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Chet waited for Mia and Wrigley to step inside before following, closing the door behind them. Just like Missy’s floral frock and Bobby’s denim overalls, nothing had changed about the Truly’s home in years. Glass figurines cluttered the built-in bookcases in the living room, the same furniture his own grandparents had owned all faced an old tube television, and photos of Missy and Bobby’s daughter who’d died tragically in her twenties hung on the walls.
He never doubted Bobby and Missy’s own loss was one of the things that had softened Chet’s heart to the older couple—and opened their arms to him. Understanding someone else’s pain brought about a brotherhood that no one wants to be a part of.
Mia glanced over her shoulder as she followed Missy down the narrow hallway that led to the kitchen. Wrigley stayed glued to her side. Her raised brow asked an unspoken question.
Chet nodded, understanding she wanted to make sure he was all right. The knots in his gut might say otherwise, but he hoped those knots would slip away after this conversation.
Missy scooted around the kitchen, shuttling coffee cups, plates, and food to the square table that sat in the middle of the room. “Go on now. Take a seat.”
Knowing she’d refuse any offered help, he did as directed.
Mia settled in the chair beside him. “It smells amazing in here.”
Missy beamed. “Thank you, dear. Old family recipe.” She placed a napkin on each plate, filled their mugs, then finally took a seat, her gaze pinned on the dog. “Spill it.”
“A friend dropped this dog off for me earlier,” Mia explained. “I wasn’t sure if I was allowed to have a dog in my apartment, and Chet suggested we stop by and ask.”
Missy arched her penciled in brows sky-high. “Oh did he?”
Chet squirmed in his chair.
“If it’s a problem, I’ll give the dog back. It’s no big deal.” Mia rambled, her words spilling out.
Missy patted her hand. “It’s not that dear. Bobby and I don’t mind if you own an animal as long as you take care of the sweet thing and make sure he doesn’t destroy anything. What I don’t understand is why Chet wouldn’t just pick up the phone.”
Chet fought a grin. Missy wasn’t one to beat around the bush. A trait he both appreciated and despised. “Where’s Bobby?”
Missy stiffened her spine. “Hunting.”
“Since when?”
“Three nights ago. He took off as soon as we got home. He hated being trapped on that boat and needed to stretch his legs, he said.” She nibbled the top of her muffin then washed it down with a sip of coffee. “I mean, there was plenty of space to walk on the ship. But you know Bobby. Have you ever been on a cruise, dear?” She aimed the question at Mia.
Mia smiled. “No, ma’am.”
“Missy, we need to talk to Bobby. It’s important,” Chet said, cutting to the heart of the matter. He didn’t like the way she tried to change the subject. As if she were hiding something.
She waved away his worry. “He’ll come ‘round when he’s ready.”
“Have you spoken with the police? Eddy?” He took a bite of his muffin. Cinnamon and sugar melted in his mouth, and the tart taste of warm blueberries exploded on his tongue.
Missy sighed. “Yes, and yes. I like Cruz, but that brother of his doesn’t understand the way things work here. I can’t just call Bobby and tell him to come home.”
“Does Bobby know what was found on his property?” Mia asked. “I’m sure he’d want to be as cooperative as possible if he understood what was at stake.”
Missy fiddled with the front of her apron, refusing to make eye contact with either one of them. “I don’t know if Bobby knows or not.”
The deliberate way in which she weighed her words set Chet on edge. “What do you mean?”
Tears filled Missy’s eyes. “I don’t know where he is. I haven’t seen him in about two weeks.”
Mia’s jaw dropped. “What about the cruise?”
Missy shrugged, finally lifting her gaze to meet his. “He didn’t want to go, and I refused to stay. Refused to miss out on my dream. I came home to a note he was hunting and would be back soon.”
The muffin turned to lead in Chet’s stomach. Bobby hadn’t just been gone for a couple nights, he’d been gone for weeks. With no witnesses, no communication, and no alibi.
16
