Her mother would never love her, and Rachel would only be stripping an old lady of a defense mechanism that had probably kept her sane.

“He sets high standards, darling, and gets so disappointed when we don’t follow them.”

“Getting drunk occasionally doesn’t make your father an alcoholic. He works hard and needs to vent.”

“Oh, I always bruise easily. Goodness, I’m so clumsy.”

And when the injuries were too obvious to laugh off: “Darling, I’m not feeling well, I’m staying in bed for a couple of days. You look after your father.”

Her father. The town councilor, the church elder, the treasurer of the Rotary Club, the manager of a bank…the great bloke. And in public, he always was.

The answering machine picked up.

“Rachel, I’m disappointed in you, but not surprised,” said her mother. “If you’d listened to Gerard and me none of this would be necessary.” She hung up with a disapproving click.

Almost immediately, the phone rang again, the library’s number. Trixie had promised to ring if she heard from Mark. Rachel snatched up the phone. But the news only ratcheted her tension.

“What’s the address?”

“Yeah, that’s why I phoned…” As soon as the call ended, Rachel ran to get her car keys. To hell with a hands-off policy.

The front door of her son’s apartment was open. Without giving herself time for second thoughts she tapped on it. “Mark?” Stepping inside, Rachel stalled.

Devin was checking through discarded papers on the dining room table. Instinctively, she took a couple of steps toward him.

“Trixie said you were coming.” He didn’t glance up from what he was doing. “Mark’s not here, Rachel. He hasn’t been here for a few days.”

Pressure tightened like a vise around her lungs, making it difficult to breathe. “Not here…then where?”

“I don’t know.” He gestured in frustration. “No one does, which is why I’m searching this place for clues.”

“He went to see my mother in Hamilton on Monday.” She started speaking faster and faster. “She told him that she and Dad didn’t want to give him up for adoption. If no one’s seen him since then-”

“He came back.” Devin picked up the newspaper spread across the dining table in front of him. “This is Tuesday morning’s paper. Wednesday’s and Thursday’s were still on the doormat along with his mail. It looks like some clothes are missing from his closet and there’s no sign of his guitar. If he’s taken that, he’s still okay.”

She absorbed the news and tried to think. “Is there anyone else he’d confide in, someone else he’d go to?”

“In Auckland, there was only Trixie and me.” His tone held no accusation, no hint of rebuke, though they both knew she was to blame for this. His boots echoed on the linoleum as Devin entered the kitchenette. “I’m hoping he left a note for his cousin somewhere.”

The internal vise wound tighter. “Why don’t you just tell me it’s my fault?”

“Because it won’t help find him.”

He was right. Rachel got a grip on herself. “Did you check his cousin’s bedroom?”

“Only scanned it. Take a closer look while I search in here.”

About to head in the direction he indicated, Rachel hesitated. “If I’d listened to you, or at least left you out of it, Mark would have had someone to turn to. I’m…sorry, Devin. For everything. You always had our best interests at heart.”

“Apology accepted.” Devin’s expression was opaque; he’d completely withdrawn from her. Rachel shivered.

She searched Suzy’s room but didn’t find anything on the dresser or the bedside tables. About to leave, she glimpsed the corner of a white envelope poking out from under one of many pillows and bolsters piled on the double bed.

The envelope was addressed to his parents. A Post-it note attached to it read “Suz, please post this to Mom and Dad. Rent’s paid until the 25th. You shouldn’t have trouble finding another flatmate. Mark.”

She must have made a sound because suddenly Devin was with her. Sitting her on the bed, he took the note from her nerveless fingers and read it. Then without hesitation, he ripped open the envelope and scanned the contents.

Rachel cleared her throat. “What does it say?”

“‘Dear Mom and Dad, I guess I should have told you I was looking for my birth mother. Well, I found her.’ There are a couple of lines scribbled out hard…he obviously doesn’t want anyone deciphering them.” Devin held the letter up to the light from the window and she saw that his hand, with its dragon tongue flicking across his knuckles, shook. Maybe it was the same tremor of exhaustion as hers. But Rachel didn’t have time to wonder why he hadn’t been sleeping. “I can only make out one word.” He stopped, a hard question in his eyes as he looked at her. “‘Rejected.’”

“My mother told him I didn’t want…” She shook her head, unable to finish. Tears were a luxury she wasn’t entitled to.

Something like sympathy flashed in Devin’s eyes, then he returned to the letter. “‘I know you’re going to be disappointed but I really need some time by myself to figure out…’ He’s crossed out ‘who I am’ and replaced it with ‘stuff.’” Devin frowned. “ I will call, I promise, hopefully even before Suz comes back from Dubai and you get this letter. Don’t worry, I have a job lined up already. Love, Mark.’ His cousin isn’t due back for another three days,” Devin explained, “so he’s not expecting his parents to get this until next week.”

Devin frowned as a preposterous idea came to him. He pulled his cell out of his pocket. Zander had left a couple of messages in the night, which he hadn’t had a chance to return. Trying not to get his hopes up-surely Mark wasn’t that credulous-he rang his brother, turning to the window because he couldn’t bear to look at Rachel suffering. Didn’t want to be moved by it.

“Thank God,” said Zander by way of greeting. “When I arrived home yesterday I found Mark on my doorstep. Apparently I told him I’d give him a job. I would cut him loose but he’s like a goddamn puppy that’s been kicked too many times.”

“Don’t! The last thing he needs is more rejection,” Devin declared. Behind him, he heard Rachel gasp. “Keep him busy until I get there and don’t, whatever you do, tell him I called.” Devin snapped his cell shut and turned, trying to ignore the dark shadows under Rachel’s eyes. She’d brought this on herself. “He’s safe.”

Still sitting on the bed, she dropped her head in her hands. Her long dark hair, normally glossy and thick, hung limp. “Thank God…oh, thank God.”

Devin couldn’t doubt the sincerity of her affection for her son. Grudgingly, he added, “He’s with Zander in L.A.”

She lifted her face, startled. “Why would he go there?”

Devin filled her in on Zander’s throwaway invitation to Mark. “I’m going to get him.”

Her throat convulsed as she stood up. “I know you hate me but-”

“Yes,” he interrupted. Rachel flinched. Did she really think he could switch her off so easily? Irritated, he finished his sentence. “You can come, too.”

But I haven’t forgiven you.

RACHEL HADN’T THOUGHT about getting to L.A. beyond packing a bag and grabbing her passport. Devin had said he’d organize the flights, which she’d assumed meant traveling on a commercial jet. So it was a shock when he told her to drive her car past the international departure terminal at Auckland Airport in favor of a smaller terminal where a narrow-bodied Boeing Business Jet was being readied for takeoff, against the backdrop of a blazing West Coast sunset.

“Is that yours?” she said stupidly, pulling into the private parking lot. They’d taken her hatchback because it had a backseat, necessary for Mark. Devin had conceded when she’d made that argument. She hoped he wasn’t humoring her.

“Yes, but more often than not it’s subleased to other customers. Because of the short notice, we’re sharing it today, but I’ve commandeered the bedroom for you-you need sleep.” She stepped into the customs and immigration building, instinctively raising a hand to shade her gritty eyes from the bright lights and well aware she looked terrible.