Page 51 of Carter

I take a deep breath and let it out slowly. I wipe my eyes, straighten my back and get back to work. I spend the rest of my shift fighting off bad thoughts, wondering what the hell Nash could have to tell me.

Closing up the library takes me a little more time than usual, because I double check everything to pass some time. Eileen is long gone, and I’ve been trusted to lock the doors plenty of times, so this is nothing new.

I leave at 5:30 and make it to the restaurant fifteen minutes later. Nash is pulling in as I reach the door, so I step aside and wait for him to meet me.

“You could have gone in,” he says.

I shrug and reach for the door, but he beats me to it, opening it for me and gesturing for me to go inside. My chest aches.

“Good evening,” the young hostess greets. “Two?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Nash says.

We follow her to a table and she lets us know our waiter will be over shortly.

“How was your day?” Nash asks.

“Stressful.”

The slightest frown pulls at his lips. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Can you tell me what’s going on?” I ask urgently, my hands shaking.

Understanding crosses his face. “Shit,” he mutters, rubbing his brow. “I’m sorry, Carter. I don’t havebadnews, and I should have said that.”

“You’re not closing the case?” I ask hopefully.

“Fuck no,” he says. “I’m sorry,” he repeats. “Really, I’ve just been so busy and not in the best mood and I…” He holds my gaze, letting out a sigh. “I’m just sorry.”

“It’s okay,” I say. “Really. It’s just my brain, you know? Always thinking about the worst-case scenario. I should have asked.”

“It’s not on you. I didn’t mean to make you worry.”

“So work hasn’t been great?”

“I can’t say it’s ever great, but as helpful as my team is, they’re also a pain in the ass. They help with some things but now my time is taken up by going over things with them.”

“So it’s like… what’s the point?”

“Yeah, basically.”

The waiter comes over with a basket of bread sticks and dipping sauces, takes our orders, and leaves us again.

Each of us takes a bread stick. I choose the Alfredo sauce to dip, and he picks up the tomato. Not that we can’t swap, but we both seem happy with our selections.

“Have you been here before?” I ask.

“No. Haven’t been many places out here yet.”

“What updates do you have?” I ask as my throat gets tight. He said it wasn’t bad, but even good things aren’t always easy to handle. And this could be neither—it could be just a simple update.

“You said the woman had nursing clogs on, so I’ve had my team checking in on places in the area. Nursing homes, therapy facilities, in-home, stuff like that.”

“They found her?”

“No, not yet. But they’re working on it. It’s been nearly three years, so I’m not sure of the odds, but they’re doing their best.”

“No one has ever looked for her before,” I say, my voice barely a whisper.