“He always checks in.”
Caleb lowered the cable strippers. “Traffic’s bad. The radio said there are closures north of town.”
“He took Breaker.”
“You told him to.”
“Yes.”
“Then he took Breaker.”
I knew that. Noah argued reflexively, but when it mattered, he listened. He would complain about the added distance and then follow the safest route because he knew I worried.
At eight fifty-one, I called him.
The call went directly to voicemail.
I ended it without leaving a message.
Something cold gathered beneath my sternum.
Owen stopped sanding. “Want me to ring Bellweather?”
“I’ll do it.”
The marina office answered on the fourth ring.
“No, Mr. Bennett hasn’t arrived,” the receptionist said. “We were expecting him around eight thirty.”
“Call me if he shows up.”
“Of course.”
Caleb watched my face.
I dialed Noah again.
Voicemail.
The cold feeling spread.
“Maybe his phone died,” Owen said.
“It was charged.”
“Could’ve dropped it.”
“He keeps it clipped inside his jacket.”
Caleb’s mouth tightened. He knew Noah’s habits nearly as well as I did.
I opened the location app we used for company vehicles. The van’s signal had stopped moving thirty-seven minutes earlier on Breaker Avenue.
I stared at the small blue dot.
“What?” Caleb asked.
“It’s stationary.”
