Page 55 of The Last Grift
Actually, Gabrieldidthink Elton would have said something at this point. He thought they trusted each other—within reason.
His stomach churned as he left the kitchen and went into the living room, the empty recliner mocking him. “Fuck, this is not good. Not good at all.”
He wasted another few minutes peeking into the rest of the rooms, including Elton’s bedroom in case he was taking a nap. Nope. Gabe followed that up with pacing back and forth in the tiny living room, looking out the window every few seconds hoping to see Elton slowly making his way to the porch. But his diligence was not rewarded with the reappearance of an old geezer that Gabe was far too attached to.
And there was only one person on Heartstone that Gabriel could ask for help in locating Elton.
Fucking Ranger Man.
TWENTY-THREE
CASEY
Friday
Casey knewhe’d dropped the ball, and he felt terrible about it. He should have stopped by Elton’s first thing and told him about finding Gordon’s truck. But he hated being the bearer of bad news, so after Karne had slammed out of headquarters, Casey had spent some time catching up on unfinished paperwork. He’d checked in with Randy from Waste Management about the dumpster of despair, he’d retrieved the trash from the battlements and checked on the RV campers lodging at the beach. Then he’d gone home using the excuse he needed to gather his thoughts, which was known commonly as a procrastination tactic. He’d taken the coward’s way out and, as Charming Fucker had pointed out, let the sheriff’s sycophant deliver the news.
Now his thoughts were gathered. Bowie had eaten. Casey’d chomped down a handful of raw veggies and hummus. The morning cereal bowl and coffee cup were washed and put away. There was nothing left for him to do but head over toElton’s and apologize. Elton wasn’t Gordon’s bio family, but he’d taken the younger man under his wing just like he had Casey.
“Shall we do the thing?”
Bowie cocked his head. Duh. Of course.
Out of habit, Casey double-checked to make sure his hard drive was stashed away in the locked drawer then pocketed his keys. Before he could take his coat off its hook, Bowie jumped to his feet and raced to the companionway with a warning bark. Make that several warning barks.
Then Casey heard the metallic clink of the marina’s security gate closing and the thump of footsteps approaching the end of the pier where theBarbarawas moored.
“Christ, what now?”
It wasn’t Elton. The steps were moving too fast for it to be the older man. And the other boat owners never randomly stopped by at this time of year, especially not at night. That left the one infuriating option: Gabriel Fucking Karne. Casey did not want to deal with Karne’s brand of horseshit right now. Not when he felt guilty about fucking up already.
Aggressive banging on the hull was followed by Karne’s voice. “Lundin, open up. I know you’re in there. This is important, Elton is missing.” The boat rocked, meaning that Gabriel was climbing aboard regardless of permission. Bowie, inexplicably, stopped the frantic barking and swung his tail back and forth.
“Really? This guy?” Casey said to the dog. “The door’s unlocked, come aboard,” he called out to his unexpected—unwanted—visitor.
Seconds later, Karne descended into the cabin, his chest rising and falling quickly like he’d run all the way from Elton’s. Or at least from his car to the end of the dock.
“Elton is missing,” Karne repeated.
“Hold on a minute.” Casey held his hand up, palm out, index finger raised. “How can you be sure?”
From his body language and expression, Casey knew that Karne was convinced there was something wrong. But couldn’t there be a reasonable explanation?
“His truck is parked in front of his house, but he isn’t there,” Gabriel said breathlessly. “I went to the store and when I came back, he was gone. There’s no sign of him. I looked through the house and around the yard, just in case. Also, the door was unlocked.”
“As much as I hate it, a lot of folks leave their doors unlocked around here. Maybe a friend picked him up?” Casey suggested.
That stopped Karne, but only for a moment. He shook his head.
“No, I was on for dinner. It’s the least I can do since he’s letting me stay there and do some laundry. So why would he up and leave? And even if he did, I think he’s the type who would leave me a note.”
“Why couldn’t he have left a message on your phone? Have you checked?”
Karne’s expression turned wary.
“I lost my phone and haven’t replaced it. For the reasons I’ve already mentioned. Concrete loafers.”
This guy was a piece of work. But then, so was Bowie, who’d brushed the top of his head under Karne’s hand as if he wanted attention from the man. Karne’s fingers absently drifted across the dog’s soft ears several times, earning Charming Fucker another wag of the tail before Bowie flopped down on his bed.
