“Maybe he pulled over.”
“There’s nothing there.”
The location was pinned on the wooded ascent above the river. No businesses. No houses. No turnoffs.
I was reaching for my coat when the office door opened.
Marlowe lifted his head from beneath the heater.
Two sheriff’s deputies stepped inside.
One was an older woman with silver hair pulled into a knot. The other was a young man whose rain jacket shone with water.
People in uniform entered a workplace for all kinds of reasons.
Permits. Theft reports. Questions about harbor property.
Neither deputy looked at the boats.
The woman’s gaze found me immediately.
“Mr. Callahan?”
The workshop seemed to contract.
“Yes.”
“I’m Deputy Alvarez. This is Deputy Kemp. Are you the owner of Callahan Marine Works?”
“Yes.”
“Is Noah Bennett employed here?”
The wrench slid from my hand and struck the concrete.
I barely heard it.
“He’s my partner,” I said. “We live upstairs.”
Her expression changed. Not pity, exactly. Recognition of what she was about to do to me.
“There’s been a serious road incident on Breaker Avenue.”
The floor moved.
Caleb was suddenly beside me, though I hadn’t seen him cross the bay.
“Is he alive?” I asked.
Deputy Alvarez did not hesitate. “Yes.”
Air tore into my lungs.
Alive.
I fixed myself to the word.
“He was found in the company van,” she continued. “A commercial load shifted during the storm. His vehicle was struck and forced through the roadside barrier.”
