“Get her back to the hospital,” I said when they dropped me off. “I’ll call everyone and let them know what’s going on.”

“You find Marjorie and her mom,” Melanie said. “We’re counting on you, Bryce.”

My eyes still swollen and slightly painful, I ran into the guesthouse. I quickly dialed Talon and then Ryan to let them know what was happening.

Joe.

My best friend.

His baby was early. Premature. I should be at the hospital with him and his wife.

But Marjorie…

Her mother…

Colin…

Someone needed to focus on them.

And that someone was me.

I’d be on pins and needles until I heard from Joe. Thirty-two weeks. Was that considered premature? I remembered from Henry’s birth at thirty-eight weeks that the doctors liked a woman to make it to thirty-six. Plus, Melanie was nearly forty-one. She was hot and gorgeous, but old when it came to childbearing.

Damn! Damn! Damn!

Now what?

Cade Booker.

I had to figure out who the hell Cade Booker was and why he was keeping information from us. I had no idea if he could lead me to Marjorie, but at the moment, he was all I had. Now the police would be looking for him as well.

He’d probably gone on the run, anyway. A man couldn’t just pepper spray a Steel and walk away unscathed.

There would have been questions.

Lots of questions.

Where was I supposed to begin?

I fired up my laptop and started searching for Cade Booker. His law firm came up first. His bio was no help. It extolled his virtues.

Right.

Why was I doing this when I had access to the best PIs in the business? I put in a call to Ruby. She didn’t pick up, so I left her a message. She was probably out working on finding Marjorie and her mother.

Why hadn’t I gotten the number for those PIs, Mills and Johnson, from Joe?

I tried the search engine again. Several of those companies offering arrest records surfaced. For a mere membership fee of twenty-nine ninety-five, I could get all the information they had on Cade Booker and anyone else.

I was desperate, so I succumbed. There went thirty bucks I’d never see again.

Cade Booker, age thirty-eight. Same age as Joe and me.

Relatives. Alessandra Booker, age twenty-four. Too old to be Cade’s kid. Dominic Booker, age twenty-four. Richard Booker, deceased.

Dominic.

I’d heard that name recently.

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