“But he could just be a con man.”
“That's another possibility.”
“Can you find out?”
“I still have a few strings to pull with the feds. But if he is undercover, neither he nor his superiors will appreciate us asking questions about him. And if they're looking for him, they're going to want to know what we know about him.”
Which could lead someone straight to his aunt, whom he worried so much about protecting, B.J. thought, chewing on her lower lip.
She lifted her eyes to meet her uncle's. “Don't do anything yet,” she said. “And I would appreciate it if you didn't mention this,” she added, sliding the ring off her finger.
“If that's what you want.”
“Thank you.”
Her hand felt oddly bare when she slipped the ring into her wallet for safety. Only then did she notice that the snapshot of Daniel that she had carried in her wallet was missing. He must have taken it when he'd retrieved her things.
He hadn't even left her a photograph of himself, she thought with a clench in her heart. She knew he hadn't intended to leave his mother's ring with her.
It was only because so much had been going on around them that both of them had forgotten that ring. Maybe it had been wishful thinking on her part, she thought with a slight wince, but Daniel had more likely simply forgotten to take it back from her.
That was an oversight she intended to correct as soon as possible.
Chapter Fou
rteen
Maybe she was still jumpy from being spirited away to a luxury resort, stranded overnight on an island, locked in a storage closet and made love to by a dashing con man. Perhaps that explained why, almost two weeks after her return to Dallas, B.J. nearly jumped out of her shoes when someone knocked on the door of her apartment.
It was Saturday afternoon and she wasn't expecting anyone. She stuffed the gold band she had been holding into one pocket of her jeans and moved across the living room to check the peephole in her front door.
She didn't know who she had been expecting to see—at least, not that she would admit—but she didn't know if she was more pleased or dismayed to see her mother's face in the distorted view of the peephole.
“Mom,” she said, opening the door with a determinedly bright smile. “What are you doing here?”
“I suppose I should have called.” Layla Walker Samples stepped over the threshold. “But I had a feeling you would be here.”
Knowing her mother's pleasantly casual expression was as deceptive as her own smile, B.J. kissed the offered soft cheek and waved a hand toward the sofa. “Sit down. What can I get for you? Tea? Coffee? As you can see, I've been drinking a soda.”
“Nothing right now, thank you. Sit next to me a moment, Brittany.”
Her mother was the only person who had been allowed to call her that since B.J. announced on her sixteenth birthday that she preferred to use her initials. B.J. settled warily on one end of the couch, wondering what was coming next.
Layla reached out to take her hands. “When are you going to tell me what happened to you while you were away? I know it's still haunting you. You haven't been yourself since you got back.”
Not herself. That was exactly the way B.J. had felt since she'd returned.
“You've been so distracted. You've lost weight—and you didn't have any to lose. I don't think I've seen you smile—not really smile—since you came home.”
The obviously unsuccessful attempt at a smile that B.J. had been wearing faded. Why bother when there was no fooling her mother?
“I know you were looking for Daniel Castillo,” Layla continued. “Molly told me she asked you to find him to invite him to the big surprise party she's planning for Jared and Cassie. Did you find him?”
“I didn't exactly find Daniel Castillo.”
“Is that why you've been upset? Because you feel like you failed in your assignment? You know Tony and Ryan and Joe will teach you more about being an investigator, if that's still what you're determined to do.”
“I found Daniel, Mom.”