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Ryan winced. “Well, it’s not exactly an altruistic visit.” He pulled out the copy of Zoe’s information form and slid it along the marble-topped kitchen island toward his friend. “I have someone I need you to check out.”

“Who is she?”

“Someone who recently joined Susannah’s campaign and Gil is suspicious of her. He thinks she might be a spy for Lyle Abernathy.”

“Why would that matter?”

“Have you come up for air at all in the last few days?” Ryan asked, his tone split between amusement and frustration. “Abernathy has switched districts and entered the state senate race against Susannah.”

“I guess I heard something about it but didn’t put two and two together.” Paul grabbed a slice of pizza and took a bite while perusing the sheet of paper with Zoe’s information. “So what do you think is going on with Zoe Alston?”

“I’m reserving judgment.”

For a long moment Paul studied his friend. “Are you attracted to her?”

“Yes.”

“So is this really about your sister’s campaign or are you having me investigate her because of what happened with Kelly Briggs?”

“Maybe a little of both,” Ryan admitted, hating that he no longer trusted his gut when it came to women he was drawn to. “Look, there’s nothing wrong with erring on the side of caution. And I’m not the one who raised the alarm.”

While that was true, it was also the case that he wasn’t rushing to defend Zoe as innocent. Gil’s paranoia had aroused Ryan’s suspicions and they weren’t going away without concrete proof that she wasn’t a threat to Susannah.

“I’ll check into her,” Paul said. “Just promise me you’ll back off if I turn up anything.”

Ryan recalled the hit to his libido dealt by Zoe’s delectable scent, lean curves and full lips. Something about her put his senses on full alert and he doubted he’d be able to walk away without getting her into bed first.

“I’ll think about it,” he said, knowing he would do no such thing.

Three

Zoe was fretting about the dinner date she’d made with Ryan Dailey the previous day as she walked through the front door of Second Chance Treasures. She’d opened the boutique featuring arts and crafts items made by women who’d been victims of domestic violence a year ago. The concept for the project had been inspired by the helplessness Zoe had felt while married to Tristan. Usually, the store imbued her with an uplifting sense of pride and accomplishment, but more and more lately she’d been weighed down by looming dread as her bank balance dwindled.

From fledgling idea to breaking even, the project had been Zoe’s passion for three years. In that time she’d been able to help nearly a hundred women who struggled financially after fleeing their troubled marriages. With each month that passed, both her inventory and her customer base grew. Unfortunately, in getting to this point, she’d put everything she had into the store only to find it wasn’t enough.

She was behind on her rent and on the verge of failing everyone who so desperately needed her to pull off a win. The ever-increasing financial pressure was part of what had goaded her into entering the revenge plot with Everly and London. The possibility that London might find a clue that would point Zoe in the direction of the money Tristan had hidden offshore combined with longing to see her ex-husband suffer for the pain he’d put her through was what had drawn Zoe into Everly’s scheme.

“Hey, Jessica,” she called to her part-time helper standing behind the counter. “How’d we do today?”

“Something horrible happened,” the twenty-five-year-old mother of two wailed, heartbreak in her voice. “And it’s all my fault.”

Zoe rushed to her, tamping down panic. The last thing she needed to do was to overreact. “I’m sure it’s not your fault,” she said, coming close enough to see that Jessica’s blue eyes were rimmed in red. She’d obviously been crying. “What happened? Are you okay? No one hurt you, did they?”

“No.” Jessica shook her head vehemently. “Nothing like that. All the cash that was supposed to go to the bank today is gone.”

Zoe bit back a moan as she absorbed the financial hit and wrapped her arms around the distraught woman. “It’s okay. Why don’t you tell me what happened?”

“I wanted to catch Ashley’s program at school so Maggie came in just before lunch to watch the store for me,” Jessica began, her breath shuddering as tears began to fall.

Although Maggie had limited artistic or crafts experience, she’d helped out at the store whenever possible. Zoe had always found her reliable and trustworthy. “You think she took the money?”

Jessica’s shoulders rose and fell. She looked miserable. “When I came back she bolted out of here and I thought it was really strange. It didn’t occur to me until an hour later that I hadn’t locked the cash into

the bank deposit bag before I left. When I went into the back to check on it, the money was gone.”

“It’s okay,” Zoe repeated even though that was the furthest thing from the truth.

Dozens of women were counting on her to pay them for the inventory they’d put their hearts and souls into and she’d promised the landlord she’d catch up on several months’ worth of past-due lease payments. Zoe guessed there had been nearly five thousand dollars in cash ready to be deposited. This was all her fault. She’d been distracted by her work with Susannah’s campaign and had neglected to get to the bank for nearly a week.

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