She dialed the phone and poured a cup of coffee as she waited for him to answer. “Hey. I’m sorry I missed your call. Brianna and I just finished building her snowman.”
“Have you seen Bruce?” Seth asked.
The tension in his voice alarmed Carly. “No. Why?”
“Would you please see if he’s home?”
“What’s going on, Seth?” Carly set her cup on the counter. Apprehension snaked up her spine.
“Just look,” Seth said. “Please.”
From the other side of the kitchen, her mother mouthed, “What’s wrong?”
With a shake of her head and a pointed glance at Brianna, Carly left the kitchen and jogged down the basement steps. Her youngest brother, Bruce, still lived at home. Playing guitar in a band a few nights a week did not yield a viable income. But since she, Seth, and Brianna lived in the guest cabin on the other side of the meadow, she couldn’t throw stones. Despite his lack of self-motivation, Bruce was loaded with good qualities. Brianna considered him her “fun uncle.” Bruce had never-ending patience with his nieces and nephews.
At the foot of the stairs, Carly tapped on his door. When he didn’t answer, she opened it. The bed was empty. “He’s not in his room.” And neither was the electric guitar he’d taken with him the night before. “It doesn’t look like he came home last night.”
“See if his van is outside,” Seth said.
Carly went up the steps and looked out the front window. “No. It’s not here. Maybe he stayed over at Amber Lynn’s.” They’d been dating for a couple of months, and Bruce was quite the charmer. But Seth didn’t say anything. All she could hear was her husband’s breathing on the other end of the call. Apprehension escalated to worry. “Seth, what’s going on?”
“He didn’t stay at Amber Lynn’s.” His voice was gentle. “I don’t want you to get upset.”
Carly’s stomach curled into a ball as she waited. Something was very, very wrong.
“Remember the homicide I caught this morning?”
“Yes.” In the living room, Carly sank into her father’s chair. The cushions curled around her, and she took comfort from the depressions where his big body had rested every evening for as long as she could remember.
“It’s Amber Lynn.”
“No.” Disbelief and sorrow washed over her. A few seconds later, Carly’s shocked mind connected the awful dots. Every drop of blood in her veins went ice-cold. She leaped to her feet. “Bruce was with her last night. Where is he?” Panic sent her pulse scurrying.
“You’re sure?”
“Yes. The band was playing at Fletcher’s. Bruce was supposed to pick up Amber and drive her. He didn’t want her driving there alone. Fletcher’s has a rough crowd.” She took a long, shaky breath. That poor girl. Grief and fear rattled her bones. Amber Lynn had been such a sweet thing. Bruce had really liked her. Carly had thought maybe her happy-go-lucky brother had finally found the incentive to get his life on track. Carly froze, an image of Amber at the last family dinner popping into her mind. “Where the baby?”
“She’s with a neighbor. That’s why I’m calling you,” Seth said. “I thought you might want to handle her case. I know you’re off today, but I . . .” Seth paused, and indecision seeped through the connection. “I know we’re both trying to work less, but I just couldn’t give her to a stranger.”
Seth wanted her to take on an extra case? That was a first. Normally Seth hated her job as a social worker and the dangerous situations she occasionally faced. But Carly barely had time to register her surprise.
“Of course I’ll take care of her. I’ll head over there now. Text me the address.” Carly stood. “You have to find Bruce.”
“I know. I’ll get the sheriff’s department and state police on board, and I’ll call Zane to start a search.”
Zane Duncan was the Solitude police chief.
“Thanks,” Seth said. “I love you.”
“Love you too.” Carly ended the call.
“What’s wrong?”
Carly started. Her mother stood in the living room doorway.
“That was Seth.” Carly searched for the words to tell Patsy that her youngest son was missing. She was still grieving the loss of her husband. The whole town was still mourning Big Bill Taylor’s death.
Patsy’s eyes clouded with apprehension. “What is it?”
“Sit down, Mom.” Carly nodded toward the sofa.
“Just tell me what happened.” Patsy perched on the edge of a cushion. The color drained from her face. “I know something’s wrong. I’ve known since last night.”
Carly sat on the coffee table and took her mother’s hand. “Amber Lynn is dead.”
Patsy’s other hand splayed across her chest. “No.”
“She was killed.” Carly squeezed her mother’s fingers. “And Seth can’t find Bruce. I don’t think he came home last night, and he wasn’t in her apartment.”