Karen Whiddon’s story of abduction in the Lone Star state will have your pulse racing!

Every time Brock McCauley locks eyes with Zoe Onella, his heart aches. Though Zoe explains why she skipped town, leaving him at the altar years ago, Brock refuses to go down that road again. After all, she’s only back in Anniversary, Texas, to help investigate the bizarre disappearance of her best friend, Shayna.

The sooner they find Shayna, the sooner Zoe can return to New York. But Brock can’t stop thinking about the hot passion they once shared. And when danger surrounds Zoe, he must protect the only woman he’s ever loved. Even if it costs him everything.

“We’re still no closer to finding her than we were before,” Brock said.

The maddening hint of arrogance in his profile should have angered Zoe. Instead, she wanted to reach across the desk and kiss him.

What was wrong with her?

Getting up, she moved slowly to the door, careful not to look at Brock, stunned at the sheer strength of the simmering desire she felt for him. Her body ached for his touch, filling her entire being with a fierce and urgent wanting. Even now, when every ounce of her focus should be on finding her friend.

She’d already lost so much when she’d had to leave town—her fiancé, her family, her friends and her home. She couldn’t bear losing Shayna, too.

Brock didn’t call after her or follow her, and even though she hadn’t expected him to, she told herself she was glad. What had she expected? Nothing she was learning about Shayna added up.

Zoe needed to regain her objectivity about Brock, and about Shayna, too. Until her friend was found—alive or…God help her…dead.

Dear Reader,

Though I’m a native New Englander and grew up in New York and Colorado, I’m an honorary Texan. I’ve lived in this big-hearted state for more years than I want to admit and have come to love and admire the people. They are justifiably proud to be Texans. I love setting books in the Lone Star state, especially in the fictional town of Anniversary.

In addition to small towns, I love a good homecoming story. So the idea for Texas Secrets, Lovers’ Lies was born. When my heroine, Zoe Onella, returns to the town—and the man—she’d run away from five years earlier, she is surprised to learn nothing is what it seems.

Life is like that sometimes. I personally think the little twists and turns are what keeps life interesting. And, as Zoe and Brock McCauley eventually learn, sometimes having that special someone to help navigate brings more joy than one ever could have imagined.

I hope you enjoy Texas Secrets, Lovers’ Lies. There’s murder and mayhem, secrets, half-truths and lies. There also is love. Because in the end, that’s the most important part of the story after all.

Sincerely,

Karen Whiddon

Texas Secrets, Lovers’ Lies

Karen Whiddon

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Karen Whiddon

started weaving fanciful tales for her younger brothers at the age of eleven. Amid the Catskill Mountains of New York, then the Rocky Mountains of Colorado, she fueled her imagination with the natural beauty that surrounded her. Karen now lives in north Texas, where she shares her life with her very own hero of a husband and three doting dogs. Also an entrepreneur, she divides her time between the business she started and writing. You can email Karen at KWhiddon1@aol.com or write to her at P.O. Box 820807, Fort Worth, TX 76182. Fans of her writing can also check out her website, www.karenwhiddon.com.

First and always, to my wonderful husband. Thanks, Lonnie, for making my dreams come true. Second, a shout-out to all the dedicated and hardworking people who volunteer in animal rescue. You work so hard and give so tirelessly of not only your time, but your wallets and purses, to help those creatures who have no voice. Hats off to you for all you do—especially you, Legacy Boxer Rescue, Inc.

Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Epilogue

Excerpt

Chapter 1

I wish you were here.

In her mind Zoe Onella replayed the last words her best friend, Shayna, had said to her before disappearing. Or maybe I could visit there. I really need you right now. The entire cross-country trip from New York to Dallas, Zoe wished she’d have probed or, even better, agreed to let Shayna visit.

Instead, she’d rushed Shayna off the phone so she could meet a couple of friends for happy hour. And then, two weeks later, the next phone call had been from Shayna’s mother, Mama Bell, worried because she couldn’t locate her daughter. Mama had actually believed Shayna might have been with Zoe.

With guilt churning inside her, Zoe collected her luggage and stepped outside. The scorching air blasted her like a furnace. Ah, yes. Dallas was still the same as she remembered. Hot and miserable. She slipped on her dark glasses before she looked around for her ride.

No one on the sidewalk even looked familiar. Which was odd, since Mama Bell had promised to send someone to collect her. Fine. Squaring her shoulders, Zoe hefted her suitcase and began the trek to the cab area, lifting her chin and making her stride confident despite the towering heels she wore. This was her New York persona, one she planned to hang on to while here in Texas, to remind herself of the person she’d become.

She could handle this. Would handle it, exactly as she’d done a hundred times before at home in the city. So what if the cab fare from DFW to Anniversary would be outrageous?

“Zoe,” called a voice—deep, masculine and unforgettably familiar. The sound of it reached inside her, echoing old longings. “Over here.”

She stiffened. Brock McCauley. The one person from her past she didn’t want to see. Not now. Not ever.

For the space of a heartbeat, she debated pretending not to have heard him and striding down the sidewalk as fast as she could. Away from him. Just like before. Instead, she took a deep breath, pasted her best “I am all business” smile on her face, and turned to face the man she’d practically left at the altar long ago.

The instant she saw him, all the jangling noise inside of her went still. He looked the same—tall and broad shouldered, blond hair cut in the same sexy-shaggy cut. As his piercing blue eyes met hers, her entire being vibrated. Though her heart hammered out a welcome, she schooled her expression to nothing but pleasant surprise.

The man she’d once needed with every fiber of her being wasn’t the one she wanted now.

“Mrs. Bell sent me to pick you up,” he said. His blank expression let her know he took no enjoyment in the task. She nodded, unable to summon up a response. After all, what did one say to a man after you’d broken his heart?

He led the way to his truck, a new Chevrolet painted shiny red. She flashed back five years to his beat-up old pickup, which had also been red, remembering the way they’d celebrated their love in his front seat.

As her face warmed in a blush, she climbed up into the cab and turned away, pretending a sudden interest in everything outside her window. Guilt be damned. She had nothing to say to him, nothing at all.

Everything that had happened between them was in the past. She refused to look back.

Brock started the truck and they began the long drive from DFW Airport to Anniversary. Keeping his gaze on the road, Brock apparently felt no need to fill the awkward silence with meaningless words. She appreciated that, also unable to give voice to the thoughts taunting her. Might-have-beens that could never be. All they had in common now was Shayna, the only reason Zoe had returned.

Still, they had to speak eventually, didn’t they? About Shayna. Especially since Zoe’s former fiancé and best friend lived together and planned to marry.

Life in small-town Anniversary had gone on just fine without Zoe. Her gut reaction after Mrs. Bell’s frantic phone call had been to panic. She’d been standing by the window in her Manhattan apartment, watching the traffic below do its thing, the same as it did every morning. The hustle and bustle of other people starting their day had always fascinated her. The gray sky promised rain, which meant outside would be muggy and a sticky, frizzy hair day. And then the phone call from the woman Zoe considered her mother, saying Shayna had disappeared and asking Zoe if her daughter was with her. Apparently, Shayna had mentioned she was planning a visit.

When Zoe had told Mama Bell no, her answer had been greeted by silence. She sensed she’d dashed Shayna’s mother’s last hope. And Zoe thought back to the last conversation she’d had with her best friend, wishing she’d paid better attention.

Though Mama Bell hadn’t come out and asked, Zoe knew she was needed back home. She’d instantly volunteered to fly to Texas and sort things out.

In all the years since Mrs. Bell had taken Zoe under her wing, raising her with as much love as if blood bound them together, she’d never asked for anything.

She didn’t have to ask this time.

Though Zoe hadn’t actually seen Shayna since she’d left, and even though they’d lost that best friend need to talk every day, they’d still spoken occasionally by phone. In her heart of hearts, Zoe knew the connection was as strong and unbroken as if they were actual sisters.

Even when Brock and Shayna had gotten together and Shayna had tentatively asked Zoe if she minded, Zoe had tried to be happy for the two of them. In the tangled mess her leaving had created, someone should be happy. Truth be told, she’d missed Shayna and actually welcomed a chance to see her again. Brock, however, was another story. Zoe had never gotten over the agony or the guilt of practically leaving him at the altar.

She’d missed Anniversary, she realized. It would always be home, the place where she’d grown up. If only the town didn’t hold so many dark, bloodstained memories. Here, in a dark alley behind a seedy bar, a younger Zoe had watched her mother die.

Glancing again at Brock, she wondered how he was dealing with Shayna’s disappearance. After Zoe vanished on him five years ago, this must feel like a twist of the knife. She ached for him, even as she tried not to feel anything at all.

Did she want to know? Was it relevant to figuring out where Shayna had gone? More uncomfortable than she’d been in ages, Zoe tried to figure out the best way to ask.

While she considered, after clearing his throat, Brock brought up the subject first, still not making eye contact, instead focusing on his driving.

“Now that we’re face-to-face again,” he said. “Why don’t you tell me why you left?”

Dread filled her even though rationally she knew he had a right to know. He deserved an explanation, or at least part of one. Five years had passed, after all. “When my mother was killed in that alley behind her favorite bar, I was there. She’d called me, drunk, and asked me to meet her. When I got to the scene, it turned out her drug dealer was also there, and she owed him money.”

Though her voice broke, she continued. “She’d told him I’d bring that money. When I didn’t, he slit her throat. Right in front of me.” Remembered horror made her shudder.

His steady gaze stayed on her, but he made no move to touch her. “I knew about her murder, but not that you were there. Why didn’t you tell me? I would have helped you.”

“That’s just it. I couldn’t. Not only did he give me twenty-four hours to get the money, he told me if I didn’t, he’d find me and kill everyone I held dear.” She took a deep breath.

“At first, I ran because I was in fear for my life. Later, I was messed up. Seeing such a thing...I couldn’t handle...”

“Me?” he asked, sounding wounded, his grip tight on the steering wheel. “You couldn’t handle me?”

“We were so young, Brock. And you kept pushing to get married. It was too much. So I stayed in New York.” Even after all this time, her voice shook. There was more, but she wouldn’t tell him the rest of it.

“So you ran and then kept running, from this town, from your friends and your family, and from me.” No emotion in his voice. No condemnation or sympathy, disbelief or commiseration.

Oddly enough, this gave her strength. “Yes.”

Expression like granite, he didn’t respond.

“Tell me about you and Shayna,” she said, breaking the silence. After Shayna had confessed to Zoe that she’d always had a thing for Brock, Zoe’d spent months trying to adjust to the idea that her best friend had gotten together with her former fiancé.

“Shayna was moving out,” he said, the bluntness of his words matching his unemotional tone. “These past few months have been...difficult for both of us.”

Trying to hide her shock, Zoe stiffened. For the past few months, every time she’d talked to Shayna, her friend had been full of cheerful plans about her and Brock’s upcoming wedding. Until the final phone call, when she’d clearly reached out to Zoe for help and Zoe had been too self-absorbed to notice. “Moved out? What happened? I thought you two were getting married?”

Now he looked at her, not bothering to hide his shock. “Shayna and I never even discussed marriage.”

Not wanting to betray her friend’s confidence, Zoe simply nodded. Right now, it was more important to find Shayna. After, they could straighten everything else out.

“When did you last see her?” Zoe asked.

Brock sighed, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel as he drove. “It’s been a few days. This past Friday, we discussed her moving out, and I offered to help find her a place to live. She went out that night with her friend Cristine and never came back home.”

Again she nodded, as though none of what he said came as a complete surprise when, in fact, she was stunned. Did Brock know more about Shayna’s disappearance than he was saying?

“Where do you think she’s gone?” she finally asked, even as she knew she wouldn’t be here if the answer were as simple as Shayna telling her fiancé where she’d be for the next few days.

He shook his head. “I have no idea. I’ve been trying to reach her. So have her parents and her friends. She hasn’t shown up for work and her cell phone is turned off.”

At least he and Shayna’s mother were telling the same story since Shayna had disappeared. But was he the one who’d provided this set of facts?

“She’ll come back,” Zoe said, speaking with a confidence she wanted badly to feel. “She’s probably just taking a break from everything. As soon as she finds out I’m in town, she’ll make contact.”

“You think so?” His tone told her how unlikely he found that possibility. But then, he didn’t know what Shayna had said the last time she and Zoe talked.

No matter. “She has to,” she replied, hoping it would be true. The alternative was unthinkable, that Shayna Bell had truly gone missing. If that was the case, who knew what might have happened to her then.

Inwardly, Zoe winced. She could only pray that the darkness of her past, after so many years, hadn’t caught up with her best friend. Surely not. The killer was still in prison and appeared to have totally forgotten the young woman he’d threatened to kill. As far as he knew, there was no connection between Zoe and Shayna. On top of that, Shayna wouldn’t make the kind of foolish choices that would place her in harm’s way.

Silence fell again. Odd, between two people who’d never been at a loss for words. Of course, that was in the past, before Zoe had set fire to every bridge that tied her to people she’d loved in Anniversary. Now, Zoe couldn’t blame him for wanting to ignore her.

Weirdly though, with Brock she’d expected...more. Accusations, finger-pointing, something reminiscent of the passion that had once blazed between them.

Of course, five years had passed. There was no passion left. He’d gotten over her by now, just as she’d...refused to let herself even think about him. At first, doing so had hurt too badly. Later, she’d bowed to the inevitable and tried with all her iron will to move on.

As had he. When Shayna had called Zoe, her voice full of a tentative sort of joy, to ask if she minded the two of them dating, Zoe hadn’t hesitated to tell her friend not at all. Grab happiness with both hands and don’t let it go, she’d urged Shayna. After all, that was how Zoe had learned to live her life in the big city.

Life went on. Old hurts, old loves, while never completely forgotten, were buried, moved past. There was no reason at all now why she and Brock couldn’t be civil. After all, they both wanted the same thing—Shayna to be found safe.

As the silence dragged on, Zoe snuck a glance or two at Brock, reminded of his old nickname—Brock the Rock. Judging from the size of his biceps and the breadth of his chest, he hadn’t given up lifting weights. He would have been able to protect Shayna if he’d been in their home when someone came for her, but more personal thoughts tried to break Zoe’s focus on her missing friend. She’d never been able to picture Brock and Shayna together—they hadn’t even seemed to like each other back when Zoe and Brock had been an item.

“Why?” she asked, finally breaking the silence. “Why was Shayna moving out?”

“That’s kind of personal,” he replied lightly, still staring straight ahead. “And none of your business.”

That hurt more than she’d expected. Still... “Maybe it isn’t, right now,” she replied. “But if the reason has something to do with her disappearance, you’d better believe I’ll ask you again.”

“Fair enough.” This time, he swiveled his head to face her. His blue eyes flashed sparks, causing heat to flare low in her belly. This, she squashed with the ease of years of practice. She might not have been able to completely forget him, but she had managed to stop loving him a long time ago.

A few minutes later he exited the highway and the streets began to look more and more familiar, making her sit up straighter. She hadn’t been back at all since she’d fled everything and everyone as though pursued by demons.

She might as well have been. She’d changed everything about herself, from her hair color and cut to the way she dressed and spoke. She’d worked hard to lose her Texas drawl, adopting a hint of a Midwest accent, so no one would realize where she was from. These days, though, she looked much the same as she used to, albeit with a much more expensive haircut.

Originally, Zoe had planned to return. To apologize to Brock, explain what had happened, and step right back into the life she’d been destined to have. Especially since she’d learned, a few weeks after leaving, that she was pregnant.

She’d lost the baby in the first trimester. That had been bad enough, but she’d learned that the endometriosis and the horrible scarring to her fallopian tubes meant she would never be able to have children. She’d realized then, in the middle of her grief, that she could never go back to Brock or to her old life.

It had taken this, Shayna’s disappearance, to bring her back home. Back to the place she’d grown up, where most of her happy memories had been replaced with dark and bloody ones.

She shivered. Had she honestly believed she’d never have to revisit Anniversary?

And this. Confronting Brock McCauley—the man she’d left—again hadn’t figured into her plan. Of course, never in her wildest dreams would she have imagined Shayna would go missing and she’d have to return home to try to find her.

As for facing Brock—what had she thought? He’d been engaged to her best friend and Anniversary wasn’t a large town. She’d been bound to run into him eventually. The past always found a way to catch up. She only hoped the rest of it—the stuff of nightmares part—stayed away.

As they pulled up in front of the white brick ranch house where she’d been raised by a family that wasn’t her own, Zoe felt her tension ease. Staring, she inhaled. Swamped by a wave of nostalgia so strong it clogged her throat, to her surprise she found herself blinking back tears.

As if he sensed this, Brock cleared his throat. “Are you okay?”

Crap. Temporarily unable to speak, she nodded, careful to keep her face averted. Showing emotion would reveal weakness, and she couldn’t have that. Not with him. Especially not with him.

One second, then another ticked by before she got herself under control. “I’m good,” she said, her brisk, self-assured tone giving credence to the lie. Shoulders back, she pushed open the door and climbed out of the truck.

With her head high, she started up the sidewalk, noting the neatly maintained flowers lining it—that much hadn’t changed—and her world began to slip back toward the past. She pushed aside her worry and picked up her pace as the front door opened.

“Zoe!” Mama Bell appeared, her plump arms open wide. She still smelled the same—of freshly baked cookies. Her curly hair might be grayer now, but she still wore it in a long ponytail.

Zoe flung herself into the other woman’s hug—her mama, she told herself fiercely. No matter that they weren’t related by blood. After all, Mrs. Bell had stepped in and raised Zoe when her real mother had gone to jail. Even after, when Zoe’s mother had been released and wanted her back, Zoe had spent more time at the Bells’ than in the cramped apartment her mother called home.

Actually, Zoe had come to rely on the Bell family long before her drug-addicted mother had been killed. Ever since Zoe’d met a five-year-old Shayna in kindergarten and the two girls had become best friends Mrs. Bell had recognized Zoe’s desperate need for family and love and had welcomed her as if she was one of her own. Zoe had called her Mama Bell ever since.

“Come inside,” Mama Bell managed, openly crying. “Oh, I’m so glad you could make it home.” Catching sight of Brock, the older woman brightened. “Brock, don’t just stand there like a stranger. Get on in here, too.”

But Brock shook his head. Zoe wasn’t surprised. “I’ve got to head back to the store,” he said. “Take care, Mrs. Bell.” His carefully blank gaze touched on Zoe briefly before he dipped his head and climbed back into his pickup.

Zoe watched as he drove away. Then, allowing Mama Bell to shepherd her into the living room, she soaked in the familiar chintz furniture and floral-scented candles, while the other woman closed the door and engaged the dead bolt.

“You lock up now?” she asked. In the old days, no one in Anniversary had locked their doors.

Mama Bell nodded, her expression sad. “Crime has gotten worse. Especially during tourist season, when all those city folks show up with their fancy cars and bored teenagers.”

The lake had always been a popular destination. As soon as the weather grew warm, wealthy people from Dallas, Austin and Houston headed to their huge vacation homes on the large, inviting body of clear, calm water. And then there were the weekend tourists, people who came for Saturday and Sunday, clogging up the two-lane roads and spending much-needed money, before returning to the city and their jobs, leaving their litter behind.

“Sit, sit.” Wiping at her still-streaming eyes, Mama Bell gestured at the couch. The bright floral-patterned sofa had occupied the place of honor facing the television ever since Zoe could remember. The sight of it made her heart clench. She’d come home now. This felt like—no, was home.

Chest tight, Zoe sat.

“Can I get you something to drink? Cola? Sweet tea?”

“No, thanks.” Patting the cushion next to her, Zoe tried to smile. “Please. Let’s talk. Tell me what’s been going on with Shayna.”

Mama Bell nodded and hurried over, nearly tripping over her feet in her rush to get to Zoe. Zoe noted the older woman still wore her favorite outfit, sweatpants and a T-shirt with a saying on the front—today’s advertised a restaurant in town—and brightly colored sneakers that tied it all together. Her trademark dangling earrings completed the picture.

“Don’t ever change,” Zoe said impulsively, hugging her. “You look the same as ever.”

“Thanks.” Mama Bell tried to smile. “I’ve even lost a few pounds since Shayna...” Her smile wobbled and she finally gave up and bit her lip instead.

“Tell me.” Zoe touched her arm. “I talked a little to Brock on the drive from the airport. I’d like to hear your take on what was going on with Shayna.”

“That’s just it.” Mama Bell shook her head, sending her silver earrings flying. “I have no idea. When Shayna started acting strange a few months back, I tried to talk to her about it. She got angry at me. Told me to quit trying to poke my nose into her business.”

Zoe blinked. “That doesn’t sound like Shayna.”

“I know.” Again Mama Bell’s large blue eyes welled with tears. “She and I were always so close.”

“So what happened?” Zoe leaned closer. “What made her change?”

“I don’t know.” Mama Bell actually wrung her hands. “She seemed happy enough when she moved in with Brock, but I guess the two of them were having troubles. When I asked her about it, she told me she didn’t want to discuss it.”

“Several months, you said?” Zoe couldn’t imagine. “Why didn’t you call me and let me know?”

“How could I? Shayna made it plain she felt I was being pushy. Calling you just would have made things worse. Shayna even stopped coming to Sunday suppers. To be honest, when she went missing, I didn’t even know.” She hung her head, her rounded shoulders shaking. “I hadn’t talked to my own daughter in over a month.”

Shocked, Zoe didn’t know what to say. Over a month? And Mama Bell hadn’t seen fit to call her? This stung. “I last talked to her two weeks ago,” she said, keeping her voice gentle. “Our usual phone call. She told me she and Brock were engaged.”

“What?” Mama Bell gasped, as though in pain. “How could she have gotten engaged and not even told me?”

Zoe stroked the older woman’s arm to soothe her. “That’s the thing. Brock says they weren’t. He says they never even discussed marriage.” She took a deep breath. “He told me Shayna was moving out.”

This time, Mama Bell moaned. “Oh, Zoe. That’s the other thing. I’ve caught Shayna in quite a few outright falsehoods.”

“Do you think she lied about the wedding?” Zoe could hardly wrap her mind around that.

“She had to.” Mama frowned. “Brock wouldn’t lie. That man’s never done anything but told the truth.” She sighed. “I’m so worried. I don’t know what to do.”

“We’ll get through it together,” Zoe said. “What about the police? Have you contacted them?”

“Yes, of course. But since Shayna’s been telling everyone in town that she wanted to leave, their hands are tied. The sheriff did add her to the Missing Person’s Database. Brock let Shayna’s father look through her bank records and there was nothing out of the ordinary. But she hasn’t used her cell phone since she vanished.”

Biting her lip, Zoe tried to think. “And the last time she was seen? Brock said he saw her this past Friday.”

Mama Bell nodded. “She and Cristine went out. The two of them have been doing that a lot lately. Hanging out in bars, dating strange men. I know she’s a grown woman, but I’ve been worried sick.”

Zoe didn’t blame her. None of this sounded at all like the Shayna she knew. “Anything you can tell me about her behavior will help.”

“She was jumpy. Nervous, always looking out the window.”

“Do you think she was on something?”

“I... No.” Mama Bell stood and crossed her arms. “I think she was afraid,” she finally said. “Zoe, she told me what happened to your mother and how you got messed up in it. Even though the man responsible is still in prison, I think she was scared the same thing might happen to her.”

Chapter 2

Ever since Shayna vanished, Brock had felt unsettled. Guilty, too, as if he’d failed her. After all, she’d been living with him. He’d always tried to watch out for her as best as he could. He’d been the person she’d call if she was going to be late home and vice versa.

Even though their relationship hadn’t worked out, he considered himself an honorable man. He’d tried to do right by her, lately more like a friend than a lover, a relationship status on which they’d both agreed.

Though he was understandably worried, he knew Shayna better than most. He didn’t really believe she was missing. Given her new lifestyle, she’d probably met someone and taken off for a little private recreation vacation. This disappearance was so like her—or maybe more like the person she’d become these past few months. He barely even recognized her. Though he’d tried to tell himself it wasn’t his fault, Shayna had completely changed after Brock told her he could never love her the way she deserved to be loved.

To say she’d gone wild would be an understatement. She’d gone from a careful, studious, at-the-library-every-weekend woman into a let’s-do-a-pub-crawl-every-Friday partyer. In addition to dressing like a streetwalker, she’d changed her hair to some spiky, vibrant color not found in nature and caked on the makeup so heavily she was nearly unrecognizable. No matter what happened between them romantically, they’d always been good friends, at least since Zoe had left. These days, they didn’t even have that. He didn’t like the woman she’d become.

Shayna didn’t care what he thought. She and her friend Cristine Haywood had become thick as thieves. Long before announcing her plan to move out, Shayna had taken to vanishing immediately after work on Friday, refusing to answer her cell and finally straggling in late Sunday afternoon, looking as if she’d spent the entire weekend in a drunk tank.

At first he’d worried, but even attempting to broach the subject had made Shayna react with out-of-proportion anger. She’d thrown things, screamed, cursed and generally carried on so loudly he’d figured the neighbors must have thought he beat her.

Finally, he’d simply told her he was there if she needed to talk and left her alone. She was a grown woman, after all. And he wasn’t her keeper.

He figured this disappearance, though much longer than her usual disappearing weekends, was the latest stunt. A means of getting attention. Because if there was one thing Shayna thrived on these days, attention would be it.

He also didn’t believe Cristine when she claimed to have no idea where her new best friend had gone. He’d talked to Mama Bell, and Shayna’s mother had conveyed her own worries over the changes in her daughter’s behavior. Evidently the older woman had grown so concerned that she’d called Zoe Onella. And now even Zoe had returned to town to try to help, though he had no idea why. As far as he could tell, Shayna and Zoe hadn’t been chummy since Zoe took off five years ago.

Zoe was one person he would have preferred to have gone the rest of his life without seeing again. How in the hell she still had the power to make his heart clench, he didn’t understand.

When she’d left, mere weeks before their wedding, his hurt had blossomed into hate. This had sustained him through the dark nights when, more than once, he’d found himself looking into the bottom of a bottle. Gradually, the hate had faded, though the pain had never left him. He’d convinced himself he was over her, tried like hell to make himself forget.

Then he’d seen her striding through the airport, her long-legged beauty taking his breath from him.

That image was still burned on his mind. He knew when he closed his eyes to try to sleep later, he’d only see her impossibly long-lashed brown eyes staring at him as if she didn’t know him. Had he truly been so easy to forget?

“Hey, Brock.” Ted Williams sauntered into the feed store, his red tractor cap turned backward. “Cristine asked me to put these up.” He slid a paper across the counter. “Is it all right if I hang one up in your store?”

A photograph of Shayna stared up at him. Her bright smile and windblown hair proved it had obviously been taken in better times. Brock grabbed the paper and read. “Cristine wants to be in charge of the search?”

Ted shrugged. “No one else is doing anything. Even the police don’t really think she’s disappeared. What could it hurt?”

The bell over the door tinkled, saving him from answering. When he saw who’d come into the feed store, his gut clenched. Marshall Bell, Shayna’s father.

Before Brock could tell Ted to put the paper away, Mr. Bell caught sight of his daughter’s photo. Immediately, he looked ill. All the color leached from his face. He opened his mouth as if to say something, then closed it and wiped his hand across his lips. “Brock,” he managed, and then had to clear his throat. “I’d like a word.”

Brock nodded, glancing at Ted, who apparently chose not to take the hint and continued standing there. “Alone?” Brock asked, more to clarify things than anything else.

“Please,” Mr. Bell rasped.

Still Todd didn’t move, as though his feet had grown roots.

“Todd?” Brock prodded him with his elbow. “Do you mind?”

Looking disappointed, Todd finally shuffled away.

“What’s with him?” Mr. Bell grumbled. “Was he one of Shayna’s new boyfriends?” Then, realizing he was talking to the man who’d lived with his daughter, he appeared contrite. “Sorry, son,” he said, squeezing Brock’s shoulder. “No harm meant.”

Grimacing, Brock nodded. He still hadn’t gotten used to people making comments to him about Shayna. Her sudden disappearance made everyone in town think it was all right to say just about anything to the man she’d been cheating on. He could only imagine what kind of remarks they made to her parents.

Mr. Bell looked left and then right. Besides him and Brock, there were three other people in the feed store. Brock’s sister Eve, who worked part-time at the store while attending junior college, Todd, and Anna Perilli, who raised Arabian horses. She was looking at bits and bridles, so she would be all right for a few minutes by herself.

“Come with me,” Brock said, leading Mr. Bell toward his cramped office. The room remained exactly the way it had been when Brock’s father had occupied it, with the exception of a hanging wall calendar that Brock changed out every year.

Once inside, Brock closed the door and indicated a chair across from his at the desk. “Have a seat.”

Sighing heavily, Mr. Bell sat. “I’m worried about my daughter,” he said.

“I understand.” His fingers steepled in front of him, Brock waited to see what else the other man had to say.

“What do you think?” Mr. Bell peered at him with bloodshot eyes. “Do you think our Shayna just ran away?”

Our Shayna. On the verge of telling the truth, Brock hesitated then decided not to. No sense in hurting Shayna’s father any more than he had to. “I honestly don’t know, Mr. Bell.”

“Call me Marshall,” the other man said, surprising Brock. He’d known Mr. Bell his entire life and never addressed him by his first name.

“I’ll try,” he said, meaning it. “Though I might forget. Force of habit. As far as Shayna leaving, I don’t know.” He took a deep breath, aware his next words would probably be a shock. “Marshall, did Shayna tell you that she and I were breaking up? She was planning to move out of the apartment soon.”

Marshall recoiled, clearly stunned. “I suspected that would happen. Do you have any idea where she was planning to live?”

“She was talking about moving in with Cristine,” Brock said, dodging a direct answer. “Those two had gotten to be pretty good friends.”

“Cristine.” The other man’s voice conveyed his disgust. “I wish she and Shayna had never started hanging around together. She’s nothing but a bad influence on my baby girl.”

Again Brock had to bite his tongue. He was of the opinion that Shayna and Cristine egged each other on. Who was the worse influence, he couldn’t tell. He really believed they sort of fed on each other’s energy.

Suddenly, he realized Shayna’s father was eyeing him with suspicion, making him wonder what his expression had inadvertently revealed.

Torn between wanting to laugh or simply shake his head, Brock decided the direct approach would be best. “Despite the fact that our relationship was over and her plans to move out, I bore no malice toward Shayna, I assure you,” he said. “I promise you I had nothing to do with her disappearance.”

Instead of appearing relieved, Mr. Bell narrowed his eyes. “That’s a strange thing for you to say. I never accused you of anything like that.”

“No, you didn’t. But I wanted to set your mind at ease in case you were wondering.”

“I wasn’t.” Mr. Bell sighed heavily. With apparent difficulty, he focused on Brock again. “But I know you. I’m certain you’d never do anything to hurt my daughter.”

“Thanks.”

“How are you doing with all this?”

Surprised, Brock shrugged. “I can’t help but think Shayna will be found when she wants to be found.”

Marshall cocked his shorn gray head. “I didn’t mean about that. I’m talking about your former fiancée. Zoe’s back in town. Though I’m not sure why, my wife seems to think if anyone can find Shayna, Zoe can.”

Brock shrugged. “I don’t care either way what Zoe does. That relationship was over long ago.” As far as Zoe being able to find Shayna, anything was possible. Though Shayna had lately made a big effort to prove she didn’t care about anything or anyone, Brock figured maybe Zoe would prove the exception.

“Apparently, the two of them have kept in touch all this time,” Marshall continued. “My wife even thought maybe Shayna took off to go visit Zoe.”

“I see,” Brock said, though he really didn’t. He hadn’t even known Shayna and Zoe still talked to each other these days. Shayna had said Zoe’d been backing away, abandoning her friendship the same way she’d deserted him.

Marshall nodded, his faded brown gaze far away.

Though Brock understood the older man’s concern and worry for his only daughter, his intuition told him that this roundabout conversation wasn’t the entire reason Mr. Bell had come to see him. He checked his watch. “I’m sorry, but I’ve got to get back to work. Is there anything else I can do for you?”

The other man nodded, a muscle in his cheek working. “I’m leaving,” he blurted. “Tomorrow.”

Stunned, Brock wasn’t sure how to respond. “You’re leaving? What do you mean?”

“I’m leaving Mrs. Bell, Anniversary, everything.” He waved his hand vaguely. “All of this is way too painful. I can’t take it anymore.”

“But what about your wife?” Brock sputtered. “She’s already hurting over Shayna’s disappearance. Think about what this will do to her.”

The other man’s face seemed to close in on itself. “I have thought of that, believe me. But I can’t help thinking it will hurt her worse if I stay.”

“Worse? How can it be worse than that? And what about when Shayna comes back? How’s she going to feel when she finds her daddy has taken off?”

“If Shayna comes back,” Marshall said, his voice full of the same weariness revealed by his rounded shoulders and defeated posture. “As to that, I can’t help but feel if she didn’t care enough to say goodbye, what will it matter to her who’s here when she returns? Look after them for me, will you?”

He waved away any comment Brock might have attempted to make. Moving laboriously, as though he’d aged twenty years in the space of minutes, he gave Brock a bleak smile.

“Why are you telling me this?” Brock asked as he followed him to the door.

“Because you care,” Mr. Bell said. “I have to let someone know, and you’re the closest thing I have to a son. As far as I can tell, you might be the only one holding this family together by the time all of this is over.”

Those words haunted him. For the rest of the afternoon, as he loaded pickup trucks with bags of feed, sold bridles and bits, hay and birdseed, Brock tried to figure out what the hell Mr. Bell was thinking. If he did leave, the fallout would be tremendous. Poor Mrs. Bell, who was one of the nicest, kindest women in town. She would be devastated.

And Zoe? She considered the Bells her family. Mr. Bell was the closest thing to a father she’d ever had. How would she take his desertion?

Just like that, the old pain came roaring back. Zoe’d left him, and he’d foolishly believed he’d recovered. Now he realized what he’d done was survive, nothing more. And despite the fact that his and Shayna’s relationship hadn’t worked out, he didn’t understand how she could do the exact same thing. To him or to her family. And now this. Marshall Bell was beating a fast track out of town.

Wherever she’d gone, Shayna needed to come home now. If she didn’t, she might return to Anniversary some day and find she had nothing left to come back for.

The rest of the afternoon dragged. After finally turning the Open sign to Closed, Brock locked up the feed store and tried to decide whether he wanted to grab some fast food for dinner or cook something himself.

Or he could make another trip to the sheriff’s office and see if there was anything else they could do to help find Shayna. He’d been there several times already, as had Mama Bell. He’d learned that adults have the right to leave without telling anyone where they are going, who they are with or why they left. According to Roger Giles, the sheriff, without evidence of foul play, they had to balance the missing person’s legal right to do what they liked and the family’s natural desire to make sure their loved one was all right.

In other words, the information would sit in a file and, beyond the occasional phone call to see if Shayna had come home, little else would be done.

While Brock didn’t like it, he could see Roger’s point.

More weary than he’d been in ages, he decided he’d figure something out on the drive home.

Instead, he found himself turning onto the Bells’ street. As he coasted to a stop in front of the neat ranch-style house, he debated whether he really wanted to go inside. Not only was Mr. Bell’s secret weighing him down, but he wasn’t sure he was up to seeing Zoe again.

The decision was taken from him when the front door opened—Mrs. Bell, heading to the mailbox to get the day’s mail. The instant she caught sight of him, she smiled and waved.

“Brock! What are you doing sitting in your truck? Come on inside. I was just about to cook up some of my famous fried chicken.” Her smile wavered slightly. “Who knows, maybe Shayna will smell it and decide to come home.”

Despite himself, his mouth watered and his stomach growled. Mrs. Bell was known all around town for her chicken. It was the best he’d ever had.

Any reservations he might have had vanished, just like that. His stomach won out. He cut the engine and pocketed the keys.

Retrieving her mail, Mrs. Bell chattered all the way up the sidewalk. Apparently, Mr. Bell hadn’t yet told his wife of his plans to leave. Brock wondered if he would.

He held the door open so Mrs. Bell could go inside.

Zoe glanced up as they entered the room. Surprise flashed across her face when she saw Brock, but almost immediately she schooled her features into an expression of polite interest. “Brock,” she said. “What are you doing here?”

“I stopped by after work to check on ya’ll, and Mrs. Bell invited me to dinner.” He kept his response equally civil. “When she mentioned she was making her chicken, I couldn’t pass it up.”

“Oh, look at this!” Mrs. Bell held up a flyer, passing it to Brock. “Looks like Cristine is having a get-together tomorrow over at the high school.”

Brock nodded, reading the leaflet quickly. Maybe if he kept himself busy while he was here, not only would he not have to wonder if Shayna had left because of him, but he also wouldn’t have to look at Zoe and wonder what might have been.

“A get-together?” Zoe’s voice jolted him out of his thoughts. “Why on earth—”

“Wrong choice of words,” Mrs. Bell said, lifting one shoulder in apology. “Cristine is calling a meeting to organize a search for our Shayna. Even if she took off on her own, maybe Cristine can help locate her.”

Closing her mouth, Zoe nodded. To Brock’s surprise, she glanced at him, almost as if seeking his opinion. The instant her vibrant brown eyes met his, he felt a slow burn begin in his blood. Did she feel it, too? How could she not?

But her glance flitted away almost as quickly, and he knew he’d been wrong. Zoe didn’t feel anything for him. She never had.

“Are you going?” Mrs. Bell asked, taking the flyer from him and passing it to Zoe.

“We’ll go,” Brock found himself saying, replying for both of them even though he had no right.

“Of course, we’ll go,” Zoe interjected. “We all want to help find Shayna as quickly as possible.”

Since there was nothing Brock could add to that, he nodded.

“Well, I’d better get busy frying up some chicken.” Mrs. Bell headed toward the kitchen.

“I’ll help,” Zoe said, letting the flyer flutter to the floor as she jumped to her feet. She hurried away, leaving him alone in the oak-paneled living room.

He picked up the flyer and read it again. While he’d never really liked Cristine, he found it commendable that she cared enough about her friend to do something to try to find her. The skeptical part of him wondered if Cristine just missed having someone to party with, but in truth, her motives didn’t matter. Finding Shayna was what mattered. Even if she had just climbed onto the back of some guy’s motorcycle, she needed to understand the worry she’d caused her family.

Again, he questioned how it could be that Shayna hadn’t at least told Cristine where she was going. The two women had been best friends, so close that Shayna had planned to move in with her.

The thought twisted his gut. This one little fact, his belief that Shayna would have clued Cristine in, worried him more than anything else.

Glancing again at Zoe, he couldn’t help but wonder how she and Cristine would get along. Both women thought of themselves as Shayna’s best friend. They couldn’t be more dissimilar, except for the fact that they both loved her.

Cocking his head, he listened to low murmur of voices as Zoe and Mrs. Bell talked in the kitchen. The sound brought back old memories. As teens and young adults, he and Zoe and Shayna had spent a good bit of their time hanging out at the Bells’ house. Partly because of Mama Bell’s amazing cooking, and partly because the place always felt warm and welcoming, Brock had come to consider it his second home.

As nostalgia filled him, he grimaced. He hadn’t even realized how much he’d missed those days. Or that part of them, at least. He was over the Zoe part. Completely.

A few minutes later, he heard the sizzle of the frying pan, and then the heavenly smell of Mama Bell’s fried chicken filled the air.

On cue, his stomach growled, making him grimace at himself. Suddenly the delectable fried chicken had become a gateway to a past he’d put behind him. Life had been...good. He had a routine, a rhythmic sameness to his days that felt soothing, and maybe just the tiniest bit boring.

Not anymore. Now that very same peaceful existence had been turned on its ear. He didn’t like change. Never had. But starting with Shayna’s abrupt disappearance, his ordinary life had been thrown into upheaval. He’d tried searching for her, just as he had for Zoe when she’d left. Both times, he’d found nothing but heartache.

Now Zoe was here. Zoe, whom he’d loved more than life itself.

And, though she had no idea, he owed her. It had been because of her prodding that he’d gone to broadcast school after graduating high school, because of her bugging him that he’d applied for an internship at a radio station in one of the largest markets in the country. He’d been accepted right after she abandoned him before their wedding. Of course, fate had other ideas. As he’d been packing to move to New York City, his father had suffered a massive heart attack and died, leaving Brock to pick up the pieces. Someone had to run the feed store and take care of his younger sister Eve, who’d only been thirteen at the time.

Reluctantly, Brock had given up his dreams. He worked occasionally on the night shift at a local country music station, when he wasn’t running the feed store. Unlike Zoe, he’d stayed right here in Anniversary, where he had family and responsibilities. His aging mother and baby sister depended on him, as did the local farmers and ranchers who relied on the feed store for their supplies.

While it wasn’t the life he’d wanted, it was the life he had. Brock believed he’d made the best of it. He’d even managed to find a sort of happiness. Or so he’d thought, until he’d seen Zoe’s face again.

He could only hope Shayna showed back up. Maybe then Zoe would go home, Mr. Bell wouldn’t feel compelled to leave, and life around Anniversary could return to normal.

Except for one thing. Seeing Zoe again had reopened that aching, empty space inside his heart, the place only she could fill. He’d managed to forget how much he missed her. Until now.

And he sure as hell didn’t like it. Not one bit.

If not for the tantalizing scent of the chicken frying, he’d have already made an excuse to leave. Instead, he was still lost in thought when Mrs. Bell reappeared in the doorway. “We’re just about ready. Are you going to join us?”

“Yes. Sorry.” He set the flyer down on the coffee table. “I was just...thinking.”

Mrs. Bell smiled sadly and touched his arm. “You miss her, too, don’t you?”

Startled, he swallowed. It took a second, but he realized she meant Shayna, not Zoe. Again, guilt squeezed his chest. Instead of answering, he ducked his head and headed toward the kitchen.

A heaping platter of perfectly golden fried chicken sat in the middle of the table. Keeping his gaze locked on that rather than Zoe, who stood at the stove stirring something, Brock took a seat. His mouth watered.

“That looks wonderful, Mrs. Bell.”

“I made rice and butter beans to go with it,” she said, glancing at her watch. “Marshall’s late. He’d better get here soon or he’s going to miss his favorite meal.”

Brock debated whether or not to mention that Marshall had been in to the feed store, but kept his mouth shut. He wasn’t running interference for the man.

Zoe moved closer, taking a seat directly across from him. He looked up, unable to help himself, and his mouth went dry. With her delicate features and full mouth, she’d always been beautiful—now she was exquisite. Her skin glowed against a soft curtain of sable hair. She was polished and fashionable in a way that only served to remind him she didn’t belong in Anniversary.

“Help yourself.” Mrs. Bell pulled out her own chair, passing Brock a bowl full of plump butter beans. “You’ll have to take a plate to Eve. Her apartment is on your way home. I know how your sister loves my fried chicken.”

“Everyone loves your fried chicken,” Zoe teased. Her lighthearted tone reminded him of the old Zoe, the one who’d spent the day at the lake with him, worn old cutoff shorts and one of his ratty T-shirts, and let the sun warm her freckled nose. Now, as far as he could tell, not a single imperfection marred her perfect, creamy skin.

“I wonder where Marshall is,” Mrs. Bell mused again. “It’s not like him to be this late without calling.”

“Try his cell,” Zoe said, wiping her hands on one of the paper napkins piled in the center of the table.

“No, that’s all right.” A shadow crossed the older woman’s face. “He’ll come home when he comes home.”

Zoe stared hard at her, then returned her attention to spooning rice and butter beans onto her plate. When she’d finished, she slid the bowls over to him, taking care not to accidentally touch his fingers.

He was glad, he told himself. Damn glad.

Silence fell while they all dug in. The crispy chicken had been cooked exactly right, and the seasoning made the flavor explode in his mouth. He had three pieces and could easily have had more, but he didn’t want to appear gluttonous.

“That was wonderful,” he said, putting down his fork and pushing his plate away. “I’m stuffed. Thank you so much for inviting me.”

“Oh, you’re welcome, dear.” Mrs. Bell looked from him to Zoe and then back. “So.” Her smile looked a bit forced, and her voice sounded overly bright. “Zoe tells me you and Shayna were splitting up.”

He glanced over at Zoe, who shrugged.

“We were.” He cleared his throat. “She was planning on moving out. I’m sorry she didn’t tell you.”

“Apparently there were a lot of things she didn’t tell me.” Her mouth twisted and for one awful minute he thought she might cry. “I just wish she’d told me where she was going, if she did leave town like everyone seems to think. She sure didn’t take an awful lot with her.”

Brock nodded. Only a few of Shayna’s clothes were missing. A weekend’s worth, both he and Cristine had estimated. Not enough to account for the amount of time she’d been away, but indicative of the fact that she hadn’t intended on returning to the apartment right away.

Zoe reached over and covered the older woman’s hand with her own. “Don’t worry, Mama Bell. We’ll find her, I promise.”

Her words had Brock clenching his jaw against the urge to tell her not to make promises she couldn’t keep. But Zoe had always been impulsive and passionate. She truly believed what she said, he could tell. And who was he to say she was wrong?

Assuming Shayna wanted to be found.

Zoe jumped to her feet. “I’ll take care of the dishes. You go and rest, Mama.”

“Oh, no. That’s not necessary.” Mrs. Bell waved her away, her expression sad. “You’re a guest in this house. You should be the one to go sit down. I imagine you and Brock have a lot of planning to do. Though I’m grateful Cristine is organizing things, I have more faith in the two of you.”

Brock watched with interest as Zoe’s blush deepened. “You did all the cooking. Now go sit. I insist,” Brock said.

Her refusal to look at him felt like a knife twisting in his gut. He knew there was more to why she’d run off, virtually leaving him at the altar, despite her partial explanation. And now she’d come back, believing he was marrying her best friend, and treated him like a stranger.

Worse, now Shayna had gone missing right after he’d broken things off between them. He, more than anyone, knew the awfulness of that.

“I’ve got to get going,” he said, pushing to his feet. “Thank you so much, Mrs. Bell. Your chicken is still the best in Texas.”

The older woman’s eyes narrowed. “Thanks, but why are you in such a hurry to run off? I thought you and Zoe could compare notes and maybe work out a plan to find Shayna.”

His chest felt tight. Careful to keep his gaze trained only on Mrs. Bell, he shook his head. “We’ll do that tomorrow, at Cristine’s thing.”

He wasn’t sure how he felt about the way she eyed him then. As if she could see his torment, knew his guilt.

“I understand.” She patted his cheek. “I’m so glad you could stay and eat.”

“Thank you again.” He couldn’t get out of there fast enough. As soon as he got home, he planned to pop a beer, make a few more phone calls trying to locate Shayna, and work on forgetting Zoe had ever come back to town.

Chapter 3

One of the bad things about having an extremely popular blog, Zoe thought, was the need to update it every single day. Though that had become easier since the blog’s advertising revenue had enabled her to quit her day job. She’d divided her site into sections, calling one “Observations,” another one “Fashion Picks,” and a third “Things I Like.”

According to her stats, most people visited the site for the “Observations” section, where she let herself go, writing about whatever topic interested her at the moment. Since she wrote City Girl anonymously, she never held back, whether writing about matters of the heart or sniping at life’s minor irritations.

About a month before Shayna disappeared, Zoe had acquired a literary agent who’d been shopping a proposal based on her blog posts for a book deal. So far they’d garnered several rejections, but the agent remained hopeful.

Zoe already had the outline finished for a second book, in case the first one sold. She was glad she’d gotten that done before Shayna disappeared.

Now she had a few hours before she had to attend Cristine’s gathering. She wrote a quick blog post, one from the heart, talking about the value of best friends and how one doesn’t always appreciate what one has until it’s gone. After she’d finished and published it, having written it with Shayna in mind, she could only hope her friend would somehow see it and come home.

Then Zoe closed her laptop and prepared to leave. Mama Bell waited in the living room, dressed and ready.

As they arrived at the time stated on the flyer, Zoe couldn’t believe the packed parking lot. She circled until she found a space, parked and then hurried around to open the door for Mama Bell, who waved her away.

“Cristine sure got a good turnout,” she said.

Mama Bell nodded. “Everyone loves Shayna. Even though most everybody thinks she took off of her own free will, they all want to do what they can to help.”

Stunned, Zoe nodded. This made no sense. If Shayna was anywhere in town, she’d have put in an appearance before now. Together they went inside. Immediately, Mrs. Bell spotted a group of her church friends. “Excuse me, honey,” she said, patting Zoe’s arm. “You go ahead and mingle. I’m sure a lot of folks will be glad to see you.”

Though Zoe doubted that, especially since she’d left without a word to anyone, she gave a fond smile and moved away, listening to snatches of conversations as she wove through the throng. The parallel between her disappearance five years ago and Shayna’s now was worrying her. Not because she believed it, but because she didn’t. Everyone in Anniversary appeared to think Shayna had simply taken off. Zoe hoped that was true. The alternative was unbearable.

A woman came up, tall, wearing skintight jeans and a low-cut T-shirt. Smoothing her sleek cap of shoulder-length hair, she gave a faint smile and wrapped her arms around Zoe. After a second of hesitation, Zoe hugged her back.

“Zoe! So good to see you. I’m glad you were able to make it back and help bring Shayna home.”

Zoe nodded, wishing for name tags. “Of course. I’m sorry, you are...?”

At her words, the woman’s smile widened. “You don’t recognize me, do you?”

“No.” Zoe frowned. “You do look familiar, but I just can’t place...”

“Cristine, where are the sign-up sheets?” Brock said, as he came up to them.

“Cristine?” Stunned, Zoe tried not to show it. “Cristine Haywood?”

The woman’s smile widened. “That’s me.”

“Shayna’s best friend,” Brock supplied.

The sound of his voice sent a pleasurable shiver through Zoe. To hide her reaction, she focused on Cristine, who looked nothing at all like the awkward girl she remembered from years past.

“I don’t know what to say,” Zoe began. “You look totally different than you did in—”

“High school.” Dipping her head as though Zoe’s words had embarrassed her, Cristine smiled shyly before turning her attention to Brock. “The sign-up sheets are on the table by the refreshments.”

He gave a curt nod before turning away. Unable to keep from watching him go, Zoe wondered why she got the feeling he didn’t much like Cristine.

When she looked up, she noticed Cristine also silently watching him walk away, her expression a mixture of regret and dislike. Apparently the feeling was mutual.

“He can be such an ass,” Cristine said, catching Zoe eyeing her. “Seriously. If Shayna were here, she’d tell you.”

“Is he always like that?” Zoe asked, before she thought better of it. The Brock she remembered had been happy-go-lucky rather than irritable.

“Sometimes.” Cristine shrugged. “He’s pretty moody. I honestly don’t know how Shayna put up with it.”

Interesting. Zoe filed that bit of information away. She’d ask Shayna about it later, after she was found. Which she would be, Zoe had no doubt. Whether to deal with the pain of realizing her relationship with Brock would never be more than friendship, or something else, eventually Shayna would tire of hiding and return home.

The only troubling detail with this scenario was the apparent fact that either Brock was not telling the truth, or pretty much every word Shayna had told Zoe in their last few conversations had been a lie.

So what was going on? Maybe Cristine would know. Zoe just had to figure out how to ask her.

While she considered this, someone called Cristine away. “We’ll catch up later,” she told Zoe, and hurried off.

Zoe continued on, still listening rather than interacting with people. She needed to talk to Brock. See if she could get a feel for whether or not he was telling the truth.

Searching the crowded room, she found him on the other side. Somehow, their gazes locked. Even now, when she wasn’t entirely sure he hadn’t had something to do with Shayna’s disappearance, a shiver of wanting ran through her, all the way from her heart to the soles of her feet.

Damn. She’d told herself a thousand times she wouldn’t let this happen. But she no more knew how to stop it than she knew how to quit breathing.

Giving herself a mental shake, she wished she could avoid him totally. But she couldn’t. She needed to talk to him, to try to discern truth from lies. Despite the fact that the old attraction still lingered, she had no choice. As Shayna’s former boyfriend, he would have a better insight than others.

She caught up with him near the sign-up table. “Do you have a minute?” she asked, after carefully penning her name directly underneath his.

He gave her a decidedly unfriendly look. “For what?”

Refusing to let his attitude bother her, she took a deep breath. “I wanted to ask you a few more questions about Shayna, if you don’t mind.”

Apparently he did. Just like that, his expression shut down. Alarm bells went off inside her. Why was he acting like this? Did he have something to hide?

“Why are you here?” he asked, sounding stiff. “And don’t tell me you and Shayna were still as close as you used to be, because she told me how you’d cut her out of your life.”

Dumbfounded, Zoe was too stunned to hide her shock. Slowly, she shook her head. “I never cut her out of my life. Sure, we didn’t talk as much as we used to, but we were still close. Or so I thought.”

He crossed his arms, giving her a look that told her he didn’t believe her. She didn’t care; she wasn’t entirely sure she believed him, either.

“What happened?” she finally asked. “I know you said you two were splitting up. What else was going on that would make her want to go into hiding like that?”

“First off, let me reiterate again—Shayna and I didn’t work out. We were never engaged. She was moving on and moving out. As to what else was going on in your best friend’s life, I can see you have no idea,” he muttered. “Really, if you’re basing your information on what she was like in the past, you didn’t know Shayna at all.”

If he thought his harsh tone and narrowed eyes would scare her away, he had no idea how far she could go.

“Then tell me,” she pushed, wishing she dared touch him. She considered herself a brave person, but even she wouldn’t go that far. “Fill me in on what was going on.”

But he simply shook his head and walked away, his entire body stiff and unfriendly. Despite that, she ached to go after him, if only for the simple excuse of touching his skin.

Damn. This yearning for the past needed to stop. Obviously, she wouldn’t be getting any help from him without a battle, which was understandable. She couldn’t blame him for still holding a grudge against her for what had happened between them five years ago. Though she hadn’t stayed in touch with him—her heart had been too broken—Shayna had kept her filled in on what was going on in Brock’s life. As far as she knew, he was happy and content with his life. He didn’t seem the type to be carrying a torch for anyone.

Unfortunately, she was definitely the type to pine for someone. Brock McCauley had been the love of her life. She’d never met anyone else who even came close to measuring up.

He’d obviously moved on. It had to be something else, some other reason he refused to discuss Shayna with her.

Again, the prickling sense of unease. No, she told herself. Not Brock. It had to be something else. Maybe whatever had driven a wedge between him and Shayna had hurt him. He had to be saying there’d been no engagement to mask the pain he must have endured when Shayna broke things off.

That made sense. Zoe looked once more for Brock, unable to find him in the crowd. He had to be lying. Because the Shayna she’d known all her life was giving and generous, happy and carefree. And she didn’t tell her best friend outright lies or keep secrets.

“Wow. What’d you do to set him off?” Cristine appeared again, right behind Zoe, as though she’d been watching and waiting for the opportunity. “Then again, it doesn’t take much these days.”

Trying not to show her irritation, Zoe shrugged. “I have no idea. I simply asked him something about Shayna.”

A shadow crossed Cristine’s face. “Oh. That would do it. He and Shayna weren’t getting along at all.”

Debating, Zoe decided against asking Cristine if Shayna had told her she and Brock were engaged. In view of Brock’s denial, and Mama Bell’s shock, that particular bit of information could wait.

“You and Shayna were good friends?” Zoe asked.

Cristine’s sallow complexion lit up. “Best friends,” she emphasized. “We ran around together every single weekend.”

Zoe cocked her head. “What did you two do?”

Cristine’s smile widened proudly. “Party. Though I tried to keep up with her, Shayna could drink me under the table.”

“Oh.” Zoe wasn’t sure how to respond to that. “So do you have any idea what might have happened to her?”

“Zoe, Shayna was worried.” Cristine looked around, her furtive behavior making Zoe tense up. “You might as well know that we—she and I—experimented a little with drugs.”

At Zoe’s dismayed expression, Cristine shook her head. “Oh, nothing serious. A little X, some weed, the occasional hit of crank.”

Nothing serious? While Zoe was still trying to process this, Cristine took her arm. “She was worried about something, but she wouldn’t tell me much more than that.”

Damn. Zoe’s heart skipped a beat. Yet again, the last conversation she’d had with Shayna replayed in her mind. She should have listened, should have done something. Maybe if she had, Shayna would still be here.

Guilt flooded her. Then, as blood rushed to her head, she inhaled deeply, trying to catch her breath.

“Zoe?” Cristine leaned in, peering at Zoe’s face. “Are you all right?”

“Yes. No,” Zoe said, taking a deep breath. “Cristine, what’s the deal with the sheriff’s office? Mama Bell says they’re not exactly helping to find her.”

Cristine grabbed her arm. “They say since Shayna’s an adult and has been talking about leaving town, she probably just took off. They won’t take us seriously.” She sounded bitter.

Zoe shook her off. “Why the hell not? Shayna is missing. How can they dispute that?”

“According to them, an adult has the right to go anywhere they want without telling anyone where they went. Without evidence of foul play...” For a second time Cristine looked around, lowering her voice. “Part of it might be that Shayna was seeing Roger Giles, the new sheriff.”

Dumbfounded, Zoe narrowed her eyes. “Recently?”

“Yes.”

Oh jeez, this really didn’t sound like the Shayna Zoe knew. “You’re telling me she was seeing someone behind Brock’s back. Was this before or after they broke up?”

“Who knows?” Cristine gave a brittle laugh. “Honey, Shayna was seeing lots of people behind Brock’s back.”

“Brock told me they’d become like roommates.”

“Okay.” Cristine gave a short bark of laughter. “But she was still living there. I told her to wait until she moved out. For Brock, I think it was a slap in the face.”

Gut twisting, Zoe nodded. “So you’re telling me Shayna was...cheating?” She could scarcely say the word. The Shayna she knew despised both liars and cheaters.

“No, not cheating. Shayna wasn’t exclusive with anyone. She made that clear up front. Roger Giles was aware he wasn’t the only one. Brock knew it, too, though he wasn’t too happy about it.”

Zoe had to give Cristine credit for sticking by her friend. In fact, Cristine actually managed to sound indignant.

“What about Brock?” Zoe asked. “You say he knew she wasn’t exclusive, but was he aware of all this?”

Cristine shrugged. “It wasn’t that way in the beginning. The two of them tried, they really tried. All I know is Shayna was pretty devastated when she and Brock didn’t work out. At first, I think she started fooling around trying to make him jealous.” She shrugged. “Or maybe she was getting even. Who knows?”

Zoe didn’t know what to say.

Again, Cristine leaned closer. “Think whatever you want to about her, but I can tell you this much. Shayna sure knew how to live life to the fullest. She and I had a lot of good times together.” Wiping a tear from her eye, she looked away. “That’s why I don’t believe she left willingly. She has to be in trouble. Otherwise, she would have let me know. We were best friends.”

So were we, Zoe added silently. Once. Only now she was finding out she really didn’t know Shayna at all. The woman she thought she knew was turning out to be a remnant of the past.

Scary thought. Just like with Mama Bell, Shayna had shut Zoe completely out of the truth about her life.

Drugs. Alcohol. Sex with random men.

Zoe’s mother had been a party girl. Zoe could only hope Shayna hadn’t gotten mixed up with the same type of people. After all, that was the reason Zoe’s mother had ended up dead, with her killer in prison.

Zoe made a mental note to check online later and make sure nothing had changed. The last time he’d come up before the parole board, he’d been denied.

Meanwhile, Cristine watched her like a hawk. A concerned, slightly ditzy hawk, but closely nonetheless.

“I’m still going to talk to the police,” Zoe repeated. “Now, please excuse me.”

Cristine stared and then nodded. “Let me come with you.”

Glancing around the crowded room full of people she should recognize but didn’t, Zoe shook her head. “Thank you, but that’s not necessary. You’ve got plenty to occupy you here. I’ll handle this on my own.”

Cristine dipped her chin, swallowing hard. “But you are signing up to help search, right?”

“Of course.” Zoe forced a smile and gestured to the line at the sign-up table. “Judging from the size of this turnout, you should have a ton of people show up tomorrow to assist.”

Cristine bit her lip. “About that. Will you help me organize it?” she blurted. “I want Shayna found, and no one else besides you and Mrs. Bell is taking her disappearance seriously.”

Surprised, Zoe considered. What Cristine said made sense. Still, until she got a better feel for things, Zoe preferred to go it on her own. “I don’t know,” she finally said. “It looks to me like you have everything pretty much under control.”

Then, before Cristine could say anything else, Zoe turned and hurried away.

Rushing outside, she nearly ran into Brock. Immediately, she felt a tingle of excitement low in her belly, which she ignored.

“Leaving already?” he asked, blocking her way and making no effort to move.

She tried to catch her breath, nodded and kept her expression impassive. It wouldn’t be a good thing if Brock learned how her body still reacted to him. “I thought I’d head over to the police station and see if I can light a fire under them.”

“Good idea.” He fell into step beside her. “It’s a short walk. Do you mind if I go with you?”

Would wonders never cease? Suddenly everyone wanted to go with her to the police department. First Cristine, and now Brock. She had to wonder if ulterior motives might be involved.

Glancing at Brock, his ruggedly handsome profile strong and rigid, his massive shoulders stretching the cotton of his button-down shirt, Zoe again quelled her inner quivering. She tried to be objective—as if they hadn’t shared a past—and debated asking him if he knew about Shayna and the sheriff. In the end, she decided against it. She wasn’t yet positive it was the truth.

“If you want,” she answered, turning away, unable to keep looking at him, hating how badly that hurt. “Though judging how you’ve been acting since I got here, I can’t help but wonder why you’d want to go anywhere with me.”

He touched her shoulder, making her jump and face him. From his expression, he wasn’t too happy about her statement.

Tough. She’d only spoken the truth.

“Look, Zoe,” he began, his husky, Southern-accented voice both familiar and exotic. “Though I’m of the opinion Shayna took off with some guy for an extended vacation, I still want her found. Just because we weren’t getting along doesn’t mean I’m not worried about her.”

Interesting. Now she definitely had to wonder what he was hiding. And he was hiding something, of that she had no doubt. “I’m glad to hear you say that,” she said, deciding to test his veracity. “The way I see it, we’re going to have to put our differences aside so we can work together. Don’t you agree?”

His face revealed his surprise, and he slowly nodded. Of course, he had no idea that the look in his eyes plainly communicated the opposite. Work together? He might as well have given her a hell, no. At least that would have been truthful.

“I have to admit I could use your help sometimes,” she continued, again speaking only the truth. “I’m getting too many conflicting stories.”

He gave a heavy sigh. “I have a feeling I know what you mean.”

“Do you?” Now would be the perfect time to find out his version of the truth. “What exactly happened between you and Shayna?”

“That’s private, between me and her. None of your business.”

“It is my business if it has something to do with her disappearance. What happened, Brock?”

He took a deep breath and then shook his head. “Look, Zoe, you turned your back on me, on us and on this town. People around here might be more forgiving, or they might tell you all of this is none of your business. I don’t know why Mama Bell called you or even why you came. As far as I’m concerned, you’ve amply demonstrated you don’t give a damn about any of us.”

His words hung there, lodging in the empty space inside her heart. She shriveled a little at his tone, but then she’d known coming back wouldn’t be easy. He might not like it, but she knew she needed to probe into the relationship between her missing friend and her former fiancé. If she wanted to gain insight into what had happened to Shayna, she would have to ask difficult questions. And if Brock wanted her found, he’d have to answer them.

They started walking, side by side, close but not touching in any way. She felt unsettled, as though his body exerted some sort of gravitational pull on hers. “What do you mean, you know what I’m talking about?”

Not looking at her, he responded. “Shayna had gone wild. Cristine was her partner in crime. They were into drugs, alcohol and one-night stands. I couldn’t exactly stop her, but I could make her keep it out of my apartment. She couldn’t wait to move out.”

Again, nothing should have surprised her, but she found it hard to reconcile the Brock she’d once known putting up with the kind of behavior Cristine had ascribed to Shayna. And what had her best friend been thinking? None of this even remotely made sense.

But then again, people changed. Everyone did. Including her. Except for one thing. Who would have guessed that she’d still get that internal zing straight to the heart every time she even looked at Brock?

As they neared the building that housed the Anniversary police station, Zoe had to wonder if it wasn’t entirely possible Brock knew about Shayna and the chief and had come along to enact some sort of testosterone pissing contest.

But then again, pulling something like that off surrounded by armed officers of the law would be more than foolish—it would be downright suicidal.

She needed to calm her overactive imagination and find out what the Anniversary police department was doing to help find her friend.

And she suddenly realized this was one thing she’d be better off handling by herself. As it stood, she suspected Brock’s motives for the abrupt about-face. After all, why would he want to work together with the woman who’d basically left him at the altar? Especially if—she shot a quick sideways glance at him—Shayna had been cheating on him constantly?

“Wait.” Without thinking, she touched his arm, nearly gasping at the sizzle that ran up her fingers straight to her heart. “I think I’d rather do this alone.”

“Of course you would,” he responded, the crease between his brows revealing his displeasure. Though he didn’t move, she could see him visibly withdraw.

Fighting the odd urge to apologize, she nodded. Good. Maybe now she could breathe. After all, there was no sense in letting him get too close. He might be the man who’d made her friend disappear—and still she was attracted to him.

“Look, Zoe,” Brock said. “Whatever went wrong between us, Shayna matters now. Nothing else.”

“You’re right,” she said. “But I honestly think this is something I need to do on my own.”

“Fine.” Crossing his arms, he gave her a hard look. “Call me if you need me.”

After a second of hesitation, Zoe agreed.

Once inside, she saw several people she recognized, more proof that life in a small town remained essentially the same.

“Can I help you?” a woman asked, her voice cool. Great. Agnes Caliburton from high school. She’d been part of a gang of girls who’d tormented Zoe to no end, simply because Zoe had been pretty.

Zoe pretended not to recognize her. “Yes. I’m here to see the sheriff.” In the old days, when Renee Beauchamp had run the place, Zoe could have just walked right in. Apparently not anymore.

Agnes stared, her expression hard. “Do you have an appointment?”

Zoe met her gaze and held it. “No. But I’m sure he’ll see me. Tell him Zoe Onella is here to see him.”

Agnes didn’t move. “Regarding?”

“Shayna Bell.” Crossing her arms, Zoe waited, practically daring the woman to say anything else.

Instead, Agnes spun on her heel and headed toward the back.

Leaning on the counter, Zoe waited.

A moment later, Agnes returned, the downward twist of her mouth showing her displeasure. “Follow me,” she said, lifting a part of the counter so Zoe could go through.

A few paces behind Agnes, Zoe kept her gaze straight-ahead, well aware of the curious stares of the half-a-dozen officers milling about in the common room.

When they turned left, into a short hallway, Agnes stopped short of knocking on the closed door. “Here you go,” she said, and beat a hasty retreat, leaving Zoe unannounced.

Fine. Rapping sharply on the door, Zoe waited until the man inside spoke before turning the handle and entering.

She stopped short at her first sight of Shayna’s lover, assuming what Cristine had told her was true. Blond and deeply tanned, he had the look of a Colorado ski instructor or golf pro. His sparkling blue eyes were friendly and his smile warm. Not at all what she’d expected.

But then what had she thought? That Shayna would cheat on Brock with a man who was ugly?

“What can I do for you, Ms. Onella?” he asked, his Texas drawl completely charming.

“Please, call me Zoe,” she said automatically.

“Fine, Zoe. I’m Roger.” He held out his hand and she shook it. “Agnes tells me you’re here to talk about Shayna?”

“Yes.” She searched his face for some hint of emotion at the name. “I don’t know how else to put this, so I’m going to be blunt. I understand you and she were...intimate?”

One corner of his mouth quirked as she felt her face redden. “We were friends with benefits, if that’s what you mean. But I’m curious. Surely that’s not what you came to talk to me about?”

Despite her discomfort, she held his gaze. “Isn’t that a conflict of interest?”

“In what way? Shayna hasn’t been charged with a crime.”

“Actually, I came here to find out what your office is doing to find her.”

“Everything we can, Zoe,” he assured her, leaning back in his chair with his hands behind his head. “We have a missing persons report on file. Our hands are tied. Shayna is a grown woman who told many people she wanted to get out of town. There’s no evidence of foul play or anything suspicious—”

“Something happened to her,” Zoe interrupted. “Why can’t you just consider that a possibility?”

He took a deep breath. “She never stopped talking about the fact that you did exactly what she longed to do. Not only did you get away, but you were living what she considered a glamorous life. I think she was envious of you. I think she left to try and make it on her own away from here.”

Damn, that hurt. “Glamorous? I worked as an executive assistant. Plus, even if that was what happened, Shayna would never disappear without telling anyone where she was going.”

“And how do you know she didn’t?”

He wasn’t taking her seriously and that infuriated her. “Because she had no reason to. Everyone she knew and loved is here. On top of that, her bank accounts haven’t been touched. I’m willing to bet if you checked, you’d find the same with her credit cards.”

“First off, we can’t. Shayna has a right to privacy just like anyone else.”

“What if her parents insist? Or Brock, since they were living together?”

“Shayna would have to give permission, whether verbal or otherwise. Since she did not...” He spread his hands. “We can do nothing.”

“She would have called me,” she insisted. “There’s no way she would have left without at least letting me—or her mother—know.”

“You can’t be sure of that. Zoe, the Shayna I know is a restless, unhappy woman. She was, whether you knew it or not, insanely jealous of you and your success. She wanted to escape this town, this life.” He shrugged. “That’s one of the reasons why the relationship between us didn’t work. I left Houston to escape the big city. I love Anniversary. She’d come to despise everything about it.”

Despite herself, she recognized the validity of his statement. “You have a point,” she grudgingly admitted. “But still...”

He stood, indicating the discussion was over. “I can promise you this, Zoe,” he said. “The instant we have any reason to think differently, we’ll expend every resource to make sure Shayna is found. But as it is...”

She dipped her chin. “I understand.”

The sad thing was, she did. But on the other side, she wasn’t sure she trusted Shayna’s former lover to be in charge of searching for her.

Unfortunately, she was beginning to think the search would be pointless. All indications seemed to point to Shayna leaving town on her own, in much the same way that Zoe herself had done five years earlier.

Still, a niggling doubt remained. Mainly because no matter what Shayna might have become, Zoe knew she wouldn’t have taken off without talking to her and she’d have put on a show for Zoe, at the least, which means she cared what Zoe thought. Whether Shayna lied or not, she’d clearly needed some kind of help all along. Now she was missing. Zoe’s heart ached for her troubled friend.

So she would continue looking, no matter what. And, until she knew more, she’d hope for the best but suppose the worst.

Chapter 4

As Zoe left the police station and stepped outside into the bright sunshine, her cell phone rang. She didn’t recognize the number but answered anyway.

“Zoe, it’s Cristine.” The other woman’s words were rushed, as if she was nervous. “I need to talk to you.”

“Okay.” Zoe checked her watch. “I’m just leaving the police station. I can be back there in a few minutes.”

“Oh, not here.” Cristine coughed delicately. “It’s too crowded. I’d like someplace a little more private.”

Interesting. Zoe sensed it could be important, but still needed clarification. “Is this about Shayna?”

“Yes. I’m tied up with this until late this afternoon. We’ve already started organizing some searches, though the big one will be on Saturday, when everyone is off work. How about we meet for breakfast tomorrow morning? How about Joe’s coffee shop?”

“Joe’s is still there?” Zoe and the Bell family had spent many a Sunday morning at that diner. “From what I remember, it’s always really crowded.”

“On weekends, yes,” Cristine said. “But since tomorrow is Friday, if we go right after the morning rush, say about eight-thirty, it will be fairly empty. We should be able to have a private conversation with minimal interruptions.”

“Sounds good.” Ending the call, Zoe didn’t see the need to head back to the high school. At this point, it appeared she was on her own. She texted Mama Bell, letting her know to take the car whenever she was ready to go. Mama replied almost immediately with an okay and a smiley face.

Relieved, Zoe popped into the corner gas station and purchased a bottle of water. She set out, glad of the alone time, planning to walk back to the Bells’ house at a leisurely pace. It was probably just over a mile and she knew she could use the exercise. She walked a lot in the city and not only was the movement therapeutic, it always helped clear her head.

And she certainly had a lot to think about.

As she left downtown behind, she realized she’d always considered Shayna fragile. Zoe loved her like a sister—and always would, no matter what. The woman Shayna had apparently become proved that point. From what Zoe had heard, Shayna was more fragile than ever, doing drugs, sleeping around—and disappearing.

What the hell had happened to make her change so completely? Had it been Brock, as Cristine had hinted? Or jealousy over Zoe’s life, like the sheriff thought? Or was it something more, something no one yet realized or understood, that same something that had made her tell Zoe she needed her? Zoe suspected if she learned the secret to that, she might find out what had become of her friend.

* * *

Emotions—chief among them jumbled regret and longing—swamped Brock as he’d watched Zoe stride into the sheriff’s office. Was she playing some sort of game with him? First she’d asked for his help and then, barely a minute later, told him she’d changed her mind.

And she’d claimed they needed to put their differences aside? As if what had happened between them was that simple.

Did she not understand that she’d freakin’ ripped out his heart? That every time he saw her and she gave him that patently false smile, he wanted to haul her up against him and kiss her senseless, before shoving her away and then daring her to tell him that he meant nothing to her. Did she not realize she was the reason he couldn’t love Shayna the way she deserved, and, worse, that Shayna had guessed it, too?

Of course, he couldn’t. Not when the only reason Zoe had returned was because her friend Shayna had gone missing.

Another twist of the knife in his heart, knowing she hadn’t come back for him. Worse, Zoe couldn’t see the parallel between how she’d behaved then and what Shayna appeared to have done now.

Disappeared without a word to the ones who loved her.

He’d tortured himself for months after Zoe left. Searched high and low, hounded Shayna and the Bells for some hint, any hint of where she’d gone. He’d planned to find her, demand an explanation, ask her to look him in the eye, kiss him on the mouth, and then tell him she didn’t love him, didn’t want to be his wife.

After a while, tired of spinning his wheels, he’d tried to drown his sorrows in the bottle. His sister Eve had been the one to pull him from the abyss when he’d hit rock bottom. With both their parents dead, she needed him more than he needed oblivion. So he’d returned home to raise Eve and nurse his broken heart. As the years had passed, he’d come to believe that, even if not entirely whole, he had healed as best he could.

He’d been wrong.

Her mere presence had brought it all rushing back.

Cursing, he felt like punching something. He wanted Shayna found as much as anyone else did, but for sanity’s sake, he needed to spend as little time around Zoe as possible.

Instead of going home, he headed for TJ’s Brew Pub. Though he hadn’t been to the place in months—no, make that years—the bartender Jason, who was the J in TJ’s, welcomed him as if he was an old friend.

Which he sort of was, since they’d gone to high school together.

“What’ll it be?” Jason asked, only his narrowed eyes indicating how apprehensive he was about the answer. He rubbed his bald head quickly, the gesture born of habit. Even back when he’d had hair, Jason had always rubbed his head.

“Club soda,” Brock told him, giving him a twisted grin. “Don’t worry, I’m not falling off the wagon any time soon.” He’d been sober three years and counting.

“I’m glad,” Jason countered, grinning back. He brought the club soda and placed it on the counter. “Though I had to wonder, man. I mean, you coming into the bar and all.”

“I wanted to test myself.” Brock picked up the club soda and took a drink. “Plus, sometimes I miss the atmosphere.” To his surprise, the words rang of truth. He hadn’t thought of anything beyond going inside the pub, as if the dim light and the seventies-style paneled walls represented a safe haven.

In the old days, they had. But then, so had alcohol.

“Hey, I’m hearing things.” Jason leaned closer, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial near whisper. “How are you dealing with Zoe Onella being back in town?”

Brock stifled a groan. Even here, he couldn’t escape her.

“Fine,” he said. “Just fine.”

TJ’s was empty, the after-work crowd still glued to their desks and computers. A few die-hard souls dotted the interior, intent on the beer or their laptops, mostly alone, though Brock spotted one couple snuggling in a back booth, giggling over a pizza and a couple of brews.

He’d always loved the taste of beer. Even now, though he hadn’t drank one in years, his mouth watered.

With the ease of much practice, he pushed the craving away. He’d heard it never left you, this almost obscene yearning for alcohol. Kind of like the way he felt about Zoe.

Damn. Cursing under his breath, he took another drink, glad Jason had moved away to help another customer. He’d just gotten his world whipped into shape. While he couldn’t say he was truly happy, he was content. He had the feed store, his mother and sister, and his weekend gig at the college radio station. That was enough. It had to be, because that was all he had.

He cursed the day Zoe had come back into town and started him once again wanting more.

* * *

Morning arrived silently in Anniversary, the only hint of its arrival a shaft of yellow light. Stretching, Zoe reflected on how she missed mornings in Manhattan. There, the noise built like a crescendo, rising in waves and pulling you from your nest under the covers. She found it invigorating, emerging from her apartment onto the bustling street, the sounds of the city a shot of adrenaline straight into her veins.

Here, she had to rely on coffee. Strong coffee. She had a cup at Mama Bell’s before driving into town to meet Cristine. She took the cup with her, sipping as she drove.

Still she felt half-asleep as she negotiated the surprisingly crowded downtown area. It took her a few minutes to find a parking spot. Once she had, she slugged back the rest of the coffee, aware there’d be more.

Stepping into the coffee shop felt like hopping backward in time. A blast from the past at Joe’s. It ought to be their slogan. Glancing around, Zoe could swear the same people in the various red vinyl booths had been here the last time she’d come, over five years ago.

“Well, I’ll be... Zoe Onella?” Hand on one cocked hip, the other holding a steaming pot of coffee, Patsy O’Brien flipped her long, gray braid out of the way and grinned. “Have a seat anywhere, sugar. Let me guess, cheese blintzes with blueberries, right?”

Zoe nodded. Though she’d originally planned on having a sensible breakfast of scrambled egg substitute with turkey bacon and wheat toast, she suddenly craved the comfort food of her youth.

“Zoe, over here.” Cristine waved from a booth near the back. Today, she’d lightened up on the heavy black eyeliner, though apparently she still favored low-cut shirts and push up bras.

Zoe hurried over and slid in.

“Coffee?” Cristine passed a cup over to her. Accepting gratefully, Zoe caught Patsy’s eye. The older woman bustled over, filled the cup and sighed. “Look at you, all sophisticated and everything. Maybe when the breakfast rush slows down, I’ll have time to chat.” And she hurried off, to Zoe’s relief.

“You do look different,” Cristine mused. “Of course, you were always pretty, even back in high school. But now you look so...citified.”

Not sure if the statement was an insult or a compliment, Zoe only sipped her coffee and nodded. Then, because she wanted to focus the conversation where it belonged, she leaned forward. “How was Shayna acting these last few weeks? Did she say or do anything unusual?”

“You mean something to let me know she was planning on running off?” Pursing her lips, Cristine considered the question. “Well, she had been acting worried. She had a bit of a run-in with a drug dealer. That’s never good. She owed him money and wasn’t sure how she’d come up with it.”

At the words, Zoe’s stomach clenched and she closed her eyes. Again, it was hammered home to her how much Shayna had changed. Shayna had known the adverse effect drugs had had on Zoe’s life. Zoe’s mother had been an addict and had done prison time, before being released and then murdered by her dealer in front of Zoe.

She couldn’t believe Shayna had sunk that low.

“Are you sure?” she heard herself ask, even though she knew Cristine had to be.

“Yes.” Cristine bit her lip. “But no worries. I covered it for her. I loaned her the money and she’d already started paying me back.”

“Did she?” Zoe felt a flash of anger and let it show in her voice.

Cristine looked down. “Yes.”

Hurt and angry and confused, Zoe sighed.

“Hey.” Cristine’s sweet Southern drawl brought her out of her thoughts. “Are you okay? You looked kind of out of it for a minute there.”

“I was just thinking about the past.” Before she could say anything else, Patsy appeared with their food.

“Here you go, sugar.” She set a plate with three cheese blintzes covered with blueberries and whipped cream in front of Zoe. “Now you try and eat all of this, you hear? You are looking way too skinny these days.”

Zoe nodded, unable to keep from smiling. In New York, everyone she knew was obsessed with remaining svelte. Hearing Patsy call her too thin was like balm on her soul.

Obligingly, she dug in. Across from her, Cristine stared at her omelet before finally picking up a piece of crispy bacon and crunching it between her teeth.

At least the arrival of their breakfast had saved them from further conversation. Zoe still had no idea why Cristine wanted to meet with her privately. Though she knew things moved much slower here in Texas than they did up north, she needed to try and pry that out of her.

Eventually, Patsy cleared their plates, refilled their coffee and left the check, expressing her regret that she was still too busy to stay and chat.

Taking a deep drink of coffee, finally feeling caffeinated, Zoe glanced at her watch before extracting a twenty from her wallet to pay for the meal. Funny how this exact same breakfast in Manhattan would have cost twice as much. “Cristine, was there a reason you wanted to meet me for breakfast? If not, I’ve really got to get going.”

Leaning back in the booth, Cristine arched her brows. “Yes, Zoe. I did need to discuss something with you. I’m sorry I didn’t bring it up sooner, but it’s difficult for me to say.”

Watching her, Zoe waited.

After getting no response, Cristine continued. “I think I know what happened to Shayna, though I don’t know if she ran off or was abducted.”

“Abducted?” Zoe sucked in her breath. “Why are you telling me this? Don’t you think you should go to the police?”

“I don’t have concrete evidence.” Cristine grimaced, looking uncomfortable. “Only my suspicions.”

Crap. Torn between wanting to believe her and demanding Cristine march right down to the police station this instant, Zoe leaned close. “Tell me what you know,” she said. “Then maybe we’ll go talk to the sheriff together.”

“Okay.” Relief colored Cristine’s voice. “Shayna was friends with a lot of men, you know?”

Zoe nodded. “Go on.”

“Well, she’d been hanging around with this biker who did a lot of work for the local dealer.”

Could this get any worse? Somehow, Zoe suspected it could and would.

“What’s the biker’s name?” she asked.

“Mike.” Cristine sighed. “I haven’t seen him around at all since Shayna disappeared. That dude is really good-looking, but jealous as hell. And like I told you, Shayna doesn’t make any long-term commitments.”

“What about Brock?” Zoe pointed out. “Shayna moved in with him.”

“Yeah, but once she realized it was going nowhere, she got bored.” Cristine gave a soft laugh. “She likes to keep things free and easy. Like me. We just want to have fun.”

“Do you think Mike ran off with her?” Zoe asked.

“Ran off?” Cristine’s heavily made-up eyes filled with tears. “It’s possible, but like I said, Shayna didn’t make commitments.”

“We need to tell Roger. Even if there’s no real evidence, this is something he needs to know.”

“I already told him an amended version.” She shifted in her chair, clearly uncomfortable. “I couldn’t tell him about the drugs. I didn’t want to get Shayna in trouble.”

Or herself. “What did he say?”

Cristine sighed. “He promised to put it in his file.”

“And now you’re telling me?” Zoe leaned forward. “Why?”

“Because someone needs to go talk to Mike—and probably some of the others Shayna was involved with.”

Someone, meaning obviously not her. Zoe found that slightly odd. “Cristine, you know their faces. Who better to dig for information?”

“That’s just it, I can’t.” Twisting her hands together, Cristine leaned closer. “You see, Shayna wasn’t the only one who owes money. After I covered her debt, I thought she’d be paying me back. Instead, she disappeared. Meanwhile, I sort of owe a couple of other guys money and...”

“If you show up, they’ll expect you to pay it.”

Cristine nodded. “And I can’t. At least not until I get paid. What about you? No one around there knows you. You’d be perfect. Shayna and I hung out at several places, but there’s one bar in particular, the one where Mike hangs out. We were there the night Shayna disappeared.”

“Where is it?”

Cristine named a bar in a bad part of town. The Hitching Post. Of course. Zoe shouldn’t have been familiar with it, but she was. She’d witnessed her mother’s murder in the alley behind there.

The idea of going back to that bar, near that dark alley, made Zoe break out in an uncomfortable sweat.

She had no choice. If she wanted to find out what had happened to Shayna, she had to go back to the place that haunted her nightmares.

Unfortunately, she couldn’t go alone. She’d have to ask Brock. At least she trusted him. He was and always would be the most honorable man she’d ever known. But then again, Shayna had changed completely. What if Brock had, too?

Still, she’d ask him. At the thought, her insides churned. Still, maybe they could figure out a way to work together for Shayna’s sake. “I’ll let you know,” she told Cristine, pushing up from the table.

Instead of going home, she took a deep breath and headed out to the one place she knew she could find Brock. McCauley’s Feed Store.

Several pickup trucks were parked in the lot. She pulled in between two of them and killed the engine. Taking a deep breath, she squared her shoulders and got out.

Inside, she blinked. The store had changed dramatically. She remembered a homey place of disorganized chaos. Saddles had been mixed in among bird feeders, dog food next to fertilizer. Customers had to hunt to find the items they wanted.

Now, everything had been arranged in logical order. Saddles were grouped with bridles and halters and bits. There was a bird section, a wildlife section, and a gardening section, among others. Hunting was big business in these parts and come deer season McCauley’s would sell out of deer stands and feeders. There were even two entire rows of fishing rods and reels, along with lures and various other angler items. The concrete floor appeared clean and well swept, and the checkout counter had been relocated to the opposite side of the store.

Again, she scanned the interior, almost feeling as though she was in another place entirely. She didn’t see Brock anywhere.

Two men were standing by the shelves containing sacks of dog food, hotly debating the merits of particular brands. They fell silent and turned to stare as she walked by. She gave them a friendly smile and tried to move past.

Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.

Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.