“No. I love it here, actually.” The peace I’d found in my routine, the sounds and scents of nature…Shay, they’d all been good for me. I felt healthier and happier than I had in years, even if I hadn’t figured out what my new career path might be. “There’s someone here I care about…”

“Your hottie of a caretaker?” he asked with a mischievous grin.

I scowled at him. Shay had popped her head into my studio a couple of weeks ago when Carson and I had been chatting, and she had met him via video. I hadn’t heard the end of it from Car since. “I’m not saying who. But they’re in trouble. And I’m trying to figure out how I can help.”

“Trouble like avoiding the cops because they were part of a jewel heist, or trouble like they’re hooked on pills? Give me a little direction here.”

“Trouble like they’re lying low from someone who might want to hurt them.”

Carson’s jaw hardened. “If that someone is the slip of a girl living on your island, I’d tell you to keep her close. You want the number of my private investigator? You know he’s discreet, and he can get the lowdown on anything.”

A couple of years ago, Car’s sister had gotten mixed up with a bad dude and hadn’t been able to break free. This P.I. had found enough dirt for Carson to get his sister out and keep her ex away for good. Having more information on Michael, confirming his whereabouts, wouldn’t hurt. “Sure. Send it my way.”

“I’ll text it as soon as we hang up.”

“Thanks, man. How are things with you? Pieces for the show progressing?”

Carson grimaced. “They’re coming. But I’m not sold on any of them yet.”

This time, I did grin. “You hate every sculpture you make. It’s not until after collectors are clamoring all over themselves to outbid each other that you believe they’re halfway decent.”

He fumbled for his pack of cigarettes. “You might have a point.”

“Trust your process.”

His gaze met mine through the screen. “This is why I need you in New York. You remind me to keep my head on straight.”

“No one can keep your head on straight.”

His eye twinkled mischievously. “That little caretaker of yours might…”

“Carson,” I warned.

“Just wanted to see if you’d called dibs or not.”

“That’s the nice thing about living thousands of miles away. I don’t have to. I can just do…this.” I hit end on the call before he could utter another word and closed my laptop screen. A few seconds later, my phone dinged with a message calling me an asshole and then another with the number for his private investigator. I’d place the call in a bit. First, I wanted to talk to Hunter.