“Good afternoon, I’m Kari Starling and I’m here because I’m concerned about Bowie Outlander,” he explained as patiently as he could. “He didn’t show up for work, which isn’t like him. Do you know if he has left his apartment today?”
He’d bet his last dollar this man, if he’d been here all morning, would know who was in the building right then.
There was a clear hesitation as the man frowned, looking toward the elevator. “Mr. Outlander hasn’t left the building today.”
It was the concern that he witnessed that had him playing it straight when the man returned his attention to Kari. “I need to check on him, see he’s okay, please?”
The man gave him a speculative look before nodding very slowly. “You’ll need to move your car first. I can’t have it blocking the front entranceway in case there is a delivery.”
Kari nodded curtly. “Fine,” he replied, holding back his impatience through years of practice with Kodi. “Do you have any designated parking I can use?”
“Mr. Outlander has two parking spaces at the rear of the building, you can park in the empty space beside his car.”
Kari was already heading back out the door before the man could change his mind, but with one prominent thought. The man had not said that anyone else lived with Bowie. His heckles flattened at that bit of information.
It just means that Rex and Bowie aren’t at the stage of living together.
Kari wasn’t sure if it was him or his wolf side he was explaining that to.
He pretended not to hear the snort of response in his head.
He easily found Bowie’s small compact car in the near empty parking lot. If the guy had been wrong, this would have confirmed to Kari that Bowie was home. The omega had once explained that he didn’t like to walk and get sweaty when he had to come to work.
Back in the foyer, Kari felt sweat sliding down the center of his back under his shirt and suit jacket. The gentleman manning a desk was on the phone, a deep groove between his brows when he met Kari’s stare.
Kari came to a halt and drummed his fingers on the side of his leg, waiting. The man said nothing, holding the phone to his ear for what felt like an eternity, before placing it back in the cradle. “Mr. Outlander isn’t responding to his security phone.”
A piercing stab of alarm came at hearing that. “You have the code to the lift, do you have a spare set of keys to his apartment, too?” Does Rex have a set of keys? One of the other PAs. Fuck it. He should have thought about this before he left. It revealed just how anxious he was to get to Bowie.
“I have a master key, yes.”
If there was a reluctance on the man’s part when he answered, Kari didn’t care. “Let’s knock, and if he doesn’t answer, then if you wouldn’t mind opening the door so I can check he’s okay, that would be great.” Kari was in full take charge mode, offering an encouraging smile, which seemed to work. He was assertive but not demanding, which always worked best in Kari’s mind.
“Follow me,” said the concierge, walking out from behind the desk.
They rode the elevator in silence, the man looking at Kari with a quizzing look, though he kept whatever thoughts he had to himself. The ding announced they’d arrived, and once more Kari was impressed as he stepped into a plush carpeted corridor. The building appeared relatively new, or was well maintained. Either way, it seemed a little above Bowie’s pay grade.
None of my business where he gets his money from.
Outside apartment seventeen, Kari knocked before the other man could. He waited twenty seconds. He counted. Knocking again with a little more force, “Bowie, it’s Kari. Can you open the door for me?”
His wolf strained to listen for any sounds beyond the door. Was he hurt? Injured and unable to come to the door?
A whimper. The merest of sounds but it got Kari’s heart thudding hard enough that it felt like he’d trapped a hare in his chest and it was using its hind legs to escape.
“Open the door.” The man beside him bristled, and Kari quickly added, “Please.” He’d break the thing down if he had to. Nothing was going to stop him getting inside.
The man at his side made a noise in the back of his throat that was clearly disapproval, even as he pulled a bunch of keys out of his jacket and slipped one into the lock.
Kari didn’t wait and shoved the handle down the second the lock clicked open. Inside, what was happening in his chest worsened when his gaze swept the room and landed on Bowie, curled in a ball on the carpeted floor by a table. The remnants of two plates with dried food on them sat next to a pair of drinking glasses.
Where the fuck was Rex? Had he walked away and left Bowie like this?
The air whistled through his clenched teeth at the potential answers when he scented urine as he strode to Bowie, who let out a tiny whimpering noise. He visibly tightened the arms that clutched his legs to his chest, his obvious distress like a dagger to Kari’s heart.
A wounded animal sprang to mind. Injured and hurting.
“Babyca—Bowie,” he quickly corrected before the nickname he secretly had for Bowie slipped out fully. “It’s Kari, what can I do to help?”
