Meanwhile, her superiors had been royally ticked that she hadn’t come to them as soon as she’d uncovered the illegal operation and had suspended her. She’d quit instead. She hated the rules and restrictions that were part and parcel of government work, so as soon as the case had ended, she’d returned home and settled back into her life, surrounded by her chaotic family. All her time in the safe house had made her realize she didn’t enjoy her job as much as she should. Not when the job was all she had. For a while, she’d helped her parents in their new spa business venture but playing bookkeeper and receptionist didn’t suit her. She missed the action and day-to-day surprises on the job.
The action had drawn her to the FBI to begin with. The training at Quantico and subsequent job had more than filled her need for excitement. Too bad rules and regulations had been part of the package. She hoped her new business would give her back the satisfaction of thrills on the job. And she looked forward to working for only herself and her partners, planning and implementing security detail.
Once the business was established, she could turn her attention to finding a place of her own. Residing with her parents had worked while she’d been on the road on assignment, living out of hotels more often than being home. But she’d turn thirty next week, and it was past time for her to grow up and move out.
Her parents accused her of being afraid of committing to anything, any man or any place. She didn’t like to think of herself as afraid of anything.
“We’ll talk tomorrow. Right now I’m going to find Ari,” Quinn said, interrupting her thoughts.
Zoe cleared her throat. “Good idea. Maybe she can talk Mom out of embarrassing Sam with this Pin the Hard-on game, or at least get it over with before the social worker gets here.”
Despite the seriousness of the caseworker’s visit, she and Quinn couldn’t help but laugh. They both found the Costas clan uniquely amusing. They were one big family, including Sam, whom they were intent on protecting and making happy.
Zoe understood how important it was for Sam to feel loved and she had to admit, for all their oddball tendencies, love was what the Costas family did best.
Almost there. Ryan Baldwin glanced at the directions supplied by the private investigator and turned right. Two more blocks and his search for his runaway sister’s child would finally be at an end. A bittersweet end after a long, nearly fruitless search.
Faith had left home when she was seventeen—hopelessly hooked on drugs—but Ryan hadn’t been able to begin searching for her until five years later when he’d turned eighteen. By then her trail had turned cold. He hadn’t given up looking, but Faith had changed her name so many times that the P.I. had had one hell of a time finding out what had happened to her.
Only recently had his P.I. stumbled onto information from a convict who had some link to Faith, and more facts had come to light. Ryan was still reeling from the painful discovery that his sister had been shot and killed six years ago by a bullet meant for her drug-dealer boyfriend, a guy now serving a life sentence. Ryan was also floored by the news that Faith had had a child.
He glanced down and realized he’d clenched his fists too tightly around the steering wheel, and loosened his grip. Thinking of Faith was always difficult. More so now that he understood what had happened after she’d run away.
Growing up, Ryan had alternated between missing his older sister and envying her the freedom he felt sure she’d finally found. Their conservative upbringing in an elite suburb of Boston, Massachusetts had never matched his sister’s wilder personality. As his older brother, J.T., had already moved out, her running away had left Ryan as the only child at home. His parents had disowned Faith because of her defiance, and Ryan had caught on quickly, always behaving as expected.
Since J.T. had followed tradition and gone into the family department-store business to help his father and uncle, Ryan had become an attorney with the family’s blessing. He was a partner in a firm downtown, distancing himself in ways his sister couldn’t while she’d lived at home.
That distance had given him the strength to continue the search for his sister, and it had finally paid off. He was on his way to meet his niece, a fourteen-year-old girl named Samantha who had been in and out of foster care since her mother’s death six years ago. He planned to rescue his niece from that hellish fate and bring her home where she belonged.
He pulled up to a well-kept house in a suburban Jersey neighborhood. The clapboard siding was painted a cheery yellow with white trim and on the front lawn was a sign that read Costas Day Spa. Evening Hours Available.