But the only Divos who walks into the bar is Carl. He’s got on street clothes, and he gives me a stern big-brother look when he settles on a stool across from me.
“You’re in love with my sister?”
Despite his accusatory tone, no surge of defensiveness rises in me. Instead, I have the urge to grin, thinking about that love. How it grew when I wasn’t even looking, and now it’s so fucking strong that no one is going to cut through it.
Still, Clem should be the first one to know.
“This isn’t about you,” I tell Carl. “And I’m not about to tell you I love her before I tell her.”
“So, you do?” He leans over the bar, wrapping his hands around the stout I just poured him. “You love her?”
“Fuck off.” I glance toward the door again. “She mention if she was coming in tonight?”
Carl frowns. “She’s not here yet?”
That has me pausing. A shadow of dread falls over my mind. “Was she supposed to be?”
My friend pulls out his phone instead of answering, his thumb swiping across the screen.
“Carl?” I press, ready to leap over this bar and shake him.
“Her phone is at Samantha’s dock.” He sounds more confused than worried. “I told her to go there. She wanted to do a dark-moon swim since she’s feeling better.” He shuts his phone down and offers me a tight smile. “Thought she’d be done by now, is all.”
We go quiet—me gripping the bar as I try not to think bad thoughts, Carl staring at his dark beer without taking a sip.
He moves first, sliding the glass back to me. “I’m going to head over there. Just in case.”
“I’m coming with you.”
His brows pop up, but he doesn’t try to talk me out of it. I check in with Rodney, who assures me he’s fine handling the bar on his own. Carl and I head out, both of us walking at a faster clip than normal. I consider climbing into his car, but instead veer off toward my truck, wanting the freedom of an extra set of wheels. Just in case.
Of what … I don’t even want to consider.
I follow Carl’s taillights, and he leads me to the police chief’s private cabin on Lake Galen. Samantha, following the town’s rules, lives on an inlet in the Of the Fin section of the lake. We park on the street, in line behind Clem’s car, and I don’t know if I should be relieved or worried at the sight of the vehicle. I climb out of my truck, listening hard for any signs of distress.
No screams or calls for help. No sounds I might associate with a fight or a woman being captured by hunters.
What if they already took her? Why did we ever leave her alone?
There’s the rustle of leaves and the crack of a branch breaking. Carl and I both whirl toward the noise in time to see an animal arrow out of the woods.
Shrimp.
The dog gallops up to us, whining and panting. I crouch down on his level and give his neck some calming scratches.
“Hey, bud. Where’s Clementine?” I glance toward the dark woods. “Take us to Clem.”
Shrimp turns his big body around and bounds down a forest path. Carl and I jog after him. Despite the dark night, I can see easily, never losing sight of the dog. We break through the trees and are met with an empty dock that only holds a stack of clothes and a phone.
Carl mutters a curse. “Can’t track her while she’s swimming.”
“We don’t know anything is wrong.” I try to be the reasonable one in this pair.
Of course, that’s when Shrimp lets out a sad howl and starts pacing the shore, the embodiment of anxiety.
“Clem told me she trained him to wait for her.” Carl watches the dog, his concern thick in the air. “He’s agitated. Something is wrong.”
Shrimp isn’t the only one. Neither my wolf nor I is a fan of how her scent simply ends at the edge of the dock. Once Clementine disappeared into the water, she could have ended up anywhere.
