Page 35 of Husband Missing

I thought you weren’t working.

Josie rolled her eyes even though he wasn’t there to see it. Technically, there was no reason she couldn’t work. She didn’t text that to Turner.Just tell me.She typeddouchebagand then erased it before hitting send.

No leads on blondie. Geofence didn’t give us anything. GPS on Gina’s car shows she moved it from inside the site to the street 38 minutes before she was stabbed. Doc should be finished autopsy tomorrow but there won’t be any surprisesthere. Waiting on some shit from Hummel once he gets done processing the knife.

Josie’s eyebrows shot up. She almost hadn’t expected him to answer, just to be a dick. Her fingers flew across the screen. A simple thank you. The moment she hit send, she regretted it. Turner would gloat for days now.

The Great Josie Quinn sending me a thank you? In writing, no less. That’s better than any dollar in my jar.

She could visualize the “sweetheart” he’d probably deleted at the end. He was likely screenshotting the exchange right now so he could torture her with it later. Groaning, she put her phone back into her pocket.

“Is that bad news?” Trinity asked.

“If Turner being his normal self is bad news, then yes.”

Trinity kept her eyes on the road, but Josie could see the little smile on her sister’s face. “You mean a perfect gentleman?”

Josie chose to ignore that. She couldn’t look at another social media post about her husband and she couldn’t pester Turner for information on the Phelan case since there weren’t any new developments. Which left her with nothing to do but run her own shadow investigation and try to convince herself she wasn’t doing anything wrong. Hell, even if she was, did it matter? Did anything matter if Noah wasn’t in her life?

“Are you sure about this?” asked Trinity.

Outside, southern Denton flashed past. It was the flattest part of the city, industrial lots giving way to rolling farmland as they crossed into the next county. “If I was the one running the investigation, and Lila was my only lead so far, this is the first place I’d go. So yes, I’m sure.”

It would take time to track down Needle. Especially for Heather’s team. He’d definitely evade them as long as possible. Getting access to Lila’s prison records and Roe Hoyt, if she was still alive, would take some time as well.

Which left Dexter McMann, one of Lila’s former boyfriends. He’d moved in with Lila and Josie when Josie was thirteen and stayed for a year. Until his kindness toward Josie provoked Lila’s wrath.

“Are you having doubts?” asked Josie. “About doing this?”

Trinity laughed. “You’re kidding, right? Don’t you know me at all? I have zero reservations about doing this. I just want to make sure we’re going after the most valuable leads first. I’ve got your back, Josie.”

The hairline fracture in Josie’s mental shield stretched, wanting to open wide. She did her best to stitch it up. “Let’s just hope that he’s already spoken with the state police. If we go in there before they’ve had a chance to talk with him, it’s going to be very bad for me.”

Not just professionally. Josie needed this. Sitting around Gretchen’s house wasn’t going to be enough to keep her from losing her shit.

“We can handle bad,” Trinity said.

Josie nodded. She would take all the bad the world had to offer if it meant finding Noah.

TWENTY-SIX

Farms and wooded game land flashed past their windows. Josie knew they were getting close to Fairfield. Dex still lived on a rural road a couple of miles from the heart of the small, sleepy town. Anxiety buzzed under her skin as his one-story house came into view, though she couldn’t say why. Dex had never been anything but caring and kind toward her. He was a good man. She had often wondered if they would have been able to have a friendship as adults if what Lila had done to him didn’t always hang between them like a poisonous cloud.

Trinity slowed the vehicle in front of a long gravel driveway. “Is this the place?”

The last time Josie was here, the siding of Dex’s home had been a dingy white. He’d obviously had some work done; now it was covered in clean tan siding. Even the poorly constructed additions built alongside the house that Josie remembered now looked shored up and newly painted to match the main house. A couple of rocking chairs sat on the front porch. Two bicycles leaned against the railing. The old red pickup she remembered had been replaced by a slightly newer blue one.

But what told her beyond the shadow of a doubt that this was still Dexter McMann’s home were the stunning woodensculptures carved from tree trunks dotting the two acres of lawn that led to the house. “Look,” she said, pointing to a cluster of them. Three dragons stood in a semicircle, their ancient-looking eyes keeping watch on the road. All of them were massive. As Trinity pulled into the driveway and slowly rolled past, Josie was stunned by the breathtaking detail carved into each one. It looked like the figures had lived in the wood all along and finally been unleashed.

“He made those?” Trinity said, awestruck.

“Yes. He sells them. That’s how he makes a living.”

“This is amazing!” They passed another grouping of carved tree trunks. A mama bear and cub, a hawk, and the grim reaper. An odd combination. “How has no one featured this guy on the news? The national news?”

Josie didn’t answer. As they stopped behind the truck, she saw two more, near the porch. A unicorn and a mermaid.

“I just can’t believe this,” Trinity said. “They’re so detailed.”

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