by Jodi Thomas
Colby McBride watched the man he’d seen in the restroom walking toward an Audi. He had the stride of a man who’d once marched, Colby thought. Now, the guy looked like a preacher going to a funeral, not the type who’d give a hitchhiker a ride.
There was something about him Colby couldn’t peg. A priest maybe who didn’t seem to fit into his clothes. Or maybe it was his skin that he didn’t fit into. He was a tall man, 6’4”, maybe 6’5”, with black hair slicked back and eyes that missed little. The man of the cloth was drinking in every detail of his surroundings.
Colby sensed there was more to this preacher than met the eye. Colby could usually spot the ones who weren’t what they seemed—a drug pusher or someone who drove stolen cars out of state. Private investigator or undercover feds tracking movements on the interstate. They moved easy, almost invisible, and they watched their surroundings as if their life depended on it.
As a state trooper, Colby McBride had seen all types in the ten years he’d worked the Texas highways. If he’d been in uniform he might have pulled this guy over or maybe followed him a few miles down the road.
But then, Colby was always skeptical of strangers, and even sometimes friends. He caught himself looking for the criminal in everyone he passed. Maybe he was wrong this time, but he would swear this easygoing man in black was hiding something.
Colby laughed to himself. Get in line, he almost said aloud. Who isn’t hiding something these days? People were rarely what they seemed, and today that included him.
He hadn’t felt properly dressed in a decade if he wasn’t wearing a badge and his service weapon. But today—no badge, no patrol car, no backup. Now was Colby’s turn to pretend to be someone else. For the first time in his career he’d be investigating off the record.
Texas Ranger Max Mackenzie had asked Colby to go into Honey Creek without calling too much attention to himself. Check the place out. Find out what was going on. Keep any scandal away from the Mackenzie family and especially his sister, who just happened to be the town’s mayor.
And damn if the assignment wasn’t so intriguing Colby had to break out of the hospital to make it to Honey Creek as fast as possible. Doing this favor for the Mackenzie family would be great for his career. He borrowed scrubs and a coat, had a friend pick him up at the back door of the hospital, and headed straight to his unofficial assignment.
The friend dropped him off at the nearest rest stop to Honey Creek, and Colby planned to hitchhike into town before noon. He’d cowboyed enough in his college days to drift into town and fit in. The friend had provided clothes, and Colby had made up a great cover story.
Max had told him over the phone to spend the day mingling with the locals. Mingle? Colby had no idea how to mingle. It wasn’t in his skill set. But he’d come up with something.
Now, with no sleep and little money, Colby walked toward a line of trucks on the back lot of the rest stop. They’d probably stopped to rest until full light. Places like this were quieter and sometimes safer than the big truck stops near towns.
The driver of the third rig was walking around his cattle truck. He wasn’t tall, but he was wide, with a beard like a scruffy Santa Claus.
Colby kept his hat low. “Mornin’,” he said. “Any chance a cowhand could catch a ride. I got a girl waiting for me in Honey Creek. My pickup broke down a few miles back and I’m not sure how long my girl will wait.”
The truck driver looked him up and down.
“I got kin in Honey Creek who’ll help me tow the truck in later.” Colby shrugged. “It’s only forty miles.”
“I’m not supposed to take on passengers, but if you’re stranded, I could take you a few miles. I’d enjoy the company.”
Colby nodded his thanks. If he ever stopped this truck on the highway for a driving violation, he’d return the favor.
Colby had made two phone calls, in order to disappear from his real life. One to ask for a few vacation days and another to his neighbor asking him to pick up the mail.
Max had made it clear that no one was to know what Colby would be doing in Honey Creek. He even hinted that he’d owe Colby a big favor for doing this. Most of the Mackenzie family were in politics. They couldn’t afford any rumors.
Apparently, the mayor and little sister of Max, Piper Jane Mackenzie, had a fiancé who had disappeared. The town sheriff of Honey Creek suggested to the nearest news station that this could be foul play. It had been a back-page news note until the fiancé’s car was found floating in the Brazos River just outside of town. No fiancé. No body.
Colby thought about turning off his personal phone. The only one who ever called him was his ex-girlfriend, and she just dialed now and then to remind him that she never wanted to hear from him again.
But then Max might call. He was collecting info from official sources and promised to send along anything significant
This would be Colby’s first private job. An “off the books” case. A missing person’s case if he was lucky, a murder maybe, who knows. Colby hadn’t fully believed it was real until Mayor Piper Mackenzie called an hour ago and said he needed to start digging fast and report in to her at dusk. She sounded as bossy as her brother.
She’d had an all business kind of voice, like her idea of a fun time would be guessing how many paper clips are in the jar on her desk. Maybe the fiancé just got bored and left, and she was up before dawn trying to find him.
Colby could picture her just from her voice. Flat shoes, shapeless suit with padded shoulders to make her look like a general, hair short or tied back so tight her eyes bugged out. Glasses, definitely glasses. She’d expect his work to be the best, and he planned to do just that. An assignment like this could move him up the ranks faster and a connection with a mayor, rumored to be on her way up in politics, couldn’t hurt. Who knows, she might be governor in ten years and he’d be guarding her as the Texas Ranger he’d always planned to be from the day he signed on with the Texas Highway Patrol.
Problem was, her call came in before dawn while he was getting stitched up from a really bad evening at work.
Don’t bleed on the mayor, Colby reminded himself as the truck driver pulled into the postcard-cute town of Honey Creek.
Chapter 3
Friday late afternoon
Piper
Mayor Piper Jane Mackenzie sat in her cramped office on the fourth floor of city hall, looking out over the town square. She’d barely slept in three days, but by dusk she’d meet the man who would help her get to the truth.
Her nitwit almost fiancé was still missing. Which wasn’t a crime but could mean trouble for both their families. She’d known Boone Buchanan all her life. His grandfather and her grandfather had been friends and political allies. People had teased her since she was a kid that she’d grow up and marry him. She’d be the governor’s wife and he’d be the governor. Only Piper wanted to be the governor.
Boone was handsome, impulsive, fun, and popular all the way through law school, while she was plain, shy, and bookish.
But Boone also had a wild streak. Life was a game to him and he had to win. Their engagement was just a card up his sleeve that he’d played for fun or to get something he wanted. She wouldn’t be surprised if he walked into town with some tall tale.
The truth and Boone had never been more than passing strangers. She’d let him win at games when they were kids, she’d listened to his rants when they were teenagers, and she’d gone with him to a few political rallies where he rarely talked to her.
Six months ago, at a big fund-raiser for her father, Boone had seemed the perfect date. He lived in Austin. He was rich and handsome. His family was powerful. He was a young partner in his uncle’s law firm. Surely he’d outgrown his pranks and temper tantrums.
She talked about her work and he acted like he cared. He talked about himself and she made an effort to act like she was listening. Best of all, there were no sparks between them. She didn’t have time for romance in her life and she wasn’t his type.
&n
bsp; Boone liked the press he got with a mayor on his arm. After their first fund-raiser, he offered to accompany her again, getting friendly when there was a camera around.
Last month someone, probably Boone, leaked a rumor that he and Piper were engaged. Maybe he wanted a little more attention.
She should have shot the rumor down, but Piper didn’t see any harm in it. It was just a rumor. It’d die on its own and Boone would get the notice he craved. Just what the youngest in the firm thought he needed to build his base in the law office.
He never visited her in Honey Creek, but when Piper was in Austin, Boone was always showing up, hanging around, even saying things like “we think” as if she and Boone had somehow locked brains.
It embarrassed her, but Piper was just shy enough not to want to cause a scene.
But then he vanished after visiting half the bars in the county Tuesday night, and the rumor of their engagement seemed to become a fact. His red limited edition BMW was found floating in the Brazos River, and no one had seen Boone since. She’d heard that he used the valley around Honey Creek to let loose, though he’d never mentioned it to her. He might not be able to get drunk in Austin without some reporter snapping a shot, but here no one noticed, or cared.
To make matters worse, the county sheriff, LeRoy Hayes, had also disappeared. Then the deputies seemed to have gone deaf, mute, and blind, and the dispatcher declared she’d only answered the 911 calls. Everyone in town believed the deputies and the dispatcher knew something, but they were loyal to the boss.
As stories flew as fast as the north wind, Piper could almost see her career crumbling around her. Part of her felt like she was standing with the men at the Alamo. She might not win, but she wouldn’t go down without a fight.
In whispers people began to talk. Some said she killed Boone because he cheated on her. Some said her father had him kidnapped just at the thought of Boone becoming his son-in-law. Autumn, her secretary, suggested that he killed himself. Piper had even heard that the beauty shop talk thought Boone hadn’t been near town. His car could have been stolen and taken for a joy ride by someone who fit his description.
One old vet at the coffee shop said Boone wanted to step away from the world. Boone had served three years in the army. That’ll mess with your mind. Piper didn’t bother to point out that Boone was messed up long before he went in the army.
Piper couldn’t deny the engagement now. She’d look like a fool. All she could do was wait until he showed up. She’d act relieved to see him, then vanish from the press. A few months later, she’d quietly break up on the first busy news day.
Piper decided not to dwell on the stories. Boone wouldn’t have killed himself. He loved himself too much. Her father would never kill a future son-in-law. If he’d been turned that way, he would have murdered the guy she had married in law school and divorced less than a year later.
Dating Boone had ended some talk about her being the only mayor with a stone-cold heart. All she wanted to do was serve the people and keep her private life private. Which shouldn’t be too hard since she had no private life.
Looking out on the town she loved, Piper tried to think of a way out of this mess. Of course, she could call a press conference, but that might just draw more attention. More questions.
Yesterday she’d finally called Max, not because he was a Texas Ranger, but because he was her big brother. He’d always thought his job was to tell her what to do and he didn’t hesitate. He’d said simply that first they had to get the facts, and he’d send someone down to do just that. Then he’d hire a researcher in Austin to dig through every detail of Boone’s life. Boone wasn’t the squeaky-clean guy his family would like everyone to believe. There were whispers of money trouble in Boone’s past. Gambling debts.
Max’s suggestions seemed like a plan. Not much of a plan, but at least she’d be doing something besides pacing.
A hundred-year-old clock on the wall behind her chimed five times. Over the three years she’d been mayor, she’d grown so used to the sound she rarely noticed it. But now it reminded her that another day had gone by. Her career, her life seemed to be ticking away.
“You need anything else before I go?” Autumn yelled from her desk in the next room. It never occurred to the secretary to use the phone or step into the doorway to ask her question.
“No, thanks,” Piper answered, feeling as always like she had no control over her one real employee. There were six more people working at city hall and several departments who reported to the mayor’s office, but they all seemed to answer to Autumn.
And Autumn was loving all this drama. Piper overheard her tell someone that she felt like she was living in a soap opera.
Piper and Autumn O’Toole had graduated from high school together fifteen years ago. While Piper went away to college and then law school, Autumn married right out of high school and hired on as a secretary at the courthouse. She’d worked for the county courts and most of the city offices that filled the top two floors. By the time Piper was elected mayor, her former friend thought she ran the town. As far as the secretary was concerned, Piper was just passing through, while Autumn planned to stay embedded at her government job until retirement.
Piper waited for her once best friend to leave. She hadn’t told Autumn about the man who had an appointment after dark. If she’d done that, half the town would know by dawn tomorrow. The city secretary’s Rolodex mind for gossip was both a blessing and a curse.
Piper heard the click of the file cabinet. The rattle of blinds dropping. The bottom purse drawer opening, then slamming shut. All sounded like the last few ticks of a workday clock. At exactly five p.m. Autumn would open the door leading to the hallway and say a good night to her office.
Piper used to think the farewell was directed at her, but the secretary never waited for a reply. Work was over. Time to get home to her husband and kids, where she’d spend all evening talking about what happened in the courtrooms downstairs and the city offices upstairs. Then she’d return to the office at exactly eight o’clock the next morning, and begin to fill every empty moment talking about how great her children were or complaining about her husband, who apparently hadn’t done anything right since the day after they married. His only saving grace was that he wasn’t as bad as her sister’s husband. Autumn reported on him regularly.
Kicking off her heels, Piper leaned back in her worn leather chair that still smelled a bit like her granddad’s pipe, and enjoyed the now-silent office. Public service was in her blood. Her grandfather had been mayor for thirty-seven years. Her dad was a state senator. Both her brothers were Texas Rangers.
She had a proud heritage, but she knew she didn’t belong in this chair. She agreed with Autumn. She was just passing through. Four or five years from now she planned to move to Dallas or Houston and let someone else take over the worries of Honey Creek. She wasn’t made for a small town, not in her dreams anyway. But this place flowed through her veins, slow and steady as the Brazos River wound around the city limits. Low as the wind blowing down the valley whispering of legends of outlaws and ghosts.
Her heart was here in Honey Creek even if her dreams were in the big city.
Old-timers claimed the town was a hideout back when Texas was its own nation. Over the years misfits seemed to gravitate to the place. A small band of bigamists in the 1800s. Hippies in the 1960s. Survivalists settled on farms to the north of town ten years ago. They stayed just long enough to realize that there was no Starbucks within fifty miles. A coven of witches reportedly ran the local bakery. No one knew for sure, but they made great scones.
Bonnie and Clyde were even said to have stopped for gas. But few believed it. The people of Honey Creek had one talent in spades . . . imagination. They treasured it.
Piper looked over the rolling land just beyond the town’s business lights. Small farms were nestled between clusters of cottages separated by roads as rambling as streams feeding into the highway. Fishing shacks were scattered along the riv
er’s banks with dock lights already blinking. Now and then a trailer park caught the last light of day and reflected it back to her. She smiled at her view from her office window. The beauty of her town might haunt dreams with legends and stories that floated on the evening breeze, but it was also a place where ideas thrived.
Without much thought she tiptoed to the hallway and bought her fourth canned Coke of the day from a machine so old it shivered loud enough to wake the janitor. When Piper went back to her office, she didn’t bother to lock the door. She read the incoming mail stacked almost a foot high as she waited.
As time passed she moved to her computer and pulled up every newsfeed she could find about what was happening in her hometown. Boone’s disappearance had made a dozen papers today. She might be sitting on ground zero, but the press seemed to have all the facts. Some true. Some not.
The good news was that the number of articles was down from yesterday. The bad news, she had a feeling everyone in the state was laying odds on what really happened to Boone Buchanan. Some said he was afraid to break up with the mayor, so he killed himself. Or was so drunk he thought the river was a winding road. Or, the rich lawyer wanted better than a mousy small-town mayor, so he faked his death. Maybe her family had had him killed because he knew one too many secrets about the Mackenzies. One neighbor of Boone’s in Austin even suggested his own family sent him somewhere because he had embarrassed them one too many times.
One reporter hinted that dumb lawyers, even good-looking ones, just don’t make it in the capital city.
Her granddad was probably cussing in his casket. He’d left her to take care of the town, not to become a storyline for one of the TV crime shows.
Piper stood and began to pace. She needed to have her strategy ready when the specialist her brother had hired showed up. No one, including Autumn, was to know who he really was. He reported directly to her brother, and her, of course.
