Page 134 of Perfect Pitch

“See? Mama didn’t care. Well, she did, but she trusts my instincts. And right now, they’re screaming at me there’s something wrong.”

Carys interjects, “What do you think happened?”

“That’s just it, I don’t know. I’ve tried home, her office. No answer. I’ve sent texts; they’re delivered, but she’s not responding.”

“It could be she’s just processing everything,” Beckett points out.

Austyn fries him with a look promising retribution if he said something that asinine again. “She’s had twenty years to process you being the father of her baby, Beckett. I don’t think she’d leave while I try to do the same for nothing.”

After understanding Austyn’s worry is sincere, it doesn’t take long for Beckett to offer up the use of his plane to his daughter—especially after Austyn tore into him for not reaching out. “Tell me what you need and it’s yours.”

For a moment, stunned incredulity replaces the abject worry on Austyn’s face before suspicion sets in. “Why? Why now? It’s been three days, and I haven’t heard a word from you. I thought you might reach out to me. It’s not like they”—she flings an arm out to encompass their legal team—“are going to just drop your cell number in my lap so we can skip off to a basketball game.”

Beckett sneers, “I hate organized sports.”

“Me too”

“I much prefer rodeo,” he declares, as if it’s the sport of kings.

I want to groan knowing I have nights of watching rodeo in my future between Austyn and her father. Knowing Beckett, he’ll deliberately mute the television and listen to ’80s music while watching the riders. And Austyn will sing right along with him, I think with a flicker of tenderness.

“Same. If I can’t see it at the pens, I love watching it at Rodeo Ralph’s.” Austyn says this so fervently, I want to see the inside of this place for myself.

Especially when Beckett immediately balks. “You’re too young to get in there.”

“He’s turned it into more than just a bar. Now you can get food there.”

“Really? Is it any good?” Beckett’s interest is immediately piqued.

Austyn snorts. “No, it totally sucks. I go just to get a free beer on occasion.”

He strangles on a laugh. “How does your mother feel about that?”

God bless women with an answer for everything. Austyn rolls her eyes heavenward. “Ask her yourself.”

“Trust me, I will. After we find her.”

* * *

Austyn is so tense during the flight she’s barely uttered two words to her father. All she’s done is type messages to her family members over and over.

Her head falls forward in defeat as her iPad clatters to the seat beside her.

I surge to my feet, ready to offer her comfort when I receive a warning glare from Beckett. Seconds later, my phone vibrates with a text.

Austyn:

I need you. I’m scared.

Mitch:

You’re strong, Beats.

Austyn:

Come here. Please?

Mitch:

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