When he looked over, Delaney saw the phone at his ear and the frustration tightening his mouth. Shit, shit, shit.
“Well hel-lo handsome,” Avery murmured. “Who’s this? And can we take him to the island with us?”
“My contractor, and no. And what is that, divorce rebound?” Delaney asked, unease doubling and tripling as her mind created images of dollar bills fluttering into the ether.
“No, it’s divorced-after-half-a-decade-of-struggling, haven’t-had-sex-in-two-years, and that-is-one-heavenly-hot-dude interest. Besides, I’m just looking.”
Delaney did a double take. “What? No. Never mind. That is a story that will take up way too much time right now. Save that for the six-pack split.” Her gaze traveled back to Trace. “He should be very busy bossing around a bunch of workers who aren’t here.”
Trace disconnected his call and pulled off his aviator sunglasses. But his gaze wasn’t on Delaney. It was on Avery through the side window, which didn’t surprise Delaney. She hadn’t been lying when she’d said Avery looked good. The pretty girl Delaney left behind had matured into a goddamned knockout of a woman. Something Trace obviously noticed immediately.
Delaney stood from the Jeep. “What’s wrong? Where is everyone?”
Trace’s attention shifted to Delaney, and he stood, talking to her over the hood. “Hayes is MIA. He didn’t show for the appointment. I’ve left messages on his office phone, his cell, with his secretary, and I called around town. No one knows where he is. We can’t move on until we’re cleared, so I sent t
he guys home to save some money.”
“He can’t be MIA.” Delaney was caught between disbelief, fear, and anger. “This is Wildwood, for God’s sake—no one goes MIA here. And he’s a freaking city employee. Don’t they have GPS chips implanted in their brain or something?”
Trace was frowning at her as if she’d spoken German.
“Give her a second,” Avery said, standing from the car and drawing Trace’s gaze. “She’s been under a lot of stress. She’ll be fine in a minute. I’m Avery.” She held her hand out. “Her—”
“Sister.” Trace smiled and took Avery’s hand. “You’re her spitting image. But you smile a lot more. A really killer smile, too.”
“Why, thank you.”
“Excuse me.” Delaney didn’t have the patience for their flirtation. “Can you two talk after my building inspector’s ass is on this property?”
“Maybe we should just call the mayor,” Avery offered. “From what I heard at Wildly Artesian, it sounds like he keeps Ethan and Austin on a short leash.”
Delaney’s spinning mind skidded to a stop. Visions of Ethan in a car wreck or a hospital room vanished. Other ugly thoughts tried to push in, but she held them back and got a grip on her emotions.
“Probably a miscommunication. I’ll see what I can do. Trace, since you’re free, maybe you can show Avery around while I’m working on this.”
Trace was all too happy with that suggestion, and with Avery and Trace occupied, Delaney started her calls to all the people closest to Ethan that Trace was no longer in contact with.
She walked toward the edge of her property to peer toward the warehouse to see if his truck was there as she put in an all-points bulletin for him with Phoebe, Jodi, and Heidi. Crossing the parking lot, she glanced toward his unit, but continued on to the CrossFit gym two units down, where people were milling around between workouts.
When no one there had seen him, Delaney returned the way she’d come, dialing Finley’s Market. As the phone rang, she paused in front of Ethan’s unit and cupped her hand over the glass to peer inside with no idea what she was looking for.
“Finley’s Market.”
“Hey, Caleb, it’s Delaney.” She straightened. “Sorry to bother you, but I’m looking for Ethan and it’s pretty important. He was supposed to be at an appointment, and no one seems to be able to find him. I’m a little worried. Do you happen to know where he might be?”
“I thought he’d be with you.”
“Well, he would have if he hadn’t missed the appointment, but—”
“He was here earlier, but I got the impression he lit out of here to go see you after he’d finished up some work. Have you checked the warehouse?”
“I’m here now.”
“Well, that’s the one place you can always find him like clockwork. He’ll probably show up any minute.”
Delaney disconnected and paced in front of the unit. The sun beat down on the black pavement and reflected off the charcoal-steel buildings. Within minutes, she was ready to pass out.
She’d have to go back to the bar and wait. But on her way past, Delaney tried the door handle just as she had the night before. And just as she had the night before, she found it unlocked.