Justine Davis - His Personal Mission

“So she’s a homebody?”

He shrugged. “She liked life here. Her friends, going to the beach. And she volunteered a lot at Safe Haven.”

“Safe Haven?”

“It’s an animal shelter, sort of.”

“Sort of?”

“It’s mainly for the pets of people who have to go to the hospital, or older people who have to go into a nursing home, to take care of them while the owners can’t.”

Sasha smiled widely. “That’s a wonderful idea.”

Ryan nodded; even he had had to admit his little sister had found a worthwhile cause. “It’s the main reason Trish wanted to be a vet, to come back and work for Safe Haven one day. They take care of the animals until the owner can take them back, and when it’s an option, they take them to visit their owners until then. That’s one of the things Trish was doing as a volunteer.”

“Good for her.”

“She was helping with adoptions, too, when they knew the owners wouldn’t be able to take their pet back. They always try to place them with people willing to make the effort to continue the visits.”

Sasha blinked. “To their original people?” Ryan nodded. “That’s beyond wonderful, that’s beautiful. Whoever thought of that should be very proud.”

“Actually, there’s a Redstone connection. Emma McClaren runs it. She’s married to Harlan McClaren. Also known as Mac McClaren.”

Sasha blinked. “The treasure hunter?”

“The same.” He wasn’t surprised she knew the name; anybody even vaguely aware of world happenings had heard of the man who had such a knack for finding and salvaging fortunes both sunken and buried.

“Wow.” Her brow furrowed. “But what’s the Redstone connection?”

Ryan grinned. “Who do you think bankrolled Josh Redstone when he was starting out?”

Her eyes widened. “Really?”

“And now he’s Josh’s right-hand financial go-to guy. He’s got as much of a knack with finances and investments as he does finding treasure. And he’s available to anybody who’s Redstone. He’s why even our file clerks have a retirement plan that’s the envy of the corporate world.”

“I had no idea.”

“Few people do. Neither he nor Josh brags much.”

“You’re quite the Redstone booster, aren’t you?”

He bristled slightly. “Redstone doesn’t need me to boost it. It speaks for itself.”

“That wasn’t criticism. I have the highest opinion of Redstone, and Josh. We wouldn’t exist if not for them, and him, and if we didn’t, I’d be trying to get a job there.”

“Oh.” He felt a bit foolish.

“I like that you want to defend it, though.”

He shrugged, tracing a path through the condensation on his glass. “I don’t know where I’d be if Josh hadn’t…been who he was.”

She knew his story, he’d told her himself when he’d realized he wanted to keep seeing her. He’d told her before she’d heard it from someone else, not wanting her to get some slanted version of his youthful exploits as a malicious hacker who’d tackled Redstone just because they were the biggest kid on the block.

“So how’s your retirement looking?” she asked. Startled, he looked up. Saw the twinkle of humor in her dark eyes. Felt the smile start to curve his mouth before he even realized he was doing it.

“Great,” he said. “Even my dad approves. Thinks I’m finally being responsible. I haven’t had the heart to tell him I signed up half because I wanted the kick of Mac McClaren doing my investing for me.”

She laughed at that, but then, rather more intently, asked, “And the other half?”

Of course she hadn’t missed that. He hadn’t forgotten how rarely she missed anything. The very trait that made her so good at what she did also made her sometimes uncomfortably observant to be around. Especially if you were prone to sliding easily along the surface of life.

“I’m trying,” he said at last. “Somebody told me once I didn’t worry enough.”

Her dark, arched brows shot upward. He’d startled her with that, since she’d been the one who’d said it.

“I doubt they said exactly that,” she said.

“Close enough.”

To his amazement, she seemed flustered. He’d never been able to manage that before, and he wasn’t sure if it was a good or bad sign that he’d done it now. Before he could decide, their food had arrived.

The cheeseburgers were as good as always, but he wasn’t able to give his the attention it deserved. Not with Sasha sitting across the table from him. He was grateful when, between bites—he’d always liked the fact that she enjoyed food—she turned back to the reason they were here.

“So this is uncharacteristic of your sister?”

“Very. Like I said, she loved living here, and her friends, and what she did at Safe Haven.”

“Have you talked to them? The shelter?”

“I talked to one of the other volunteers. She said Trish left Emma a note saying essentially the same thing.”

“Did she have a work schedule there, or as a volunteer did she just drop in whenever?”

He frowned. “I’m not sure.”

“We’ll check that out, then. And the girlfriend. Anyone else you can think of?”

The French fry Ryan had just swallowed seemed to jam in his suddenly tight throat. He hadn’t realized just how much he’d needed somebody to believe, somebody to take his word for the fact that something was wrong with the way his sister had just up and left everything she knew and loved.

“You’ll help?” he said, almost wonderingly.

“Of course,” Sasha said. “It’s what I do.”

And if he was wishing she meant that personally as well as a representative of the Westin Foundation helping someone from Redstone, that was his problem, Ryan told himself. It didn’t matter what he wished, or that he wished it from Sasha Tereschenko.

What mattered was that they find Trish.

Safe.

“Is this taking you away from something else?”

Sasha glanced at Ryan in the passenger seat before pulling out into traffic; they were taking her car out to Safe Haven because he was low on gas and it was a long drive. And, as she’d pointed out, she got paid mileage.

“Not at the moment. That case we just finished was the only thing right now.”

“You and…Russ.”

“Yes.” She saw something flicker in his eyes; he’d never liked Russ. And she was female enough to be flattered when she’d realized why.

“Is he still…”

“Hitting on me? Tirelessly.”

“Did you ever give in?”

“No. Not,” she added, “that it’s your business.”

“I know that.”

He said it so quietly she changed her tone. “He only wants me because I don’t want him. He finds that…hard to believe.”

“He would,” Ryan muttered.

Sasha stifled a smile.

“Happy ending?” he asked.

It took her an instant to make the shift. “The case?”

“Yeah.”

She had to turn her attention back to her driving as a chance to get out of The Grill driveway presented itself—not something to be bypassed even midday in this busy area. It also gave her a chance to process the thought that she was surprised he’d asked. The old Ryan, the two-years-ago Ryan, wouldn’t have even thought of that.

That she doubted he would even have cared back then was one of the reasons she’d walked away.

“Yes,” she said once they had merged safely into the number two lane. “We found him in time.”

“Little one?”

Again she was surprised. “Yes. Eight years old. Noncustodial parent took him.”

“That’s kind of common, isn’t it?”

Now she was really surprised. “Yes. Yes, it is.”

“I’m lucky my folks stayed together. Seems like all my friends’ parents divorced, remarried, had more kids, divorced, and on and on.”