Page 12 of Shattered By the Currents

“You just ate a granola bar in the car.”

“Yeah, and I’m hungry again. That a crime?”

Connor shook his head with a chuckle as his phone vibrated with a text.

Ryan: You guys found Herbert?

Connor: On our way to him now. If he’s at his usual spot, shouldn’t be long.

Zac: I’m at Bloom and Polly wants to know if you’re ready to apologize, Joel.

Joel huffed as his gaze flew over the message before he typed out a response.

Connor shoved his cell back into his pocket. He didn’t need to see the back-and-forth. Someone needed to be looking for Herbert. They weren’t actually worried about him. He’d always been happy to be found in the past and never put himself in any form of danger.

When Joel shoved his phone away, Connor looked at his friend. “Everything okay?”

“I love that woman. But damn she makes me work for it.”

Connor chuckled. Polly was exactly what Joel needed, and he knew it. His friend didn’t want easy, anyway. Easy didn’t challenge him, and Joel liked to be challenged.

“Come on, let’s move faster.” Connor adjusted the straps on his pack and broke into a jog. When they reached the edge of the river, Herbert was exactly where he usually was, standing on the rocks, watching the currents.

“Hey, Herbert,” Connor called quietly as they approached. The last thing he wanted to do was scare the guy into slipping. He was closer to the edge than usual. “It’s Connor and Joel from search and rescue. Remember us?”

Herbert didn’t turn or reply. He just continued to stand there, back facing them.

“You remember me, right, Herb?” Joel asked, as they continued forward. “I’m snack man, and I just happen to have one of those fruit and nut packs you like.”

Still nothing.

Connor stopped on one side of Herbert while Joel stepped to the other.

Usually, Herbert turned at the first sight of them. Realized where he was. Whotheywere. And happily returned to the facility with them. Today, his gaze didn’t shift from the river, a deep frown on his brow. It was like he didn’t hear them at all.

“Herbert.” Connor’s voice was firmer now. “Are you okay?”

“She sent me a photo of her standing in this exact spot,” Herbert said, voice almost distant. “The sky was gray that day. I remember being worried that it would rain before she got back to her hotel.”

“Is this an ex-wife?” Joel asked.

Herbert scowled. “No. That old bag’s still kicking somewhere.”

“Who, Herbert?” Connor asked.

“My Lila.”

Connor shared a glance with Joel before asking, “Who’s Lila?”

“My daughter. My baby. My Lila Wren.”

Connor flinched at the familiar name, while Joel straightened.

Lila Wren. She was on the list. She was one of five missing or dead women they’d been looking into.

Francie Collins, missing twenty-five years.

Opal Sinclair, found dead in the water twenty-three years ago.