Her Stolen Past by Amanda Stevens

Author:Amanda Stevens
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2013-12-15T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TEN

CLINT’S MIND WAS MADE UP. He was going to Texas.

First thing the next morning he made all the arrangements, and then he went to talk to Keegan about his plans. He didn’t give his son any specifics, just that he was going to be out of town for a day or two, and was relieved when Keegan accepted the vague explanation without a lot of questions.

Next, Clint went by the library to talk to Beth. He’d debated on whether or not he should tell her what he was up to, but in the end, his conscience won out. He couldn’t go poking around in her past, in her life, without her consent.

But when he got to the library that morning, Lisa Darnell informed him that Beth had gone away for a few days.

“A family emergency, she said.”

“Did she say where she was going?” Clint pressed.

Lisa shook her head. “She didn’t say. But I heard her on the phone making reservations. She said something about Austin. That’s in Texas, right?”

Clint thanked her and started to hurry out of the library when Lisa called after him. “Mr. Cooper?”

He turned.

“I don’t know if this helps or not, but she asked for a one-way ticket. I thought that was kind of strange.”

Strange and disturbing, because evidently, Beth didn’t plan on coming back.

* * *

BETH WAS EXHAUSTED. Her flight out of Logan had been delayed because of bad weather, which meant that she’d missed her connection in Dallas. Then, once she’d finally arrived in Austin, she’d had trouble renting a car. She’d gotten lost twice on her way out of the city, missed her exit off I-35 and was almost halfway to San Antonio before she realized her mistake. By the time she pulled up in front of the Flamingo Motel in Mystique, it was late afternoon.

The place looked like something from an old Route 66 poster. A six-foot flamingo in shocking-pink neon hovered on the roof over the office doorway, while a flock of the plastic variety adorned the grounds.

The flamboyant motel, like the rest of Mystique, seemed completely out of character for a small Texas town. As Beth had driven slowly through the narrow streets, she’d been amazed at how different the reality of the place was from her anticipation of it. On the long flight from Boston, she’d imagined varying shades of brown, dust and tumbleweeds, nothing much on the horizon but a scraggly mesquite tree or cactus.

But Mystique was a beautiful little town, nestled in the rolling landscape of the Texas Hill Country. The quaint stucco houses that lined the shaded streets were painted in pastels and trimmed with window boxes spilling over with impatiens. The main thoroughfare was cobblestone, protected by a thick canopy of leaves that blocked all but faint patches of sunlight.

Beth could see why the town would be attractive to an artist seeking peace and quiet to create. Or one needing to escape a terrifying episode with a madwoman, she thought grimly as she got out of her car and strode up the walkway to the motel office.

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