Page 14 of Abdominal Snowman

Short of turning the mattress over, Sage searched the whole bed and found nothing. Her pockets were empty, which was where she’d shoved her phone on her trek.

Soren must have taken it.

Sage cursed and stomped back across the room to the stairs, and took them to the first floor. Her stomach rumbled, but she ignored it for the moment and searched the room for her bags. She found them neatly stacked on the opposite side of the couch, including her duffle.

“When did he go get that?” she asked in annoyance. Unzipping the top, she found all her clothes undisturbed.

If he was supposed to be a monster, he sucked at it.

She opened her backpack and found all her other things—phone charger, laptop. All the important things. But when she opened her camera bag and saw the empty slot where her DSLR belonged, she let out a frustrated screech.

He’d taken her camera too! If he’d destroyed thousands of dollars’ worth of equipment, she would have to skin him.

At least he’d make a good blanket.

“Fucker,” she hissed.

Sage zipped the bag closed and took a seat on the couch in front of the fireplace. She had no idea how long she’d been asleep, but it was still dark outside. She still felt tired, but was that because she’d only been asleep for a few hours, or because her head was still achy?

The bump was still on her temple from where she’d smacked the steering wheel, but it didn’t seem as large. Or maybe hope was distorting her memory.

With a sigh, Sage turned and faced the rest of the room. The bar was empty but tidy, though it seemed it didn’t get a lot of use. She listened for any sounds of Soren returning, and when she heard nothing in return, she decided to do more snooping.

Sage wouldn’t feel guilty. He’d left a reporter alone in his house. What did the man… beast expect?

She padded across the wood floor toward the closed doors.

What if she found a pile of bodies?

No. That’s ridiculous.

She would have smelled them by now.

The brass knobs were cool to the touch, but they opened with ease when she pushed in. She didn’t get far. Something stopped the door, and for a split second she imagined it was a foot belonging to a dead body.

With a scan of the room, she deduced she was wrong. She craned her neck around the door and found more of the same: boxes. Lots and lots of boxes.

They covered the floor, were stacked on the bed. She couldn’t enter the room if she tried.

She huffed as she closed the door and took a few steps to the right before pushing in the second door.

More boxes. Who had this much stuff?

She tried to shove the door open gently, but none of the boxes would budge.

“Well, that’s not very nice,” a deep, rumbly voice said from behind her.