Page 100 of Carver’s Craving

“We’ll do that, Seth. Thank you.” I met Styx’s gaze.

“Yeah. Thanks. We won’t keep you. Get in touch, okay?”

“Will do.” Seth cut the line.

Styx blinked. Then his eyes watered.

I rose and moved toward him, hauled him to his feet and pulled him into my arms. Then I offered a promise I had no right to. “We’ll find him, Styx. We will.”

Chapter Twenty-Six

Styx

Iclung to Carver as if my life depended on it.

Hell, it just might.

Because if we didn’t find Baxter, then I’d never be upset. Perhaps he had just ghosted me. I’d done what I could, but I still felt like it hadn’t been enough.

Finally, I pulled back. I swiped at my tears.

Carver cupped my cheeks and gently kissed them.

Too much. All too fucking much. Too much kindness. Too much understanding. We needed action, not gentleness. “We need to find him.”

“Of course.”

“No. I mean we have to leave right now. We have to go get him.”

Carver grasped my biceps. Wickedly hard. “Sweetheart, that’s impossible. Mission City might be smaller than Oshawa…”

“One tenth the size.”

“Yes. Which is still pretty big. We don’t even know what we’re looking for. If it was Arlene, and I want to emphasize I’m not positive, then where would we look? They could be literally anywhere in the city. A warehouse, a rental property, a boat—”

“Boat?” My eyes widened. “There’s a marina?”

“A harbor. Sure. Mission City’s on the Fraser River. But we’re talking a small place. I shouldn’t have even suggested it.”

“You know Arlene loves sailing.”

He blinked. “A sailboat on a lake is much different from a boat that might be able to handle the river. Look, Seth said to write down everything we know about Arlene. We should probably add a page for Baxter—in case you missed something. Then maybe a page for the two of them. Because, and I’m loath to bring this up—”

“What?” I might’ve snapped that.

“What if they’re together? What if Baxter is with her voluntarily?”

“Nope. No way. No fucking way.” I could say this with absolute certainty. “Look, we didn’t tell anyone about all the shit she was up to before their split. And what happened afterward? Fucking nuts. Her, the shit she did, and life in general. I remember thinking, just for an instant, that Frank was lucky he didn’t have to deal with her shit anymore. Which was a horrible thing to think. I mean, he died. But—”

Carver’s eyes widened.

“What?”

He pursed his lips. Then let out a long breath. “It’s probably nothing,”

“Probably nothing is all we’ve got.”

Slowly, he nodded. “How about we put away the food? I’ll dig out some paper and I can write this down. Or we can do it on the computer. That might be better. So we can email it to Seth. Did he give you a card?”