Page 51 of Carver’s Craving

She trotted over to the kitchen.

I shook my head. “No way. I fed you.” I squinted at the wall clock. “Three hours ago.” Huh…I’ve been dozing in bed for more than two hours while deciding absolutely nothing. Well…not nothing. I’d decided making a move on Carver would be a bad idea. See? I could make at least some decisions.

“Let me get dressed and we can go for a walk.”

Swear to God, the dog pouted.

I made my way back to the bedroom and changed into a henley, jeans, and thick socks. I added a hoodie and returned to the great room. Carver tended to keep the place a bit cooler. Apparently the dogs didn’t mind. Does he do this because he doesn’t want to pay for more heat, because he’s environmentally minded, or am I overthinking this? All three were possible. Hell, anything was possible.

On that note, I bundled the dogs into their coats and headed outside. With Walter in his wagon and Poppin on her leash, we walked to the end of the driveway. Even though I’d walked on the road with Carver on Sunday—and had run into the other neighbors doing the same—I decided not to chance it. “We’re going back.”

Poppin turned and headed toward the house.

Walter dozed on. Since Carver was diligent about their meds—and even had a chart—I wasn’t worried about that. They weren’t accustomed to food during the day. That said, Carver had told me they could have a baby carrot a couple of times. So we’d do that when we got home.

Home.

A word that could be loaded. My parents’ house had never felt like a true home. The apartment I’d shared with Frank and Baxter hadn’t either. Yet Carver’s felt like more than a house. Like a place where a guy could put down roots and live for the rest of his life, compared to the temporariness of sharing with…

Baxter.

As I neared the house, I made a decision. I’ll file that missing person report. Was I supposed to do it online or was I supposed to call? Online would definitely be more challenging. Nope. I’d call.

After I’d doled out baby carrots and settled on the couch.

I put Walter on the ground where he walked, sniffed, and squatted. Since Poppin had gone about halfway down the driveway, I was able to take everyone inside, unbundle them, and place them on the couch. When I brought the carrots, each delicately took theirs. Finally, I grabbed my phone and searched for the nonemergency phone line for Mission City RCMP. While doing that search, I discovered there wasn’t a waiting period for reporting someone. As soon as one determined another person was missing, a report could be made. Still, I hesitated. Did I know Baxter was missing? Well…he wasn’t anywhere to be found.

Wait…I was supposed to call those auto mechanics first.

I managed to find the first number, and I dialed.

“MATH Automotive, this is Holly, how may I help you?” Cheerful and clearly friendly.

“Uh, hi. My name is Styx. Which you didn’t need to know.”

“Still, being on a first-name basis is good. How can I help you, Styx?”

“Well, my friend has a van with my stuff in it, and it broke down in Mission City. I just wanted to see if you’d repaired it.”

The taping of a keyboard came through. “What’s the timeframe?”

“Since Friday?”

“Ah. No vans. Lots of other vehicles—we’re always busy—but no vans. Look, I can ask Taryn if she towed a van. She tows to other mechanics in town, so she might know what happened to your friend’s van. Give me a second?”

“Sure.”

She put me on hold with some classic eighties rock. Oh, White Snake. Cool.

“Styx?”

“Yep.”

“Taryn towed a van to Spike’s garage. I don’t know if it was your friend’s, and I don’t know if Spike will be comfortable giving you personal information, but I can give you his number.”

I exhaled. A start. “That would really be appreciated.”

“Sure.”