A swift glance revealed nothing but a group of young people who were spending the summer at the marine center on the north side of the island. Linked to the university, the floating laboratory ensured a steady stream of customers for the Ocean Club. They were loud, enthusiastic, in love with life and harmless. And untidy. They’d strewn their belongings over the table and vacant chairs. Backpacks, water bottles, leaflets detailing boat trips, a scientific magazine and a newspaper. They were deeply involved in a discussion about ecosystem-based fisheries management. He knew that at least a couple of them had the right to use “Dr.” in front of their names. They were absorbed and argumentative and passionate. Not one of them had glanced over at their table.

There was no visible reason to justify Emily’s abrupt departure.

“So you scared her away.” Kirsti was back, clearing the plates. “You must be losing your touch. Still, at least you have a reason to chase after her.”

Ryan lifted an eyebrow. “I do?”

“Sure.” Kirsti put down the loaded tray and picked up the bear. “She’s not going to want to be without this. Unless she has a spare. When I’m a mom, I’m going to buy spares of everything.”

Ryan took the bear. “She’ll be back for it when she realizes she left it.”

“Or you could take it to her.” Kirsti added an empty glass to the tray. “You shouldn’t let The One get away. That bear is the equivalent of Cinderella’s slipper. Except that you know it fits.”

Ryan rolled his eyes. “I changed my mind. You’re fired.”

“You can’t fire me. I make great coffee, and I never complain when we’re busy. And it’s my moral duty to make sure people don’t choose the wrong partners. Talking of which, those two at the table by the door are totally wrong for each other. I might have to interfere.” She strolled off carrying the tray, Cupid in disguise.

Still holding the bear, Ryan started to follow her but accidentally knocked the chair behind him.

A bag and the newspaper fell to the floor, and he stooped to retrieve both with a murmur of apology.

Without thinking, he scanned the headline, something about health care reforms.

Returning the newspaper to the chair, he was about to walk back to the bar when something else caught his eye.

Juliet, Juliet, wherefore art thou, Juliet?

It wasn’t the misquote of Shakespeare that caught his attention, it was the picture beneath it.

The media was still focused on the plane crash that had killed actress Lana Fox and her much older lover. There had been endless speculation about the whereabouts of her little girl.

Ryan grabbed the newspaper and took a closer look at the photograph, and in that single moment he had the answers he’d been looking for.