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Layla frowned in confusion. “But you said—”
“I said I didn't find Daniel Castillo. He uses the name Andreas now.”
“I see. So you did find him. You talked to him.”
“Yes.”
“What's he like now? I remember him very well, you know. Of all the boys Jared and Cassie took in, I worried most about him. He was so angry. So defiant. Not that I blamed him, poor thing, after he lost his mother in such a terrible way. But I was concerned that you were so drawn to him. I knew you had a crush on him, of course.”
“And you made sure I didn't spend much time alone with him.”
“That's true,” Layla admitted. “I figured you were a good influence on him—but I couldn't help worrying that he would be a bad influence on you.”
Because that seemed so ironic in light of all that happened after she found Daniel in Missouri, B.J. moistened her lips and stared at her hands.
“What's he like now?”
How was she to answer that? “Different,” she said finally. “A little hard to describe.”
“Did he turn out well? Is he a good man?”
Again B.J. was hard-pressed to answer. She settled for the reply that felt right to her. “He's a good man.”
“Is he married?”
The gold band felt heavy in her pocket. “No.”
“Is he coming to the party in October?”
“I don't think so.”
“Molly will be disappointed.”
“I know.” B.J. reached for the half-empty glass of soda sitting on a coaster on the coffee table. She needed something to do to keep her hands occupied and to give her an excuse not to look into her mother's eyes as she evaded questions she wasn't yet prepared to answer.
Layla sighed lightly. “I tried to warn Molly not to get her hopes too high. All those troubled boys—there's no way for her to know what they've been up to since she saw them last. Some of them could very well have gone into lives of crime, for all we know.”
B.J. choked on a sip of soda. She hastily set her glass on the table.
“Honey? Are you okay?”
“I'm fine, Mom. Thanks,” she managed to reply.
“Anyway, I couldn't say much to Molly. Because after all, I didn't listen when people tried to discourage me from looking for my siblings all those years ago. Since we were separated so young and raised in different foster homes and adoptive families, there was no telling how everyone ended up. But I had to follow my heart—and look how much joy my family has brought to my life during the past twenty-five years.”
B.J. had heard the story dozens of times, of course. Layla and her six siblings had been split up after their mother died when Jared, the eldest, was only eleven and Lindsey not even a year old. Just over twenty-five years ago, B.J.'s aunt Michelle had hired private investigator Tony D'Alessandro to locate her biological siblings. Layla, who had already been searching, was the first to be found.
Eventually they had all been reunited, except for a brother who had died in his late teens, leaving behind a daughter. That daughter, Brynn, was now another beloved member of the extensive Walker family—as well as the equally numerous D'Alessandro clan, since she had married Tony's younger brother Joe.
Layla shook her head. “Molly's bound and determined to find out for herself what became of all those foster boys she grew up with, and I'm certainly not going to discourage her. Are you sure there's no chance Daniel will come to the party?”
“I don't know. But I really doubt it.”
“Is that why you've been so unhappy since you came home? Because you feel like you let Molly down?”
B.J. should have known her mother wouldn't be deterred for long from trying to find out what was bothering her. “I'm fine, Mom. Really.”
“Another life crisis?” Layla asked in resignation. “Have you decided private investigation isn't the career you want either?”
