nodded and returned the photo to the dresser. “Everything’s fine.”
“Do the photos bother you? I can remove them. I just thought—”
“No, I love them.” She picked up a portrait of a newborn baby.
“That’s you,” he said. “It’s one of the few photos I have of you.”
“I have tons. I’ll give you some. My mother always…” She shook her head.
“You miss her, don’t you?”
“Yes, I do. I wish I could talk to her. I don’t know how she’d feel about all this.” She bowed her head, not sure what he would think about that.
“That doesn’t matter now. She’s gone.”
“Excuse me, but, yes, it does.” Bailey inhaled heavily, lifting then dropping her shoulders. “It matters to me. She devoted her life to raising me. I can’t just write her off and not think about how this would’ve affected her.”
“I apologize. I didn’t mean for that to sound so insensitive, and I certainly don’t expect you to write off your old life
