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Page 2


  “How did the two of you meet?”

  A soft smile pulled at his lips. “I was in this old, hole-in-the-wall music store checking out some CDs. The place is old and run down, and no one even knows it’s there. Anyway, Skye was in there, and we just started talking about music. We really hit it off.”

  “Let me guess—that’s when everything started going wrong?” I’d been around enough to know how the story usually played out.

  “See, I was right. Girls can be good at this detective thing.” He flashed a teasing grin that quickly faded. “Skye said she felt like someone was watching her. Then someone wiped her computer clean. Small things in her house kept being rearranged—but nothing that she could prove.”

  “But she thought someone had been in her home? She thought Georgia had been in her home?”

  He nodded. “We threw the theory out there.”

  I shivered at the thought. Unfortunately, I could relate because I’d experienced something similar. “Did she ever call the cops?”

  “Again, she couldn’t prove anything. It was all a hunch, nothing concrete.” He stared off in the distance for a moment. “I got back from a two-week tour. We’d talked several times while I was on the road, but I got back a day earlier than scheduled. I went to her house to surprise her, but she wasn’t home.”

  “Could be a coincidence, especially since she didn’t know you were coming.”

  “True. But I tried to call after that, and she didn’t answer. After a day of not being able to get in touch with her, I got worried. Skye was always really good about calling me back in a timely manner.”

  “What happened next?”

  “I managed to find the number for Skye’s friend Darcy, but she hadn’t heard from Skye in three days. I tried not to panic. I mean, we were at that weird place in our relationship where we’d only gone out a few times. We liked each other, but we didn’t have enough time together to be serious. I couldn’t say for sure if this was normal or not.”

  “You mean, maybe she was the type of girl who just liked to take off on a trip without telling anyone?”

  “Exactly. She didn’t have to answer to me. She’s a big girl. Anyway, when I didn’t hear anything for two days, I called the police. They got some information from me and did a little investigating. They called the company she worked for, and her boss said that Skye called in and requested time off. The police also said that they’d checked her apartment and there was no evidence of foul play. They came to the conclusion that she left on her own free will.”

  “But you think Georgia did something?” I leaned back, unsure if it was excitement over the case or my sugar high that made my blood zing.

  “I do, but I have no way to prove it.” He leaned across the table toward me. “Darcy did say that Skye seemed a bit of a gypsy, that she wasn’t the type who wanted to settle down. If she left on her own, I certainly don’t want to stalk her. But if something happened to her . . .”

  “How long ago did this happen?”

  His eyes crinkled with worry. “A month.”

  “You think every woman you get close to is a target for Georgia. She’s some sort of femme fatale?”

  “Exactly.”

  I grabbed a peanut and rubbed it between my fingers, suddenly starving. “What do you want me to do?”

  Just in the nick of time, the waitress set our food in front of us and the tantalizing scent of barbecue ribs drifted upward. It wasn’t until that moment I realized just how hungry I was, and I instantly wanted to inhale the entire plate of ribs, fries, coleslaw, and beans before me. Of course, I wouldn’t, because that would be uncouth.

  Trace took his hat off. “You mind if we pray before eating?”

  It was refreshing to hear someone else ask that. “Please do.”

  As soon as he said “amen,” I grabbed a fry and got back to the conversation. “So, please continue. I’m curious now.”

  “I really liked Skye, Gabby. My manager says I shouldn’t become attached to anyone. Fans like the illusion that you’re single and available to be the ‘man of their dreams.’” He said the last four words in a mocking tone. “But I can’t stop thinking about her. Not only about her smile but about the possibility that something happened to her.”

  “Your manager sounds like a pain in the chaps.” I picked up a rib, realizing how messy this was going to be. I was willing to chance it.

  “He is.”

  “When was the last time you saw this Georgia woman?”

  He raised his fork but still didn’t eat a bite. “That’s the strange thing. I haven’t seen her since Skye disappeared. The day I returned home from my tour, Georgia was waiting for me outside of the recording studio. I tried to brush her off.”

  “How did she respond?” I bit into the rib, and the meat nearly melted in my mouth.

  “Not well. She got angry, and said we were meant to be together and that I’d eventually see it one day.”

  “Sounds scary.”

  He nodded. “You can say that again. But then she left. It’s been quiet. Too quiet, you know what I mean?”

  I put the bone down and wiped my mouth with a napkin. Trace would never take me seriously with barbecue sauce on my face. I balled up the napkin and tried to look composed before addressing him. “What would you like for me to do, Trace? Find Skye? Track Georgia?”

  He scooped up some coleslaw with his fork. “Jono keeps saying I need to let this go and get used to women doing crazy things in the name of having a celebrity crush. But if Georgia did something to Skye, then I feel responsible. I can’t live with myself if she was hurt because of me. For a while, I even wondered if Jono might be behind it. I could see him as the type who might pay Skye off in order to ensure I’m single and unattached.”

  “He’d be a snake if he did that.”

  “I know. That’s why I’d like for you to help me figure out what happened. See if you can locate Georgia and figure out what she’s up to. Has she moved on to someone else? Did she have anything to do with Skye’s disappearance? I need some answers.”

  “I understand.”

  “I know you have classes this week, but I figured you could snoop in the evenings. Maybe you could even stay in Oklahoma a little longer if you needed to? I could compensate you. What do you say?”

  I stared at him a moment, at his green eyes as they pleaded with me. “I say, I’m just the girl who cain’t say no—to mysteries, of course. I’d love to help, but not for pay. We’re family. Practically.”

  He grinned. “Thank you so much, Gabby. Now, eat those ribs. You’re going to need your energy for this one.”

  CHAPTER 2

  After dinner, Trace drove me back to my car, dust kicking up behind his truck as we traveled down the lonely road. My mind spun with information as I tried to process everything he’d told me about Georgia and Skye. I needed to figure out the best place to start my investigation.

  “We’re going to rehearse some more tonight. Why don’t you hang out?” Trace said, his hands casually draped on the steering wheel. “It will give you a chance to ask any questions. Plus, you could hear some of our music and meet the rest of the band.”

  “Really? I won’t be in the way?”

  “Nah, of course not. Family is never an inconvenience.”

  Funny, I’d never really felt that with my own flesh and blood. I was starting to like the idea of Trace becoming my stepbrother more and more. Maybe I could finally have the family I’d always dreamed about. “Tell me about this warehouse where you’re playing. Do you own it?”

  “It’s just a space that we rent to set up before our tour so we can work out all the kinks before hitting the road.”

  “Is this old warehouse available anytime you need it?” I was trying to wrap my mind around how show business worked. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t fascinated.

  “One of the label executives owns the space. He lets other bands use it, as well. We practiced at Wentworth’s ranch for years. But then some fans fo
und the place and kept interrupting. No one knows we’re out here, and we like it that way.”

  “Sounds exciting.” I was going to have fun immersing myself in this world this week. In my head, I could already hear Alan Jackson singing “Gone Country.”

  He draped one arm against the door. “It really is. I’ve worked my whole life for this, Gabby. I can’t believe it’s finally happening. We struggled for years to be noticed. Years. Finally, we hooked up with another band, and they liked our music. They invited us to tour with them as the opening act. Cowboy Blues, you ever heard of them?”

  I nodded, impressed. “Cowboy Blues? As in, the Cowboy Blues who sang ‘With This Ring and Forever’?” I started singing and then abruptly stopped when I realized what I was doing. I cleared my throat. “My old college roommate used to listen to them all the time.”

  Trace grinned. “Nice voice, by the way. But yeah, Cowboy Blues are great guys. We would have probably never gotten this recording contract without them. And Jono, of course.”

  “So, you’re going on tour next week?”

  “That’s right. This week we’re having a soft launch. It’s a release party for our new CD, and we wanted to have it at one of the places where we got our start. We’ll have a real release party in Nashville next week. Reporters and label execs and everyone else will be there for that one.”

  This guy was the real deal. The way Teddi had described it, I figured he was playing at little honky-tonk bars and living in an apartment with four other guys who, when combined, still couldn’t make rent and had to resort to delivering pizzas on the side.

  Before I could say anything, he continued.

  “We’re playing at this festival the night after that. The organizer is a personal friend of mine, so I couldn’t exactly say no. Jono wasn’t too happy about it because we’re supposed to be spending all our time concentrating on our upcoming tour. Anyway, it’s a bunch of local bands, and we’re headlining it. The whole thing is set up under tents, since it’s still so cold outside. Should be fun.”

  “You sound busy.”

  “And this is nothing compared to what happens next. We continue with rehearsals this week, and then we have our official launch, appearances on The Today Show, 150 concert dates. It’s going to be quite the ride.”

  “It doesn’t sound like you have any time for dating.”

  He frowned and rubbed his chin. “No, it doesn’t sound like that. But you make time for what’s important.”

  “How did Skye feel about you being gone so much?” We pulled up to the warehouse, but Trace made no effort to get out.

  “Skye wanted me to succeed. She was one of my biggest supporters, without being crazy.” Trace shifted in his seat, turning to face me. “She even told me that this was my time to fly.”

  I chewed on his words as we both hopped out of the truck and walked toward the door. He’d had a changing point in his life. I supposed I’d had one—perhaps many—of them also, yet I’d remained in the same place. I prayed that being here this week would help me find some of the answers I was so desperately seeking—not only about Skye and Georgia but about my own life. I had to get off the treadmill I was on. I wanted to fly also.

  Trace pulled his cowboy hat down lower, shielding his gaze from the setting sun in the distance. “How about this? Stick around and think about it. We’ll talk again after rehearsal.”

  I nodded. “Sounds great.”

  We walked inside, and the band was having fun onstage, singing Aerosmith’s “Walk This Way,” only countrified. Their enthusiasm was infectious. They were all like little boys who’d just been given four-wheelers for Christmas.

  “Guys, I’d like to introduce you all to my future sister!” Trace said, walking toward them.

  The men onstage all paused.

  With Trace’s hand on my arm, he pulled me toward the foot of the stage.

  “Everyone, this is Gabby. Gabby, this is everyone.”

  The guy playing guitar, a tall man with dark hair and eyes so blue I could see them from where I stood, nodded toward me. “I’m Wentworth. People call me Wentworth.”

  The rest of the guys chuckled.

  “Wentworth and I have been best friends since sixth grade,” Trace said. “We never dreamed this would actually become a reality.”

  “Music used to just be something we used to get the girls.” Wentworth grinned. With his model-like good looks, I was certain that he didn’t need a guitar to help him get any dates.

  “I’m Dudley,” the drummer said. He was on the shorter side with long hair pulled into a ponytail and a brooding air about him. “People call me Dud, which, I assure you, is no reflection of my personality.”

  The guys all heckled him a moment.

  “And I’m Leroy, the bassist. I have nothing clever to say, except watch out for these guys. It’s always the smart mouths who get you in trouble.” He was heavyset with a warm personality and a deep laugh.

  “Great to meet you all,” I started.

  Trace turned toward me. “Make yourself at home, Gabby, and if these guys give you any trouble, you just let me know.”

  As I settled back to listen to the band, my mind drifted to life at home. I wondered how Chad was making out with the business today. We were the co-owners of Squeaky Clean Crime Scene Cleaning and Renovations. We were going through some growing pains right now, but Chad assured me he could handle the workload this week.

  Meanwhile, my friend Garrett Mercer had taken off for Africa. He’d invited me to go along, but I’d felt like I needed to stay where I was and get my own affairs in order, no matter how tempting the idea might be. His trip was only supposed to last a month, but he’d already been gone six weeks. I took that to mean he was having a good time.

  Then there was Riley. There was always Riley, whether I wanted him to be there or not. We’d been engaged, but a homicidal maniac had shot him in the head before we said, “I do.” Long story short, he was recovering from a brain injury and had moved back home with his parents so they could help take care of him. I had to admit that hauling him to therapy every day had been exhausting, but I’d been willing to do it. He’d feared it was too much on me, though.

  My heart had been twisted in knots since all of it happened, and I didn’t know what I wanted anymore. My heart seemed to say I should wait for as long as it took for Riley to recover and see the light, so to speak. Logic dictated that I should move on. Every day I prayed about it and hoped to find the wisdom I needed for the future. Each day, I prayed for more grace for the journey. And, every day, I seemed to struggle.

  “Here’s some stuff you might want to look at.” Jono appeared with a folder in his hands. “There’s some pictures of Skye—Skye Flores is her full name—and other information. I put together some names and addresses. Stuff you may need to know, including some information about Georgia.”

  “You did?” I questioned.

  He sighed and nodded. “I want to figure out what happened to this girl just as much as Trace does. He needs to have his head in the game, and until Skye is found, I’m not sure he will.”

  I flipped through a couple of papers and stopped at some scribbled notes about Georgia. “Just curious—how do you know Georgia’s last name and address? I thought she was just a fan girl. Trace also had her picture in his wallet.”

  Jono shrugged. “It was pretty easy. She started an online fan club for Trace. Her name is right there. A quick Google search led me to her address. She sent Trace a picture, and—before you ask—I told him to put it in his wallet today, because I knew he was meeting with you. He doesn’t normally carry it around.”

  “Do you know if Trace has ever been to Georgia’s house before?” I asked carefully.

  He shook his head. “Are you crazy? No way. After Skye disappeared, Trace wanted to track Stalker Girl down and demand answers. I told him that was a terrible idea. Besides, Georgia might get too much pleasure out of it, you know? She’s messed up in the head, and I didn’t want Trace to do
anything that might feed her fantasies. I told Trace to call the police instead and let them handle it.”

  “And that’s when the police concluded that Skye left on her own free will?”

  “Exactly. They took an initial report but then closed the case.”

  “So you think that Georgia may be trying to eliminate any other woman from Trace’s life.”

  “Simply said, yes. If there was foul play involved, I have no doubt that Georgia was behind it.”

  I wasn’t sure I had a case, at all . . . unless someone had tried to cover up Skye’s abduction by calling into her work and pretending to be Skye in order not to arouse any suspicions. If that were the case, then why not send a text to Trace also to further throw everyone off the scent?

  “Gabby, I need you to find some answers for us. The tour starts in a week. This whole Skye thing could ruin Trace’s chances of hitting it big. He needs to focus on his career right now.”

  Not to mention a woman’s life could be on the line. Life was more important than a career.

  Despite the icky feeling Jono gave me, I nodded. I would help—for Trace’s sake. “I’ll see what I can do.”

  “And you let me know if you have any more questions. Please.”

  As the band rehearsed, I flipped through the folder. I came across a picture of Skye. She was a pretty woman with long, dark hair that had natural-looking auburn highlights. The picture looked professional, based on the precise arrangement of all the elements.

  She sat by a kitchen table, her legs crossed and cowboy boots showing beneath her jeans. Behind her, the sun streamed in through the window, and cheerful-looking flowers graced the kitchen table.

  I sat there for a few minutes, reviewing all the information and trying to solidify the case in my mind. After an hour, I stretched and realized my back ached and my eyelids were getting heavy.

  I needed to check into my hotel and get unpacked. I’d chew on the rest of this information at my hotel.

 

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