“Will do. Let us know when you find her.”
I’m already halfway out the door to my truck when I hang up. The moment my phone links to the audio in my truck, I dial Carson’s father.
“Hey, coincidence. I was just about to call you,” he opens with.
That doesn’t feel particularly encouraging.
“Don’t tell me you’re looking for Carson?”
“I am, actually.”
“Fuck.” The profanity slips out before I can stop it. “I can’t get a hold of Tate; she was supposed to be home by six.”
Outside the truck, dusk is setting in and I don’t like it.
“Shit. Same for Carson. Where are you?”
“On my way to the church to see if?—”
“Don’t bother,” he interrupts me. “I just came from there; the place is dark and locked up. I got hold of one of Carson’s buddies in the group and he said practice ended around four.”
Fucking four o’clock? Where the hell have they been for the past three hours?
Only one place comes to mind, and I pull an illegal U-turn in front of the diner.
“I’m heading to the park to look, where are you?”
“A step ahead of you. I’m already there.”
Chapter 25
Savvy
* * *
Well, KC wasn’t at home, and he apparently never showed up at the church hall for a youth group practice, so I’m really starting to get concerned.
It’s still possible he went up in the mountains for some R&R and simply forgot about the practice, but something tells me it’s not going to be that simple. I’ve had a funny feeling in my gut this past hour or so.
Restless.
When Tessa and I got back to the office, I tried focusing on work but after a while I realized I’d been doing little more than staring off into space. I ended up leaving Tessa and Chris working in the large meeting room, and decided to go join Nate and his daughter in the park.
Who knows, maybe KC is checking out the fair and I’ll bump into him there.
I’m surprised at how busy it is. The town center is bustling with people checking out the sidewalk sales, and from what I can see of the park, it is equally crowded.
Randal Donahue, a retired deputy who now volunteers for special events, is directing traffic. He walks over when he spots my cruiser and directs me to a small portion of the parking lot behind the park’s public washrooms they’ve sectioned off for emergency vehicle access. I’m grateful to see there is room. Even though I’m not here for an emergency, I could get called out for one any time and I don’t want the cruiser too far.
Pulling in, I find a spot well out of the way of the ambulance already parked there as a precaution so they can get out in a hurry if need be.
Of course, I bump into plenty of people I know, getting held up saying hello a few times as I make my way to the bandstand. The music is pretty good, a Fleetwood Mac cover band by the sound of it, and it’s drawing a good crowd.
The smell of fried food has my empty stomach rumbling and I briefly consider grabbing something before joining Nate—they’ve probably long eaten—when I hear someone call my name.
“Savvy! Over here!”
I turn to find Nate and Hugo stalking over to me, and all it takes is one look to recognize something is wrong.