Chapter 25
Hunter
Murphy, an alpha we’ve been working with over the last several months, sets down his bottle of water and wipes the sweat from his brow with the back of his arm. “What’s this I hear about you guys starting a construction company?”
I shoot Wyatt, busy chatting with a supervisor, a surprised glance.
He has his arms crossed and his hard hat firmly on his head when he looks my way and raises an eyebrow as if asking me what I want.
I gesture vaguely toward Murphy and raise my eyebrow at him, secretly asking him what I’m supposed to tell him about our new business.
He shrugs and looks away.
Shaking my head, I assume his non-answer means it’s okay for me to tell Murph more than what Wyatt must have already let slip.
“We’re still in the early days. We don’t even have a name yet, but we’re definitely doing it,” I say.
All we’re certain about right now is that we’re starting a construction company in Rios, and at least for now, we’re sticking with what we know: condos, apartments, and family homes.
“Same stuff we do now. Why, you want in?”
“The idea of staying in Rios appeals,” Murph says. “Are you going to bid for out-of-town work?”
I shake my head. “Nope. We’re keeping this business local.”
We’ve saved a lot over the years, but our future will involve bidding for jobs and hoping our reputation for delivering good work over the last several years is enough to get us in the door.
To afford a downtown office, we’ll need to speak with the bank about a loan, and that meeting is unlikely to go well until we have at least one successful bid for a job in our pocket.
We could work from home, but that isn’t feasible.
There’s no way we can set up shop in a farmhouse thirty minutes out of town, and none of us wants to.
The farmhouse is home for all of us, and if we do eventually take on staff, I’d rather not have guys walking into the kitchen and seeing Maisie bent over in her shorts or sexy thigh-skimming floral dresses. I’m selfish and possessive enough to want to keep that sight all to myself.
When we talked about the business on the couch last Sunday night, none of us had expected Maisie to volunteer to do the admin work.
She was a clerk for years, so she has experience, and baking isn’t something she wants to do all day.
I don’t know why I didn’t expect her offer.
Maisie is as determined to help our business succeed as we are to help hers.
For the longest time, it was a “maybe one day” thing we’d talk about when we had a couple of drinks on a Friday night and none of us were ready to settle. Our maybe one day is here, and it comes with a beautiful mate none of us were expecting and a town none of us wants to leave.
Knox wanders over as I finish filling Murph in on projects we’re interested in and the buildings that might work when we eventually set up a downtown office.
“What are you two whispering sweet nothings about?” Knox asks, bouncing his gaze between Murph and me.
I roll my eyes at him, and Elias drops into the chair beside me, laughing.
The break room is tiny. Literally a trailer on site where we’ve grabbed hot coffee, snacks, and fought over the five chairs over the last few months.
We stagger our breaks so everyone has at least one chance to sit down, but even that’s not enough.
This trailer is claustrophobic. The lack of space was the driving force behind the short walk to Nico’s to grab a proper coffee and slice of pie in a place where we could stick our arms out without worrying about hitting someone.
“Murph was asking about the company we’re setting up,” I tell Knox and Elias.
Elias’s gaze sharpens on Murph. “I thought you’d signed up for the Florida job.”
Most of the twenty guys have. I thought we were the only ones who’d turned it down.
Murph snorts. “I like sun as much as the next person, but Florida has a little too much of it for my liking.”
“Too much sun?” Knox says dryly. “Not a complaint I ever thought I’d hear you say.” He points his chin at Murph’s tanned arms.
“Sun is fine for hitting the beach or sitting out on the porch with a beer or two. But working in it for two years?” He shakes his head. “No, thanks. I figure maybe if I stick around, you might bring more subs like the one you were too greedy to share.”
He’d hungrily eyed my sandwich as he ate his peanut butter and jelly, and had asked if I wanted to share the six-inch sub with roast beef, horseradish mayo, and sweet red peppers. I told him to go to hell. Maisie made it for me. No way was I sharing a sandwich this good.
“Not gonna happen,” I say.
“You need to find a woman who loves you the way Maisie loves us,” Knox adds with a smug smile.
Maisie refused to let us leave without packing up something for our lunch, knowing we wouldn’t have a chance to get to the diner today.
We told her she didn’t have to do it, but she was determined, so we all took our sandwiches, slices of homemade cherry pie, and ice-cold bottles of water with a grateful smile and a kiss.
Every day, we’re practically trampling over people to get home to Maisie. When the guys saw the sandwiches Maisie had made for us and salivated over her homemade pies, they’d have trampled over us to get to a woman like Maisie if they had one waiting for them at home.
She’s sent us to work with pies for the guys more than she ever needed to, and she’s won them over. She’s one of a kind. Sweet and kind and so generous, with the most intensely violent streak when she’s fighting off zombies on the couch in the evenings with Elias.
Leaning back in my chair, I rub the back of my neck, the usual place I’m most sunburned from working outside. Rios isn’t too hot. Texas was terrible. Florida would be even worse. I can’t help but think we dodged a bullet in turning down the Florida job.
“If you’re ever looking for workers, let me know when you get that company started,” Murph says.
I tilt my head. “You don’t have a job lined up?” He should. Murph’s one of the most experienced workers on site, hardworking, and I know he’d have been one of the first guys management went looking to hire for more work.
He rakes a hand through his dark hair. “I’ve been on the road for a long time. Thought it might be nice to settle for a bit.”
“In Rios?” I ask, surprised. He hasn’t shown any sign that he wanted to stay.
He balls up his trash and tosses it, green eyes avoiding my gaze. “It’s as good as any place I’ve worked so far. I’m making a quick trip to see family and then heading back here.”
I share a curious glance with Knox, who shrugs.
In the distance, someone yells something I can’t make out, a bell rings, and we get back to our feet with tired sighs.
We have a couple more hours of work ahead of us, then all that’s left is for the management to do an inspection before we clock out.
In a couple of days, if all is well, our bosses will host a party at a local bar.
It’s not much. Just a couple of free drinks and pizzas.
Once we’ve celebrated the completion of the condo, the rest of the guys will move on to their next job, and we’ll make a quick trip to Malibu and spend a few days sitting on the beach, sipping cocktails, and I can teach Maisie how to surf.
Then we’ll come back to Rios and start looking for a permanent base for our new company.
I glance at the clock as we leave the trailer.
After work, we’ll swing over to the diner, check that Maisie is okay, and head home together for dinner, a movie, and maybe another long talk on the couch about our future.
“Maisie is missing,” are Elias’s words the second I step out of the condo.
One of the guys said Elias was looking for me but couldn’t find me. I was not expecting to walk into this news.
“What?” Frowning, I pull off my hard hat and set it down on a folding table, following him away from the condo entrance, where loud banging and drilling make it impossible to talk without needing to shout.
“Nico called,” Elias explains. “He said she offered to take the trash out to the dumpster when Winston was too busy to go, and she didn’t come back.”
I curse. “They said she wouldn’t go out.”
“She went to dump trash in the dumpster literally inches from the back door. No one thought anyone would be waiting for her there, and clearly someone was.”
“Could she have gone home, maybe?” It’s wishful thinking to ask, but I’m trying not to jump to the one place I’m hoping she’s not.
He shakes his head. “Her car is outside, and her purse is in the staff room. She was in her work uniform and apron. That’s it.”
I glance toward the condo, desperate to rush over to the diner now, though not without at least letting Wyatt and Knox know all this first. They love her as much as I do. They need to be part of this. “Where are the others?”
Before Elias can explain, Wyatt and Knox burst out of the condo, shove their hard hats on the same table I left mine on, and jog toward us. Both look as worried as I feel.
“August said you were looking for us. Something about Maisie,” Wyatt says.
“She’s missing,” I say.
His face contorts with rage. “Derek.”
“Maybe not. There could be another explanation for it,” Elias hedges, though the look on his face says he doesn’t believe it. “We have to go. I spoke to the supervisor when I got Nico’s call about Maisie. He said to grab you and go. Don’t worry about the condo.”
It’s times like these I appreciate not having a dick for a boss.
“Car?” Wyatt asks, reaching for his truck keys.
“Might be faster to walk,” Knox suggests. “It’s going to be a pain in the ass finding parking in town now.”
It always is around lunchtime. It’s why we’d walk to the diner for lunch instead of driving.
“Good point.” Wyatt pockets his keys, and we make what is usually a five-to-ten-minute walk to the diner in a couple of minutes at a flat-out sprint.
As Knox predicted, there’s no parking on Rios’s busiest street, where the bulk of the stores are. Three patrol cars occupy the few spaces that other vehicles haven’t taken up. Looks like the sheriff and both his deputies are here.
On the other side of the road, I spy a familiar group of guys all wearing navy t-shirts.
The firefighters. Noah, the blond-haired fire station chief, is in a deep conversation with Lawrence, a deputy cop.
As if he feels my attention, he glances our way and lifts his hand in a wave.
I return it as the fear I’d swallowed when Elias told me that Maisie was missing rises.
The firefighters being here isn’t a good sign. If they’re here talking to Lawrence, then they’re here to help look for her. If that’s the case, then the sheriff knows or is at least pretty certain that someone took her, and he’s called all hands to sweep the streets.
The moment she stepped into the alley beside the diner, someone ambushed her. They could only have succeeded if they were in the diner or close by, watching and waiting to get her alone.
It sounds exactly like something Derek, her ex, who's stalked her for months, would do.
I peer into the diner as we pass it to get to the alley. It’s emptier than I’ve seen it before, especially now when people like to stop in to grab a snack or a quick meal on their way home from work. The few people inside are visibly worried as they nurse their coffee.
Through the glass, I spot Winston, the short-order cook, usually singing or laughing, standing in the kitchen doorway with his arms folded over his stained white apron, frowning as he peers out of the window.
The sheriff is chatting with Gary, his other deputy, halfway down the alley, behind yellow tape that blocks anyone from venturing farther. He spots us and motions us back as he heads toward us. “Wait there. I’ll come to you. Could be evidence down here.”
The fear that I’ll step on important evidence he might need to find Maisie is the only reason I listen. I’m guessing it’s the same reason Elias, Wyatt, and Knox don’t charge down the alley either.
“Have you found anything, Sheriff?” Wyatt asks Sheriff Watson after he’s ducked under the police tape.
I stop breathing as I wait for his response.
Please don’t tell us there was blood down that alley or that Maisie could be lying somewhere dead or dying.
The sheriff rests his hands on his hips.
“Nothing that can tell us where she is.” He holds one hand up before we can all jump down his throat from the way we all surge toward him.
“That doesn’t mean we won’t find her,” he continues, lowering his hand when we let him talk.
“We know she wouldn’t have walked away without telling someone where she was going, and her car is still out front. ”
We passed it on our way.
“So?” I prompt, impatient to get information we don’t already know.
The sheriff focuses on me. “So that means the person who took her—”
“Her ex, Derek,” Knox cuts in, scowling.
“Derek,” the sheriff repeats, not arguing.
It couldn’t be anyone else, because no one in town had a vendetta against Maisie.
“Derek had to have been watching the diner, waiting for an opportunity to act.” He points across the road.
“I’ve had the deputy check for any suspicious activity over there.
The guys at the fire station are offering some much-needed support. ”
“And?” Wyatt prompts, frustration bleeding out of him.
“Nothing yet,” the sheriff says. “They’re going door to door. Derek couldn’t have taken her far without someone seeing something.”
“And if he drove her out of town?” I can’t be the only one thinking it. Derek could have shoved her into his car and be speeding far, far away from Rios as we speak.
The sheriff claps me on the arm. “We keep looking, and we don’t lose hope. We will find her. It’s only a matter of time.”
“What can we do?” Elias asks.
“Start going door to door,” the sheriff says. “Folk from the diner emptied out to help look for her. The more people we have out there, the faster we’ll find her.”