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
