He knows me too well.

“I need a break, some space from all the love and baby talk going on around here.” It doesn’t help that we’re nearing the anniversary of my mother’s death. I always get antsy this time of year, but for some reason, the letter has just added to it.

“Okay.” He draws the word out.

“I know you probably don’t agree with me, and I can take my vacation time if need be, but I want to pursue this. I want to find Ryan Camden and see for myself what became of him. See how maybe I can use the opportunity for KSM.” And I pray that I don’t find a headstone in a cemetery instead of a living, breathing man.

He simply stares at me when he could say so many things—all of which would be some form of you’re crazy and this is so not like you, but he doesn’t. He must see that I need this somehow.

Some freedom from the everyday role I fulfill in this office. The i-dotter, t-crosser, and stickler on rules.

“I’ll continue to do my work, of course, as well as finding the right people to help give KSM a stronger visual presence. I won’t drop any balls, nor will I—”

“You don’t have to ask for permission, Chase. I know your work ethic. I trust you and hope that you’ll get what you need out of this.”

“Who said I needed anything?” I ask, but know that I do.

The big question though is: what exactly is it that I need?

CHAPTER TWO

Chase

THE DOWDY WOMAN ON THE other side of the reception desk peers at me above the bifocals perched atop her nose. Her blue eyes are sharp and critical as they take me in. “Ryan Camden?” she asks.

“Yes. I was hoping to talk to someone who might know where to find him,” I say with a warm smile, attempting to butter her up.

“And you are?”

“He sent a letter some time ago while he was in the military. Strangely, it just got to me, and I wanted to speak to him about it. I’m a sports agent interested in seeing if he still plays baseball. Still pitches.”

She studies me for a moment. “He doesn’t go here.” Her voice is flat, the corners of her lips so stiff it would require a crane to lift them up as she clicks away on her keyboard.

“I’m aware he doesn’t go here—”

“Hasn’t been here for a good six or seven years if I recall.” Another tight smile. “And the records here on my screen say the same.”

“Like I said, I’m aware he no longer goes here. I’ve asked around and no one in town has a beat on him so I thought maybe if I could talk to Coach Bassett, he might know where I could find him.”