Page 56 of The Last Grift
“Seriously, me not having a phone is good. The last thing we need right now is my trouble finding me here on Heartstone.”
“How can we be sure your ‘trouble’ hasn’t found you already? Maybe that’s why Elton is missing?”
“Look, Lundin.” Karne was scowling at him. “If my trouble had figured out where I am and I haven’t seen them around yet, they’re more likely to leave me a message that I wouldn’t be able to mistake for anything else. Or they would’ve waited until I got back from the store. Maybe they’d have tied Elton to a chair and threatened him in my presence. Maybe even killed him while making me watch. They do not care for excess baggage, and kidnapping is not on their resumés. So maybe instead of flipping me shit, you checkyourdamn phone.”
He’d known Karne was going to be a problem when he first encountered him in the campground, and every confrontation since then had only reinforced his opinion.
Casey stared at the man who’d barged into his house. Sighing, he plucked his phone off the table where he’d left it earlier and tapped the screen. “Nope. No phone calls from Elton.”
“Try his number.”
Without acknowledging the order, Casey pressed Call. Elton’s number rang, and Casey thought he’d heard a click like it was being answered for a second. Then it continued to ring and went to voicemail.
“Elton, this is Casey, just wondering where you are. Give me a call ASAP. Thanks.”
“Wow, you really do like to boss everyone around.”
“I thought you were worried about Elton, not my social skills.”
“You call those social skills? But”—Karne held up his hand—“you’re right. We can discuss the lack of them at a later date. Can we at least agree, for the time being, that Elton’s disappearance doesn’t have to do with me, and bust a move? Elton is out there somewhere, and I think he’s in danger.”
By mutual agreement,they left Karne’s car parked at the marina. Bowie rode in the back seat, refusing to sit down, his nose pressed to the passenger window as if he understood their mission. The three-minute drive was tense and quiet except for the sound of Bowie’s shuffling and the patter of rain on the Wagoneer’s roof.
Everything seemed normal when they arrived. Elton’s truck was in front of the house and the inside house lights were blazing. Casey held on to hope that Karne had been wrong, hadn’t looked in all the possible places Elton could be. Which, as Karne had pointed out, weren’t many. Reaching across Karne, Casey grabbed a flashlight out of the glove box.
“Always prepared,” Karne muttered.
“Damn right.” Casey popped open his door. “Let’s make sure he’s not here before we start calling around.”
They trudgedacross the muddy yard to the stand-alone workshop located behind Elton’s house. It was dark inside, and Casey tugged at the handle. Locked up tight with a chain and padlock. From the rust and grit on the chain, Casey thought it had been a while since Elton had been back there.
“That seems solid,” Gabriel said, his breath misting in the cold. “I don’t think he could’ve locked himself inside.”
Gabriel was right behind him, standing close enough that Casey imagined he could feel his body heat. It was a distracting, unwelcome thought.
He stepped to the side, away from Gabriel. “Yeah, no.”
Retracing their steps, Casey shone his flashlight around the muddy ground between the house and the metalwork building, looking for footprints that weren’t theirs. As he did so, the rain started to come down hard again, a sheet of heavy mist that immediately permeated all clothing. Dammit, Bowie was theonly one with appropriate outerwear for the weather. Casey cursed himself for not grabbing his slicker. It was completely Karne’s fault for discombobulating him.
“I don’t see any footprints,” Casey said. “If there were any, the rain washed them away already.”
“I suppose you have plaster handy so you can make a mold if we find some,” Gabe snarked. “Maybe a magnifying glass?”
Casey started to point out that they had a serious situation on their hands when it occurred to him that obnoxious humor must be a coping mechanism for Karne. Kind of like cops joking over crime scenes. It didn’t mean they didn’t care, it was just a laugh or cry impulse. He may distrust the guy and find Karne generally unlikeable, but Elton didn’t.
“Actually, investigators don’t use much true plaster anymore, it’s too fragile.”
“Thanks for the info, Sherlock.”
It would be so easy to disappear Karne into the ravine on the other side of Elton’s workshop, just a gentle push and he would be out of Casey’s hair for a while. Too bad Casey wasn’t a homicidal killer. He’d just have to deal with the man.
“Let’s check the house,” he said with a sigh. “I know you said you looked, but two pairs of eyes and all that.”
Casey went in through the front door first. “You take the right, I’ll go left.”
It took him about two and a half minutes to search the bedrooms and bathroom and conclude that there was no Elton to be found. When Casey emerged from the hallway again, Karne was in the living room with Elton’s cell phone in his hand.
“What are you doing? Where did you find that?”
