Texas Secrets, Lovers' Lies

“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.