Page 50 of Cabin Fever

"It's fat from meat. That's how the intruder got Kitty to stop barking—he fed her raw meat." Carter bent down and rubbed the dog's head as if she helped defend the home from the intruder instead of succumbing to his food charms.

"I thought you said Kitty helped you take down wolves? Yet, she did nothing to the dum-dum on the floor."

Cater stood and shrugged. "What can I do? It's not the first time Kitty failed to guard the place. If I remember correctly, she fell in love with you after you threw a can of beans at her."

My heart warmed as Carter moved closer.

"I wasn't aiming for Kitty."

His arms slid around me. Carter was warm as the adrenaline wore off and I rested my head on his chest.

"I know. I don't think my floor appreciates you throwing cans at it."

I swatted at his arm. "I meant that I was aiming for you."

"You were? I never would have guessed."

I pulled back and pointed to my toes. "These are weapons. Be careful what you say. Don't you have a call to make?"

"Yes, but it's so much fun teasing you. I tell you what, you go in and lie down. You've done enough for today. I'll call the police and wait for them to arrive."

I tried to stifle the yawn, but it was too much. Nodding, I moved toward the bedroom. But I stopped just outside the door, remembering something. "How did that guy," I pointed at the lump of bugler on the floor, "know your last name?"

His eyebrows rose before he looked down at the intruder. "You heard that, huh? I guess he must have poked in my mailbox at the end of the driveway."

He kept staring at the guy on the floor and wouldn't look at me. I didn't believe him. Having grown up with a father who could sweet talk a thirsty man out of his last bit of water, I knew how to spot a lie. The only thing Carter could do that would make it more obvious that he was lying would be to have large neon signs pointing at him that read: I AM LYING.

"Okay . . ." I nodded before moving back into the bedroom.

Once I was back in bed, the warm blanket felt scratchy and I couldn't get comfortable on the soft mattress. I heard the muffled sounds of the police speaking with Carter. I knew we were safe now that the bad guy was being taken away. Yet I lie awake staring at the ceiling with thoughts of missing puzzle pieces floating in my head.

I tried to think of my call with my sister. How wonderful it was to hear her voice, but that only reminded me of my discussion with Tyler about Carter's past. Then my mind wandered back even further to my elementary school. I was in first grade when a picture of a young boy who disappeared was permanently erected in the cafeteria. A dedication to his life that turned into whispers and finally succumbed to legend.

SIXTEEN

Carter

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