“Uh… have you two seen Malachi?” Faye asked them, she and Chace were both standing, looking around. Faye was craning her neck and speaking. “He came in with Mom and Dad. Blond boy? You know, the one Mom and Dad are looking after.”

“Saw him,” Lexie answered. “Don’t see him now. And by the way, he’s super cute.”

“Yo Keaton!” He heard his name called and turned to see Wings, one of the local bikers, fighting the crowds leaving or standing around and talking to get to Chace.

“Excuse me,” Chace muttered, grabbing Faye’s hand and moving her out into the aisle when Ty and Lexie moved out of the way. The second they were there, Wings made it to him.

“Little kid slipped this to me and took off,” he said to Chace and that prickle on his neck started biting. “Thought I’d wait until the end, you know, what with this bein’ a big deal for Faye and all.”

Chace took the note that had his name printed on the outside in Malachi’s writing and opened it, Faye crowding him close and he could feel her tension.

It said in Malachi’s handwriting,

She’s here. It’s safe to do it now.

I’ll be at the shed.

Silas and Sondra pushed through, Silas announcing, “Our lil’ bugger took off. Can’t find him anywhere. I’ll go to the restroom –”

“Note, Silas,” Chace stated tersely, lifting up the note, Silas took it but Chace was looking around. He found Deck at the back, chatting up a blonde and he whistled. The second the sound pierced the air, Deck’s neck twisted and Chace got his eyes. Chace jerked up his chin. Deck did too, coming his way.

“What? I don’t get it. What’s safe?” Silas asked, heavy concern threading his tone.

“Everything all right?” Ty asked.

“Who is she?” Faye whispered and her tone, a tone he understood because he felt its cold crawling through his system, made Chace look down at her.

Before he could speak, he heard Deck say, “Yo. What?”

Chace looked at Deck and told him, “Something’s going down with Malachi. At the shed.”

“I’m on it,” Deck stated immediately, turning to move the other way.

“I’m going too,” Faye put in. Chace looked down at her and opened his mouth but she got there before him, squaring her shoulders. He knew by that and the worried look in her eye, he was f**ked. “I’m going too,” she repeated firmly.

“All right, baby,” he muttered.

“Mary Eglund is a serious pain in the ass,” Krys announced, making it to their huddle, Bubba following in her wake and Chace saw Tate, Lauren and Jonas also hitting their group.

“Something’s going down with the kid,” Ty told Tate.

“What kid?” Max asked from behind them, Nina, he and their kids had moved up the center aisle and were down the bench from them.

“We need to go, Chace,” Faye whispered, grabbing his hand and holding it tight. “We need to go, go, go.”

She was losing it.

“You need help?” Tate asked.

“Yes,” Chace answered, turning, positioning and taking Faye with him so they were facing all of them. “Malachi’s his name. Silas, pass the note around,” he ordered and continued when Silas did as he asked. “Faye and I are heading to Sioux Street, eastern dead end where it meets up with Cherokee. Deck’ll be there. We need men in that wood to fan out and look for him.”

“What’s this shed?” Max asked, looking up from the note Tate walked down to him.

“Ramshackle, ‘bout a twelve minute walk, if you do it sedate, going direct east with a hint north,” Chace answered.

“He wants you at the shed, why do you need men in those woods?” Ty asked.

“Because, there’s someone in those woods who could hurt him. They have before, they’ll do it again. He thinks it’s safe. I wanna make sure it is,” Chace responded, feeling Faye get more and more tense at his side.

“I’ll call Deke,” Tate muttered, turning toward Lauren.

“I’ll call Wood,” Ty stated, looking down at Lexie.

“I’ll call it into CPD,” Max said, pulling his phone out.

“I’m with you,” Silas declared then looked down at Sondra, yanking his keys out of his pocket. “You go home.”

“Silas,” she whispered.

“Go home, honey. Stay close to the phone,” Silas replied.

“I want to look too,” she told him.

“And he needs someone at home if he has to make his way there,” Silas returned gently.

She nodded.

“Baby, you go with Sondra,” Bubba said quietly to Krys and Krystal, her eyes on Sondra, nodded as well.

“Chace,” Faye’s voice was trembling and her hand in his tightened so tight, it drew pain, “we have to go.”

Chace nodded down into her pale face, he looked to Silas and he ordered, “Let’s go.”

And with a glance through their friends, they left.

* * * * *

“What you got?” Chace said into his phone as he moved through the slush, mud and over the wet rock of the thawing wood, hearing Faye moving five feet behind him at his right flank, Deck moving through the wet brush ten feet in front of him slightly to his left.

“At the shed, no Malachi,” Silas answered in his ear.

“Sit on it, Silas,” Chace ordered.

“Been sittin’ on it forty-five minutes, Chace,” Silas retorted.

“Sit on it longer,” Chace returned.

“Rather be lookin’,” Silas fired back.

“He approaches that shed, he’ll need someone there he can trust,” Chace informed him.

“That could be Faye,” Silas shot back.

“Who’re we talkin’ about?” Chace asked shortly.

He got silence for moment then, “Damn it.”

Silas knew Faye would no sooner sit at a shed and not be looking for Malachi then Chace would. Or, apparently, Silas wanted to do.

“Got you wrapped around her finger,” Silas muttered in his ear cantankerously.

“You want that another way?” Chace asked, tiring of the conversation.

“Take your point.” Silas kept muttering.

“Are we done?” Chace asked.

“Find him, son,” Silas whispered then disconnected.

Chace shoved the phone in his back pocket and kept moving through the wood along the sheer cliff face. He saw Deck’s light cutting the night in front of him as well as Faye’s behind him. They walked in silence, following Deck’s lead. In the last weeks, Deck had been out there at least a dozen times, combing the area north to south, climbing the rock face, following wildlife trails that led nowhere, finding nothing but getting the lay of the land. They’d been at it nearly an hour and were well north of town, beyond the town limits, moving slowly upwards. If they walked another half hour and shifted west, they’d be on Tate Jackson’s front deck.