“I didn’t. I knew we only had a few seconds, so I entered in my info. I used your name, just my email. It’s all good.”
“Hey, Pete, we got another one.” Garrett yelled across the presidential suite of the Four Seasons Hotel.
Peter braced himself and tried not to get his hopes up. Garrett took it upon himself to monitor the incoming “Libby” surveys. He still felt guilty for all the damage he’d done. Keeping track of the surveys was not an easy job, Peter knew, since the site received thousands of hits a day. Fortunately, the survey system only forwarded entries with all the questions answered correctly.
“Yeah?” Peter crossed the plush carpet to the laptop. “I don’t know. This seemed like such a good idea a couple of weeks ago, but all it’s doing is turning our female fans into private eyes, code breakers, and little liars.”
When he created this contest to find Libby, it was like the floodgates opened in cyberspace. Everyone wanted to win the prize—seats to a show and the chance to meet Peter Jamieson. A huge network of followers worked the odds and figured out the right answers. The odds of randomlygetting all ten questions correct, with six possible answers each, were slim. However, as the search went on, more girls worked the odds and got them right.
“Why in the world should I think this one will be Libby?” His frustration at not finding her was beginning to get the best of him. She was out there somewhere and he couldn’t find her.
Garrett grimaced. “I don’t know. You have to believe. If you stop trying, you’ll never find her. This could be her, and when she shows up at Red Rocks, answers the final question correctly, and gets backstage, it’ll all be worth it.” He was right. Peter felt desperate to find Libby, and together the three brothers promoted the search contest everywhere. They did radio and television interviews, put it on social media everywhere. Garrett even made sure it hit all the fan magazines, but time was running out.
Only one concert remained. “Okay, where’s she from?”
“Pebble Creek, Georgia.” Garrett scrolled down the screen. “Aw, never mind. Her name isn’t even Libby. That was dumb. Why would a girl pretend to be Libby and then use a different name?”
They’d revealed the fact that Libby was her first name, but didn’t reveal her last name or any other details. “What name did she use?” Peter raised his water bottle for a drink.
“Jill Munroe.”
Peter froze, the bottle inches from his mouth. “Whatdid you say?” He lowered the bottle and turned to the computer screen.
“Jill Munroe, why? Does that mean something?”
Peter stared at the name on the screen. “Yeah, it does. She told me once that her mom lovedCharlie’s Angelsback in the seventies, and almost named her Jill after the character, Jill Munroe, but her dad refused.”
He grinned at Garrett and smacked him on the back. “You found her, man, that’s her!” Peter turned to leave the hotel suite.
“Where you going?” Garrett asked.
“Pebble Creek, Georgia. Where else?”
“Hold up, Romeo. You forgot something.”
“What?” Peter scanned the room as he patted down his pockets to make sure he had his wallet and phone.
“A concert. Tonight. At Soldier Field.”
“Aw, crap.”
“You have about a hundred fans at the meet and greet. All those Libby wannabes.” Garrett smirked, but Peter could see Garrett’s relief that they’d found her.
The concert felt pointless now. He knew deep in his soul the girl, Jill Munroe from Pebble Creek, could only be Libby. There was no doubt in his mind. “Fine.” He stood, hands on his hips, unsure what to do now that he had to wait until tomorrow.
“You might want to ask Roger to get you a flight out of here,” Garrett prompted.
“Yeah, I’ll do that.”
“And you might want to call ahead.”
“What for? I want to surprise her.”
“Just in case, man. What if it isn’t her?”
“It’s her.” With that, Peter left to find Roger, but couldn’t resist a whoop and a punch of his fist in the air.
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