One pass through town showed everything Arcadia offered, everything centered on boat names and Noah's Ark.

Roman thought they'd gone overboard on the theme, but Charamel had claimed it made them unique. Yeah, uniquely nuts. He wheeled a U-turn and slid his bike into a spot near the entrance.

A small bell tinkled  as he pushed open the door. There wasn't a clerk in sight, but someone yelled a greeting from the rear of the store. Roman strolled to  the liquor section and grabbed a bottle of Jack Daniel's. Before he  could return to the front, a woman came around the corner and stopped  in her tracks.

"Roman? When... what... how...?"

It took a second for him  to recognize the dark-haired girl. "Mariana? Is that you? You've grown  up." This was awkward. Did he hug her? Shake her hand? Pat her on the shoulder? Shit. It'd been so long since he'd seen someone he knew,  especially a woman, he didn't know what to do. He waited for her to make  a move.

She put her hand to her throat and drew a quick breath. "You, too. Did you get paroled?"

"No. I'm free and clear. Guilty party finally came forward."

She moved past him and  stepped behind the counter. She remembered the devil-may-care Roman  DeRoux of her childhood, but never thought it was him that burned  Silver Crown Roadhouse down. She had been friends with Ophelia and  knew he would never be so reckless when he had his sister to think of.  She'd be hard pressed to find anyone who loved their sister as much as  Roman did, even if it was the worst-kept family secret that Ophelia and  Roman weren't full blooded siblings. "Just getting into town?"

"Got here last night." He set his purchase next to the register. "Give me a carton of   Marlboros." He tried to remember the last time he'd seen her. She'd been  just a teenager. Beautiful even then, she'd only improved. He glanced at her hand. No ring.

She laid the box next to the liquor and took Roman's money. "Oh. You've been to the house?"

He accepted his change. "Yeah. Had a surprise waiting for me."

"You met Zoya."

Before he could answer, someone interrupted.

Mariana looked over the  new customer's shoulder and spoke to Roman. "I'm due for a break. Meet me out back at the picnic table."

He put the bottle in his  saddlebag, moved the cycle around the building, lit a cigarette and took a long drag, then blew the smoke into the air. The breeze floated  it into the bare limbs of a tall poplar tree. The mornings and evenings  were chilly, but by noon each day, temps hovered in the low seventies.

A pair of birds flew to a  nearby box nailed to a post. The male poked his head in the hole, then  looked at the female. She fluttered to the fence wire and chattered. He  went inside, joined her, then sailed back to the boat-shaped house again  as if coaxing her inside. Roman shook his head. Damn bird couldn't get  the female to go in the house and Roman couldn't get one to leave.

Mariana came around the  end of the building, pulling her jacket tighter. She stuck her hands in  the pockets. "So, you don't look too bad. I guess you held your own in  prison."

He sucked on his cigarette, then flicked ashes. "Oh yeah. It was a real party. Seven years. Non-stop."

"Sorry. I didn't mean to make light of it."

He smirked. "I know what  you meant. Been out a year and had time to gain weight and get over the beat-down persona. But enough about my exciting life, what about  you? Don't see a ring. Thought you'd be married with babies by now."

"Not yet, but close."

"Don't see an engagement ring either."

Mariana laughed. "Okay, here's the thing. I'm involved, and he's asked, but I haven't answered yet. Still considering it."

Roman sat next to her. "That tells me a lot."

"What does that mean?"

He wanted to tell it  meant she must not love the guy or she wouldn't be hesitating. He remembered her being the same age as Ophelia. That'd make her  twenty-five. Old enough to settle down, and there couldn't be that many  available dudes in Arcadia. But the way she pulled her brows together  and frowned, Roman decided it was a subject she didn't want to discuss.  "Forget it. None of my business."

"No, that's okay. Here's  the Cliffs Notes of my life since I last saw you. Almost have my  teaching degree via online courses. I work part-time here and substitute  at the elementary school, while trying to get a bath and body products  line off the ground. I'm dating Andrew Cahil. Did you ever meet him?"

Roman wanted to ask more, but from her tone, he figured he'd pushed his luck. Bottom line, she wasn't available. "Don't think so."

"So, was Zoya surprised to see you?"

"Didn't seem to be. Who is she and why is she living at Charamel's?"

Mariana plopped her butt  onto the tabletop and planted her feet on the bench.  "All I know is a  few years ago, your grandmother told me a girl was coming to live with  her. Asked me to make friends. So I did."

Roman cocked his head. "You don't know where she came from or how Charamel knew her?"

"Nope. But it was the  best thing that could have happened. Six months after she moved in, Charamel got diagnosed with cancer. Had it not been for Zoya, your  grandmother would have spent her last days in a nursing home. She would  have hated that."

He pulled more nicotine  into his lungs. "I don't get it. Charamel said nothing in her  letters. Ophelia never mentioned meeting a caretaker at the funeral."

"Zoya didn't go to the  service. She works at the funeral home. Probably said her goodbye there  because that's the only place she goes. She's practically a recluse."

"Where the hell did she come from, and why is she here?"

Mariana shrugged  nonchalantly. "I don't know. Charamel told me about her a few days  before she arrived and asked me to look out for her. I asked Charamel,  but she wouldn't give me a straight answer, and Zoya just clams up at  any personal questions."

"Why isn't she in school?"

"She's older than you think."

"How old?"

"Oh, shit! Today's her birthday. I totally forgot. She's twenty-four."

"Twenty-four? No way."

"She has her cosmetology license." She shrugged. "Are you going to let her stay?"

"Hell, no. Something's not right about her, and when it all hits the fan, I don't need the grief."

She turned the full  force of the Mariana López's glare on him, one he recognized well from when Ophelia would come home crying because someone made fun of her  hand-me-downs. He had wanted to do something for her so badly, but he   couldn't exactly knock out some seventh graders. Mariana had no such  qualms in bloodying up her classmates. "I know prison changes a person,  but you aren't that much of an asshole, Roman. She may be odd, but she's  a good person. Charamel loved her, and if she'd had any idea you'd get  out this soon, I bet she would have wanted you to accept her."

Roman thought of the  money he'd found. Wasn't like the kid didn't have the means to go somewhere else. "Well, I don't feel sorry for her," he grumbled. "She's  freeloaded long enough. Time for her to find a new home."

Mariana checked her  watch and hopped off the table, leveling him up. "She isn't freeloading.  Still deposits a rent payment into Charamel's bank account every month.  A clear sign of integrity."

Roman dropped his cigarette and ground it into the dirt with the toe of his boot. "You don't want me to kick her out, do you?"

The breeze caught  threads of Mariana's hair and blew them across her face.  She raked the  strands behind her ear and looked up at him. "I understand your concern  and I agree she's hiding. But if she had anyone else to depend on, I  think she'd already be gone. Maybe you should give it a try. As private  as she is, you might not even know she's there."

Roman stared until  Mariana disappeared. Damn. He hated she was taken. As small as the town was, there wouldn't be much to choose from. Most women his age were  already married, or divorced, usually with children in tow. He didn't  need the responsibility of someone's kids. Hell, he wasn't sure if he   wanted to produce any of his own.

At least the  spot-in-the-road had a bar, and if he remembered right, the neighboring town had several. Since he was headed to Breaux Bridge, he'd find out.  Just because he wasn't traveling anymore didn't mean he had to give up  women. Another reason he needed to get rid of the problem houseguest.

Marion O'Donnell-St.  Clair held her desk phone to one ear and her cell to the other. "You listen to me, Nigel. I've been more than patient, but you have no more  information about my step-daughter than you did six months ago. You're  fired. The check is in the mail." She slammed the receiver down and  turned her attention to the mobile.

"Sorry, Mr. Landry, but my nerves are stretched thin. If hired, you'll be my fourth P.I."

"Call me Miles, please.  I've looked over all the files you sent me and I'm going to be honest.   I'm not sure she's still alive. I know that's hard to hear, but when  she disappeared, you reported it as a kidnapping, but they ever made no ransom demand. And since there was no sign of forced entry or a  struggle, the cops labeled her a runaway. Her being an adult  pretty  much tied their hands."

Marion clicked a  perfectly manicured nail against the receiver. "I understand, but  either way, I need closure. Even though she's not my child, I love her  and need to know what happened. I owe that to her father, and I can't  bear the thought of my sweet girl's remains abandoned somewhere, with  no proper burial." Marion took a staggering breath. "If she is...  gone,  I want to lay her to rest beside her dad. Only that will give me  peace. Do you grasp what I'm saying?"

"Yes, ma'am. I just want you to understand the results might not be what you expect."

"Mr. Landry... Miles,  I've lived with this for a long time, and not given up hope of finding   her alive, but I realize there is a chance she  won't be. You'll see  from the previous reports, she's not a stable girl. If she ran  away, and I'm not convinced she did, it's because she suffered some  type of psychological break. She worshiped her father and his death  devastated her. Can you promise me you'll find her no matter what?"

"Like I told you earlier, in all my years with the FBI, I never failed to close a case, and I don't intend to start now."

Uh oh. Zoyas stepmother is closing in.

TEASER: "Oh my gosh, is he after you?"