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
