Texas Secrets, Lovers' Lies
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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.”