Sherryl Woods - The Devaney Brothers - Ryan and Sean - Ryan's Place

He found the private investigator on a basketball court a few blocks away, shooting hoops with a bunch of neighborhood kids. When he spotted Ryan, he passed the ball to one of the boys and loped over to meet him.

“Thank heavens you came along. They were wearing me out,” he said, bending down to catch his breath. “Don’t know when I got to be so out of shape.”

“Too many nights on a barstool?” Ryan asked.

“I don’t think a couple of ales account for it. Probably the cigarettes.” He grabbed a towel from a bench and wiped his face. “What brings you over here? Were you looking for me?”

Ryan nodded. “I need your expertise.” He explained about Letitia Monroe and her son. “Think you can track down the father?”

“If he’s using credit cards or gotten a new job, I can probably locate him by the end of the day,” Jack said, then held up his hand when Ryan started to say something. “But if somebody really wants to get lost, there won’t be much I can do to find them.”

“I doubt he gave this enough thought to hide out for long,” Ryan said. “I think it was an impulsive decision. He probably just got scared and ran. Sooner or later he’ll have to do something for money. They didn’t have much. Now Mrs. Monroe and the kid are at the St. Mary’s shelter.”

One of the boys, taking a break to drink some water, overheard. “You talking about Lamar’s dad?”

Ryan nodded. “You know him?”

“Yeah. He used to work with my old man till he quit his job and took off.”

“Has your dad mentioned anything about where he might have gone?” Jack asked him.

The boy regarded him warily. “He ain’t in no trouble, is he?”

“Not the way you mean,” Ryan assured him.

“Then you might try checking around down by the docks. Sometimes you can pick up day work there. My dad said that’s what he told him. He said old man Monroe just needed some time to think.”

Jack gave the boy a high-five. “Thanks, Rick. I owe you.”

“Does that mean you’ll give me another lesson on that fancy computer of yours?” the boy asked hopefully.

“Meet me at my place at five. I can spend an hour or so with you then,” Jack promised.

A grin split the boy’s face. “All right!”

Jack shook his head as the gawky kid, who kept tripping over his own feet, moved back onto the basketball court. “Never seen a kid so eager to learn. I find him on my doorstep half a dozen times a week, hoping I’ll show him how to do things on the computer. He’s getting so he can do a search and turn up things I never even thought to look for. Pretty soon, he’ll be giving me lessons.”

“You think there’s anything to his suggestion about looking for Lamar’s dad down by the docks?”

“No way of telling till I go down there. I’ll go now, then stop by the pub and let you know what I find out. When’s the kid’s surgery?”

“It’s not scheduled yet, but I imagine it’ll be in the next week or two. It’s a risky procedure. The boy needs to know his father’s there for him.”

“Then we’ll find a way to make that happen,” Jack said confidently.

“You need a retainer?” Ryan asked.

“No way. This one’s on me. Just make sure there’s a cold ale waiting for me when I get there later.”

“Thanks, Jack.”

“Hey, not a problem. I can’t have the neighborhood thinking you’re the only good guy around. I need my share of those babes who are always circling around you. Hell, I’d even take one of Rory’s rejects.”

Ryan laughed. “You pick out any woman in the pub and I’ll introduce you.”

“I saw a redhead in there the night before Thanksgiving...” Jack began.

Ryan stiffened. “Except her,” he said.

Jack’s gaze narrowed. “What’s up with that? Is she married?”

“No.”

“Engaged?”

“No.”

A grin spread across Jack’s face. “Yours?”

Ryan hesitated, then sighed. “Could be.” Whether he wanted it that way or not.

* * *

Maggie walked into the pub shortly after three in the afternoon lugging a laptop, a portable printer and a package of paper. Rory came out of the kitchen, took one look at her and rushed over to take some of the load.

“You trying to get a hernia?” he demanded. “What is all this stuff?”

“I wanted to make a point with Ryan. Is he around?”

“He went by the shelter. He should be back soon.” He paused in the middle of the room. “Where do you want this?”

“In his office,” she said at once.

Rory shook his head. “I don’t think that’s such a good idea.”

“Why not?”

“Nobody goes in Ryan’s office without an invitation.”

“Why is that?”

“Because he says so,” Rory said simply. “And since something tells me he’s not going to be real happy to see all this fancy technological stuff, anyway, maybe you better not start off on the wrong foot by busting in there when he’s not around.”

Maggie considered the advice. “You could have a point. Set it on the end of the bar. There’s bound to be a plug nearby.”

Rory shook his head again. “If I were you, I’d pick a real dark corner.”

Maggie laughed. “The bar will do.”

He shrugged. “Suit yourself. Hope you don’t mind if I go back in the kitchen. I want to be out of the line of fire when he gets back. Can I get you a drink or something before I go?”

“No, thanks. Besides, I worked the bar last night. If I get thirsty, I can fix something.”

A look of delight split his round face. “Taking over here, are you? That’s the girl. Poor Ryan’s head must be spinning.”

She grinned at that. “I certainly hope so.”

“Well, I’ll leave you to it, then. You need any advice from a man who knows him well, you come to me. There’s little about Ryan Devaney that I don’t know. He’s the best friend a man could have. And something tells me if a woman can win his heart, he’ll be the best husband, as well. The trick lies in the winning. You won’t do it overnight.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Maggie said, finding it interesting that Rory’s impression so closely mirrored Father Francis’s.

While she waited for Ryan to arrive, she set up the computer and printer, then opened her business finance program. She began filling in all the inventory categories she could think of for a pub. Satisfied that she’d hit on most of them, she looked up to find Ryan standing over her, a scowl on his face.

“What’s this?” he inquired, as if she’d brought a dangerous foreign object into his pub.

“A free demonstration,” she said cheerfully. “Come see.”

“I don’t have the time. I’ve a business to run. And I’m getting a late start as it is.”

“What I’m suggesting would make it easier,” she said.

“Can it serve drinks?”

She frowned at the mocking question. “No, but—”

“Then I’m not interested,” he said flatly. He reached for an apron and tied it around his waist, then vanished to the far end of the bar, leaving her to stare after him.

“Don’t mind Ryan,” Father Francis advised, appearing out of nowhere and sliding onto the stool next to her. “He’ll come around. After a childhood that was filled with the unexpected, he works hard to keep things steady and familiar, now that he’s grown. It takes him a while to warm up to new people and even longer to listen to new ideas.”

“And I’m pushing at the boundaries of his comfort zone,” Maggie assessed thoughtfully, considering his reaction from a fresh perspective. “Maybe I should back off.”

“Now, why would you be wanting to do such a thing?” Father Francis demanded. “Change is what keeps us all alive. Ryan does too little of it.”