“Yes, I’m here to take care of his dog. I figured I’d drop his car off too.”
“Where does he live?”
I gave her the address, and she said she’d be over in about an hour. Just enough time for me to take care of Babbitt and do a little snooping around.
I pulled the car into the garage to the right of the truck and the boat. It wasn’t like most people’s garages—untidy with stuff everywhere. It was almost as clean as his house. I could hear Babbitt crying from inside, so I decided to let him out before I snooped.
The stairs leading up to the house from the garage were only wide enough to hold one person, and when I opened the door, Babbitt nearly toppled me backward down them.
“Whoa, buddy. Chill out.” I patted the top of his head. “You’re okay.”
Poor guy needed to pee so badly, he almost did it on the floor right then and there. Thankfully, I got him out into the fenced backyard in time. A fancy ceramic container that matched the kitchen décor held gourmet dog food.
At the sound of food hitting his bowl, Babbitt raced back to the house and shoved his head into the bowl, furiously attacking the bits of dog food gold.
While Babbitt ate, I decided to take a look around. I was careful not to touch anything as I made my way up the stairs and into what looked to be a guest bedroom. The smell of lavender and vanilla pricked at my senses. A delicate white bedspread with tiny purple flowers covered the queen-sized bed. Two white nightstands sat on either side framing the white Victorian style headboard. Other than an alarm clock, the stands were completely void of items.
The room had a walk-in closet and a private bathroom. The medicine cabinet was as bare as the one downstairs.
I moved on.
My heart raced when I stood in front of what I assumed to be Garrett’s bedroom door. The pitter-patter of dog paws up the hardwood stairs alerted me to Babbitt’s presence. His eyes were accusatory as he sat next to me.
“I know, I shouldn’t be doing this. But I’m trying to help,” I said as much to convince him as myself. “Don’t you want your daddy back?” What could I possibly find to clear his name? There was only one way to find out.
“Here goes nothing,” I said.
Babbitt let out a low howl.
I turned the doorknob, and the heavy door swung open without a sound. The smell of Garrett’s cologne wafted over me sending chills up my neck where his kisses had been only hours before.
The room was enormous, almost as big as the apartment I’d shared with my ex. The king-sized bed sat pushed up against a wall with a picture window to one side framing what I guessed would be a great view of the mountains past the city skyline that looked like Christmas lights against the dark sky.
He had to have paid a fortune for this house.
I inched my way into the room, my Adidas leaving footprints in the freshly vacuumed white carpet. Two doors stood regally on the opposite wall leading to what I assumed to be a bathroom and closet.
Starting with the bathroom, I pulled my shirtsleeve over my hand and turned the doorknob. The main focal point of the meticulously clean granite and white room was a circular jet tub, but even the toilet was spotless.
Was this man inhuman? Did he not pee? I’d never seen a cleaner bathroom.
The lighted mirrors atop the granite countertop with a turquoise glass bowl sink didn’t have cabinets behind them. I opened a drawer to find hand towels rolled neatly next to a soap dish and an unwrapped but unused bar of soap.
Moving on to each drawer, I became more and more frustrated. Everything looked untouched. The toothbrush was in perfect condition, the toothpaste still plump, and there were absolutely zero pill bottles matching the ones I’d seen before.
Not only did something seem off, but I was starting to doubt the possibility of having a relationship with this man. There was no way Garrett would want to live with me if things got more serious. I wasn’t messy per se, but I definitely wouldn’t be able to keep up with this level of cleanliness.
Babbitt stood at the edge of the doorway, not stepping a paw into the room when I emerged from the bathroom.
“What’s going on here?” I asked him.
He tilted his head to the side and let out a low growl.
“I know, you don’t want me in here but—”
Woof!
His bark made me jump.
“Okay, okay. I’m done.” Inside at least. There was a still a boat and truck I needed to check out.
16
When I opened the door of the truck, a wafting of stale power bait and a faint hint of a woman’s perfume hit me in the face. I searched through the thoroughly dirty vehicle only to find a pair of broken sunglasses, several empty beer cans, and a lacy black bra that would come closer to fitting Carmen’s Dolly-sized boobs than my own almost-B cup.
Was Garrett seeing someone else? And why in the world would any girl take off their bra in such a disgusting vehicle? There were trash wrappers on the floor, a layer of dust on the dash thicker than Nikki’s fake acrylic nails, and honestly, it smelled like something—or someone—had died in there. The thought of Garrett stepping foot in this trash heap didn’t fit. I had to be missing something.
I snapped pictures with my phone and moved onto the boat. I pushed myself up on the wheel well of the boat trailer and swung one leg after the other over the side. Careful not to disturb too much, I picked through the various items of clothing thrown about. The black duffel bag was missing, but the tackle box was still half-open with the prescription bottles lying inside.
He hadn’t even taken them in with him? He had to have
