Chapter 30

[Clay]

“I have news,” Stone tells me through the speaker phone in the morning as I tip back in my office chair, staring mindlessly at my computer screen.

“The authorities found Wesley.”

I jerk forward, causing the chair to almost hop, and pick up the handset, holding it to my ear as if I can hear him better.

“Where?”

“Minnesota.”

I tug the phone away from my ear, realizing the speaker phone is still on. Turning it off, I return the device to the side of my head. “Tell me what happened.”

“A woman posted on social media that she was looking for him. His wife in Florida. She wants a divorce, and that abandonment petition timeline is closing in. As he’s been missing for over a year, this was her last-ditch effort to have him come forward. Another woman recognized him as her boyfriend, although I imagine he isn’t her boyfriend any longer. And now he’s in jail.”

“So he was in Minnesota,” I confirm, piecing two and two together to note it might have been impossible for Wesley to be outside my house last night. The possibility would include late night flights, and Wesley didn’t seem like the type of guy to be so frivolous as to book a plane ticket to haunt a kid. He’d moved on to destroying someone else’s life.

“That’s great news.” Although my voice doesn’t portray the extent of my relief because that only means someone else is out there looking for Mavis and Dutton.

“I called you because I can’t get ahold of Mavis.”

“She’s working and probably doesn’t have her phone on her.” She told me she keeps it at the nurse’s desk most of the day while the younger set often have the device in their pocket. “I’ll give her a call.”

“Nothing from last night, I’m afraid.”

I nod. “Sure. But this is good news,” I state, trying to find the silver lining in the stormy clouds above our heads.

Only . . . when I phone Mavis, the call goes to voice mail again and again and again.

By the end of the day, I’m irritated she hasn’t answered me, called me back, or responded to any of my texts asking her to call me.

Toward late afternoon, something tells me to call Meredith, Dutton’s childcare provider. Sometimes Mavis lingers a bit with the older lady, having a past relationship with her.

Meredith doesn’t answer either.

Eventually, I call it a day when it’s roughly around the time Mavis should be getting home.

Home. I’ve never been so excited or eager to get to my place as I’ve been the past few months. I love my house, but it’s become more important to me knowing Mavis and Dutton are there waiting for me.

Stepping outside the Seed & Soil, I’m surprised to see the first dusting of snow covering the grass area to the side of the building. The snow is wet, clinging to cars, but not the gravel lot. Being from Florida, Mavis once told me how much she loves snow and the holiday season which is quickly approaching. The Seed & Soil will be extra busy, and I normally lose myself at work during this time of year as I don’t have a wife or children like many of our employees. But this year, I’ll be making more of an effort to give time to Mavis and Dutton.

I’m thinking of the unusual activities we can do in the winter and what a romantic snowy night horse ride might be like for Mavis and me when I pull into my driveway and discover her car isn’t parked where it normally would be.

Trying not to let panic take over, I park and enter the house to the eerie silence of an empty space.

“Mavis,” I call loudly, as if she might be in our bedroom, the furthest point away from the front door. However, with no lights on anywhere, and Dutton not in his room, I already know I’m going to find our room vacant.

For some reason, I check the closet, relieved to see all her clothes still hanging amid mine.

As I walk back to the living room, then stand in the middle, turning in a slow circle like I don’t know what to do with myself, something black and shiny catches my eye. Stepping closer to the fireplace, I discover Mavis’s phone on the floor, face down, thankfully not cracked. Tapping the screen, a few notifications pop up, showing my last text and the one before that, but I need her passcode to enter the device for further information.

From my phone, I call Meredith again.

“Hey. It’s Clay. I’m just checking to see when Mavis might have left your place. She isn’t home yet.” I don’t want to sound like an overbearing lover or controlling man in her life, but I’m uneasy, especially after last night.

“Oh, I’m so glad you called me. I’ve been trying to reach Mavis all day.”

I chuckle, the sound coming out more like I’m choking. “She left her phone at home. Is Dutton okay?” My hand tightens on the device at my ear.

“That’s why I was calling. Mavis never dropped Dutton off this morning.”

A lump immediately forms in my throat. My heart drops to my stomach.

“Did she call you this morning? Tell you she wasn’t coming?”

“She didn’t. And it’s not like her to not call me if plans change. Is she okay?”

I want to say she’s fine. I want to say she’s home with me. She’s safe. But I can’t lie, and the truth socks me in the gut.

“I don’t know,” I whisper. “But I need to go.” I click off the phone before Meredith even says goodbye, and call Stone.

“Mavis and Dutton are missing.”

Stone inhales sharply before asking a barrage of questions. When did I see her last? Did she report to work? Was Dutton at Meredith’s? I can only answer two out of three before telling him I’ll call the hospital, already fearing what they’ll tell me.

When my suspicion is confirmed—Mavis did not report for her shift—I stare at her phone in my other hand, glaring at the ten digits in circles on the home screen, willing the passcode to somehow reveal itself.

I try her birthdate. Fail.

Dutton’s birthdate. Fail .

I wish I knew her sister’s birthdate. Maybe her death date. I even try my birthdate, but I’m quickly running out of options before the phone will lock on me.

I try to think of any other number that might be of significance to her.

Then I take a lucky guess as I only need six digits.

7-9-5-8-3-7

Sylver.

The phone unlocks, and I breathe out a deep sigh of relief. Scrolling her favorite contacts for someone I don’t know and probably hasn’t heard about me, he’s the third person I can think of who might know where Mavis and Dutton are.

I click on the contact for Mavis’s Dad.