Chapter Twenty Nine

Lauren methodically rummaged through the cupboards; Toby was going to wake up hungry. Happily, the man had his house stocked for a siege. She thought about Italian she had gotten rather good at cooking Italian foodbut she didn’t know if Toby liked it. Stew seemed a safer choice. The chest freezer in the basement was fullof meat wrapped in white freezer paper, neatly labeled. Shebbrought up a package proclaiming itself to be elk stew meat to begin thawing on the counter. She’d never eaten elk before but assumed that stew meat was stew

meat. In the fridge she found carrots, onions, and celery. Now all she needed were potatoes. They weren’t in the fridge or on the counters; they weren’t on top of the fridge or under the sink. Anyone as well stocked as Toby was bound to have potatoes somewhere unless he hated potatoes. She was bent over with her head in a lower cupboard singing softly, “Where oh where have my little potatoes gone,” when the sound of a cell phone made her jerk her head up