Page 68 of Rock and a Hard Place

“It’s Lynnie. She’s been hiding out, but now with the lottery thing, she has to use her real name again.”

He fought back a smile. “I never would have guessed that.” He needed to prevent her from starting another long diatribe. At this rate, Roger would come looking for him. “Well, I should be heading out.” He moved quick to the door before she could begin again.

“Wanna see her room?” the woman blurted.

Peter stopped in his tracks and slowly turned back to her, a huge smile on his face. “I’d like that very much.” If he couldn’t see her in person at least he could see where she lived and make sure it was really her, even though his heart told him it was.

“By the way, my name’s Beatrice, but my friends call me Bea.” She snatched up a key and led him outside, standing a little too close for Peter’s comfort.

He held his breath to avoid inhaling her odious perfume. He gave a pained look at Roger and waved him over. The large man hesitated but joined them.

“Bea, I’d like you to meet a very good friend of mine.

This is Roger.”

“Why, what a pleasure! Two good-lookin’ men in one day. You must be the older brother.” She held out her hand for Roger to kiss. He nearly choked, but shook her hand, which featured claw-length painted fingernails.

“Bea is going to show us Jill’s room. Jill’s not here right now. She’s on her way to Colorado,” Peter recited to Roger.

His friend nodded; understanding lit his eyes.

“She goin’ to turn in her lottery ticket,” Bea chimed in. Roger turned a confused look on Peter.

“That’s right.” Peter grinned.

They followed Bea past a handful of rooms and paused at room six where she inserted the key. Bea turned to them. “You won’t tattle on me, will you?” Her eyes focused on Roger. “I wouldn’t want to get in trouble with DarLynn. She’d never let me watch the place again, and I love meeting new people.”

“Not a word,” Roger promised. “It’ll be our little secret.” He placed one hand on the door frame and leaned close toBea. Peter’s pulse quickened as he pushed the door open and stepped into Libby’s room.

So this is where she’d been. He walked through the small room. He ran his fingers over the faded bedspread. On the dresser sat a stack of books. Schoolbooks. Statistics, world history, psychology. Pride filled his heart. Libby stayed in school. He knew she was smart, but to live in this crummy motel, waitress, and still go to school, amazed him.

Roger blocked the doorway while Bea performed her best moves.

Peter turned and noticed a framed picture on the nightstand. His breath caught in his throat. He recognized a young, carefree Libby, her arms draped over a younger girl who could only be her little sister, Sarah. Her parents stood on each side of them. They were a beautiful family. The weight of all Libby had been through struck him full force. God, he wished she was here right now, but they’d be together again soon.

Reluctantly, he put the photo back in place.

Peter noticed Bea pressed up against Roger. “So then I went to Nashville to sing for this big record producer. He said he liked my style, said I had real panache, whatever that is.” Bea fluttered her peacock lashes again.

He didn’t have the heart to watch Roger suffer any longer. An assault from Bea had to be worse than Roger’s tour of duty in Desert Storm.

“Roger,” Peter interrupted. “I just realized we’re goingto miss our flight if we don’t head out.” He efficiently pushed the two apart. “Bea, it’s been a pleasure and I can’t thank you enough for all your help.”

He beelined to the car and started the engine. Roger literally leapt over the hood, slid in, and slammed his door. Bea flitted after Roger, her words still flying. Peter backed up, sped away, and pretended not to notice.

Roger glared at Peter. “You owe me big-time for that.”

Peter howled in laughter and honked the horn as he cruised out of town, one step closer to Libby.

24

The next day, ominous clouds thundered over the Red Rocks Amphitheatre. “We are not canceling this concert,” Peter said. “I don’t care if there are torrential rains, earthquakes, or tsunamis; this show is happening.”

He glared at the Red Rocks stage manager, his posse of security, and the management team. Peter’s family stood in formation behind him, a silent army of supporters.

“As I said before, it’s not safe.” The stage manager held his ground. “With an outdoor amphitheater, there are added dangers when inclement weather strikes.”

“And I’ll say it again, we are not canceling.” Peter said, hands on his hips, a formidable opponent.

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