Mariah? Only a few feet away. This could not be happening.
The one woman he didn't want to see was sleeping across the hall.
This wasn't going to be good. Not for him, and probably not for her.
They just didn't belong together. End of story.
Ryan's voice was deep and rich, like melted chocolate on the senses. It had sent tingles down Mariah's spine when they were together. She could have listened to him read the phone book and been happy as a clam. She'd teased him once that he should have been a stage actor, spouting Shakespeare for an adoring audience. He'd just laughed and not taken her seriously.
That summed up their entire relationship in a nutshell. She'd talk and he wouldn't take her seriously. He'd already made up his mind about...everything. He didn't know much about compromising and he hadn't loved her enough to try. Or maybe he simply didn't know how. She'd had her issues as well. Patience hadn't been her strong suit and she hadn't known how bad for better or worse could get. She did now, though. Her divorce had been final for about a year. She wasn't all that proud that she hadn't been able to make it work.
Maybe it never was Ryan at all. Maybe I was always the problem.
It had been a long time since she'd heard Ryan's voice - since Liza's wedding five years ago. She and Ryan had tried to avoid one another that day but they were both in the wedding party and it had been pretty much impossible. She'd actually seen him duck into the kitchen at the reception when she was walking in his direction. She hadn't planned to speak to him. She'd only be heading to the ladies' room.
Since it had been so long, Mariah had assumed she was immune to it. Wrong.
She'd been coming home from a meeting today, just unlocking her own front door, when she'd heard his voice. It had permeated the old walls in the building and once more she was transported back to the past. She'd been spending far too much time there since Brad's body had been discovered.
She couldn't say she wasn't warned. Liza had called and told her that Ryan was coming to Chicago for the party but Mariah had thought it wouldn't be this soon. She'd scurried into her own apartment and quickly shut the door as if she could block out the memories that always crowded her thoughts whenever Ryan was in the same city limits.
She'd dated other men. She'd even been in love with one or two of them. What was it about this one man that made her lose all common sense? It was almost enough to have her pouring a glass of wine in the middle of the day.
Almost.
Instead, she rummaged in her pantry and grabbed the bag of dark chocolate that she kept for emergencies. She needed a hit of sugar and she needed it quickly to bring her back to reality. It wasn't thirteen years ago. It was now, the present.
Ryan Beck was the past. That's where he needed to stay.
5
Skip and Lily Harrington lived in a penthouse overlooking Lake Michigan. Ryan had been there several times in his youth and it appeared that not much had changed. The doorman was different and the carpeted hallways looked freshened up but the inside of the Harrington home was almost identical except for a few different paintings on the walls.
Their fireplace mantle had several photos of Brad through the years and Ryan found his gaze resting on them long enough that it caught the notice of Lily.
"He was such a handsome young man," Lily said, her tone full of pride for her oldest son. "I think he favors his father but he has my eyes."
Lily did have the same blue eyes.
"I think he does look like you," Ryan said, settling on the edge of a chair. Lily and Skip were sitting on the couch to his right. "He has your chin too."
That statement apparently pleased Lily because she beamed, reaching out to pat her husband's arm. "I think Ryan might be right."
Skip nodded and held his wife's hand. He wasn't smiling. "We're very grateful that you could come on such short notice and handle this investigation. I'm not sure that the police are going to give it much attention, to be honest. They seem to think that it all happened too long ago."
The Harrington family had a great deal of pull in Chicago and were well-connected, Ryan had a feeling that the police were going to do more than they normally would but they were trying to temper expectations.
I need to do that too. Right now.
"Solving a cold case isn't easy," Ryan replied. "Memories get fuzzy, witnesses disappear or pass on, and evidence gets lost. It's an uphill battle and we don't always win. I'm going to do my very best for you but you need to understand that I may not be able to find out what truly happened to Brad that night."
"If anyone can find out, it's you," Lily said. "You were there."
"I was," Ryan conceded. "But I wasn't around Brad the whole night. I don't know that I have anything to add to the investigation."
"You're a Beck," Skip said confidently, a small smile appearing on his tanned and lined face. "So I know you won't give up until you find out what happened to my boy. I have confidence in you."
A Beck? What did that even mean?
"I'll do my best for you. I just want us all to be on the same page." He cleared his throat. This part wasn't going to be easy. Parents always think that they know everything about their child, but the reality was they rarely do. "What can you tell me about Brad that last week before he disappeared? Did he have any visitors? Was he acting strangely? Anything at all that you might be able to tell me could help, even if you think it's not important."
Lily and Skip exchanged a quick glance and through some unspoken agreement decided to let Skip start.
"Brad was in good spirits," the older man said. "He'd had a few bumps in the road during the school year but he'd pulled it together at the end of the semester and done well. He was planning on going to law school so he could join the family firm. Did he tell you that?"
"He did," Ryan confirmed. "He was hoping for Yale Law, just like you."
Skip nodded again. "It would have meant the world to me to have my son following in my footsteps."
They were silent and Ryan didn't prod, letting them gather their thoughts in their own time. He'd learned not to intervene or try to guide the conversation too much.
"He was dating Caroline." Skip fidgeted on the couch, his lips pressed together. "She ended up marrying Danny. He was Brad's best friend."
He was speaking about Caroline Charles and Daniel Bosworth. Ryan had attended their wedding about eight years ago. They appeared to be a happy couple.
Lily nudged her husband. "Skip, it wasn't like she ran off with Danny the next day. It was years later and she deserves to be happy. After all, Brad–"
"I won't hear ill of my dead son," Skip interjected, color rising in his cheeks. "He was young and just sowing some wild oats. He wouldn't hurt anyone on purpose."
Fortunately - or maybe unfortunately - Ryan knew what Lily was referring to. He'd run in a small, rather tight knit group and everyone had known everyone else's business.
"I'm aware that Brad was seeing other girls," Ryan said. "It wasn't a huge secret. I'm sure Caro was aware as well, to be honest."