I sat at the kitchen table, cradling a mug of steaming coffee in my hands, trying to put myself in Kassian’s shoes and not having much luck. Still in my coat, my body temperature was slowly rising and feeling was returning to my cheeks. I gripped the mug tighter, relishing its warmth, tempted to pour its contents over my head. What I really wanted to do was crawl into bed, pull up the covers, and awaken a month from now, all the lies and half-truths and deceptions exposed, arguments settled. But this wasn’t about my wishes. I couldn’t run and hide. Kassian, if no one else, was counting on me.

As soon as I’d arrived, I’d called Carol on the off chance that she’d taken him in again. There’d been no answer—she was probably still at her conference—so I left a message for her to call me as soon as she could. I didn’t really think he’d be able to get to her house without a ride, but I needed to cover all my bases.

I took a long slurp of coffee, not even tasting it, just gulping it to feel the warmth as the liquid rushed down my gullet. I put the mug against my cheek. Where would an old guy like Kassian go in the middle of a snowstorm? Did something happen at the Home that spooked him? Did his “stalker” track him down and threaten him in person? Or worse?

I didn’t let the logical side of my brain catch up to my emotional side. I picked up the phone and called Lev. Jenn answered. “Hey, cold enough for you? Hold on, I’m putting you on speaker.” I heard a bunch of clattering, dishes and silverware being unloaded from the dishwasher. “It’s Josh.”

Peter’s voice came from the background, sounding as if he were in a long tunnel. “What’s up, Josh?”

“Is Lev around?” I tried to tamp down my anxiety.

“Funny you should ask. We were just wondering where he was,” Peter said. “I’ve tried his cell, but—surprise—no answer. I should give him another talking to about that.”

The background clattering subsided and Jenn said, “Is anything wrong? He stormed out of here about an hour after you left, grumbling about something. With this weather, I’d feel a lot better if he were home.”

“Yeah, it’s getting nastier out there, but I’m sure he’s okay,” I said. An image of Lev ambushing Kassian along the wooded trail popped into my head and I had trouble shaking it.

“I hope so, too.” Peter said. “Why did you want to speak to him?”

“I don’t know where Kassian is. I thought maybe Lev would know where he was.” I heard Jenn say something to Peter and Peter answer, but I couldn’t make out the words.

A moment later, Peter’s voice came over the phone, louder. He’d taken me off speaker. “He’s missing? Where did you last see him?”

I explained that I’d left him at the Hebrew Home, under the not-watchful-enough eye of one of the workers there. I condensed my fruitless hour walk in the frigid wilderness into a single sentence.

“So he’s not at your house, and he’s not at the Hebrew Home where you left him,” Peter said. “He have any friends?”

“None that I know of.” Now that Abe was gone, that is.

“What’s your best guess? Where do you think he might be? He can’t just be meandering through the woods. It’s cold out there,” Peter said.

“If I had to guess, I’d say that’s exactly what he’s doing. Or what he started to do. He might have started out on a walk, not realizing how cold it was. Maybe he ducked into a store or a restaurant. Hell, for all I know, he could be sitting in some stranger’s living room right now, sipping tea. I don’t know.” The more I talked, the crazier I sounded. And the more worried I became. Kassian wasn’t the type to venture into an unknown store or restaurant. Certainly not some stranger’s home. “He’s an old, depressed guy. The cold could kill him.” I’d read about mountain climbers who got too tired to continue, lay down, and never got up again.

“Hang on,” Peter said, and then I heard his muffled voice talking to Jenn. A minute later, he was back with me. “Okay. How about this? I’m going to drive over to the Home and look around. Maybe he returned there. If I can’t find him, I’ll drive around the area, looking for him. You search around your house. Maybe he lost his key and went to a neighbor’s house. Sound like a plan?”

I thought a moment. No sense trying to save my pride any more. I’d “lost” Kassian and needed all the help I could get. “Thanks so much, Peter. You don’t have to do this, you know.”

“Hey, you’d do the same if it were Lev who’d wandered off, right?”

“Sure,” I said. “Sure.”

___

I took Peter’s suggestion and went out to canvass the neighbors. No one at the first two houses remembered seeing Kassian, but an elderly lady at the third house recalled something.

“The older fella? Kinda short?” she said, squinching her eyes together. “Yeah, I think I saw him.”

“Today?”

“Yeah. Today,” she said. “Or …” Her head tilted, and she squeezed her eyes until they closed completely. Visualizing.

“Yes?”

“Or maybe it was a few days ago?” The eyes opened. “And I think I’m getting him confused with another guy. The MacKenzies’ plumber, across the way. He was short and old too. Although he was kinda fat and had a bushy moustache.” She shrugged. “Sorry.”

I tried three other houses on the street and came up empty. Given that Kassian used his side door and got around town via the trail system in the woods out back, the neighbors probably wouldn’t have seen him no matter how many times he’d come and gone.

I returned home, but didn’t go in. Stood outside Kassian’s door and watched the snowflakes flutter. The blizzard had eased, but the wind still gusted, and with night approaching, it had gotten even colder. I pulled out my cell and checked for messages. None. He was still missing.

I flipped open my phone and called Erik. His buddy Brandon had been pretty hot the other night. What if he was trying to follow through on his threat? Could he have broken in and wrecked Kassian’s photo? Terrorize me by terrorizing Kassian? Could he have snatched him from the Hebrew Home?

Erik answered after the first ring. “Hello?”

“Hey, this is Josh. Can you do me a favor?”

“Sure. Name it,” Erik said.

“Can you call Brandon and find out what he’s doing right now?”

There was a pause. “Why?”

I didn’t feel like explaining, especially if I was way off base. “Can you just do it? Please?”

There was another pause. “Okay.”

“Great. Call me back, will you?” I hung up. Took a deep breath. It was a long shot, but I wanted to be thorough.

I took another deep breath, knowing what had to be done.

There was one place I hadn’t looked yet and I’d been putting it off, not exactly sure why. I guess I didn’t want to believe that Kassian would choose that place over coming home, that my house—with me in it—was so terrible. But it would be dark soon and I couldn’t leave Kassian there, if that’s where he was. It was time to check his hidey-hole in the woods.

I’d left my car at the Hebrew Home, so I had no choice but to hoof it. Which was good, really. I wouldn’t want to miss him coming back, if I was on the road and he was walking on the path. I ran back inside to go to the bathroom and get a flashlight, then I decided to change into my hiking boots. No telling how much snow I’d have to wade through. I took the cell phone out of my pocket and wedged it into the back of my glove so I’d be sure to feel it vibrate. It looked like some kind of grotesque, rectangular-shaped tumor. I slipped the other glove on, tied my hood up tight, and closed the door behind me, making sure it was unlocked. Just in case Kassian found his own way home and had somehow lost his key.

I stomped through the backyard and out to the trail behind the house. I’d come this way only about forty-five minutes ago, but the blowing snow had already wiped away my footprints leaving no sign that I’d been there. Ahead, the pristine path beckoned. With a quick glance back at the house, I set off to find Kassian.

It felt surreal in the woods, all alone, bringing back childhood daydreams of being stranded under twenty-foot snowfalls where the only way to get around was to tunnel through the snow. The snow seemed to dampen the sounds of the woods, turning my footfalls into muffled steps, more pressure than noise. The only thing I heard was the pulse pounding in my ears. I didn’t know whether it was an acoustical property of the snow itself, or whether all the animals had simply gone to ground, but everything was muted. And it wasn’t only the sound; the colors also seemed strangely bleached, as if I were the last human on earth walking in a frigid dreamscape. Funny how the cold could play tricks on the mind.

It was darker in the woods than out in the open due to the tree canopy, and it pained me to think of Kassian sitting on the ledge, tucked into the small cave, shivering. All alone in the world. I picked up the pace, breaking into a slow jog. When I got to the fork in the trail, I stopped, flicking my flashlight on to examine the path heading toward the Hebrew Home. The snow appeared undisturbed. I thought about going to get my car, but it would take too long. Quicker—if colder—on foot. I took a big breath and jogged off down the path toward the golf course.

I ran along, arms pumping and breath churning from my mouth like a steam locomotive. I settled into a rhythm and soon realized running in hiking boots was a lot more strenuous than flying along in running shoes. I was sure I’d have blisters tomorrow. Despite my exertion, I was damned cold. Poor Kassian.

I emerged from the woods and the golf clubhouse rose into view, covered in white frosting like a fairy tale gingerbread house. I half-expected to bump into Hansel and Gretel walking along, hand-in-hand. Too bad Kassian hadn’t thought to leave a trail of bread crumbs for me to follow. A couple of spotlights highlighted a sign that read “Reston Hills Golf Course,” but there were no vehicles in the parking lot, just a couple abandoned golf carts parked by the side entrance.

I stopped for a minute to get my bearings, ignoring the protests from my aching feet.

On the other side of the putting green was the tenth tee, although I could barely make it out, the darkness outside of the woods catching up. I loped off again, down the right side of the tenth fairway. For a while I found decent footing on the cart path, which curved along with the treeline, but then I lost contact with it, running on the grass of the golf course itself. My way was more direct and faster, if a little bumpier. I switched on the flashlight and left it on, every so often shining it down at my feet to make sure I didn’t stray into a bunker or water hazard.

When I reached the tenth green, I veered right, back onto the wooded path, toward my goal. I picked up the pace and kept my head raised, hoping—praying—I’d see Kassian walking toward me. But I was the only fool out in this weather. Even the animals had more sense than I did.

I slowed as I approached Kassian’s cave. Although it had to be only fifteen or twenty yards away, it was hard to tell exactly where things were in the snow. Everything seemed whitewashed, making it difficult to get any real depth perception.

“Kassian,” I called out. His name sounded strange in the dark woods. Alien. There was no answer as I drew closer. I swept my light across the path. Small depressions—footprint sized—seemed evident, but it could have been my imagination. I wanted so badly to find Kassian it was possible I was seeing things where none existed. I examined the hill leading up to his ledge. Again, it looked like something had disturbed the snow. The wind? Perhaps. A squirrel, a fox? Hard to guess.

“Kassian,” I called out again. The wind whistled through the trees in response.

I scanned the area and broke a small branch off a tree. Clambered up the hill, grabbing on to whatever I could to pull myself up. A tree trunk, a rock, a bush. I slipped and scrabbled, but I made it. I stopped just short of the ledge and held the stick—pointy side out—in one hand, flashlight in the other. I didn’t want to corner a rabid fox in the cave completely unarmed. I counted to three and hoisted my body up the last few feet onto the ledge, stick poised for action.

The cave was empty, save for a single piece of trash.

An empty Junior Mints box.