***
Savage Construction was founded by Tiberius and Atticus Savage over thirty-five years ago. It’s across from Roxy’s Bar. Behind the garage is a workshop and warehouse for equipment and construction materials. The company began with carpentry work and renovations and today has grown to also offer design and build services for residential, industrial, and commercial spaces.
It's me and Riley that run it full time, though all of the council have worked here and sometimes hop on for bigger jobs. Joel has been growing his tech company. Some of us consult for other pack problems, particularly me, Grey, and Lincoln. Linc offers those same investigation and tracking services to other packs and when that’s slow he’s either working with us or he’s been known to take occasional projects as a bounty hunter, most often for other supernaturals but sometimes with mainstream clients. Jase and Grey are also into real estate investment and development.
I’m hoping work lets me escape my misery for a couple hours.
When I arrive, I see Riley’s motorcycle is gone. It’s early, he likely drove to meet the other guys for a run, and that suits me just fine. I’ve had enough of people this weekend and am looking forward to some peace and quiet.
4
Amelia Brennan
I pull into the gas station and turn my car off. A woman somewhere in her early thirties, I think, with clear blue eyes and great skin steps outside, eyes on me, filled with suspicion.
I smile in the hopes of putting her at ease. “Hi,” I greet.
“Need directions?” she asks.
It’s probably obvious that I don’t need gas since I haven’t stopped at the pump. It’s strange that she greets me outside though, as if assuming I don’t want to come in and buy something from the store or use their restroom or something like that. Very strange.
“Actually, I’m looking for Savage Construction. I’m told it’s somewhere around these parts.”
Her head tilts sideways and she wrinkles her nose. Like she’s sniffing the air. She’s a suspicious one. Her eyes move from my face to my feet and back up.
“You related to Ivy Savage?”
“Ivy what?” I gasp.
***
I’m here because my sister is gone. Again.
She wasn’t answering her phone and she told me in a phone call right after her snake bite incident that the guy she met up here was named Tyson Savage. After what I found at her place last night, I stayed the night with Mom and at dawn, snuck out to drive to Drowsy Hollow.
Someone in a little diner, where I dropped the Tyson Savage name mentioned there was a company not far away called Savage Construction. A bunch of big, strong men who built homes and commercial buildings. No one knew where it was. I was directed to a website. I called the phone number.
“Is Tyson there please?”
“Tyson?” The man’s voice went strange. “Did you say Tyson?”
“I’m looking for Tyson Savage,” I said. “Is he there?”
“Who are you?” the husky male voice asked.
Something didn’t feel right. Something felt very not right.
“Is Tyson Savage affiliated with this company? I’m trying to find my sister and have reason to believe she’s with him.”
“Your sister?”
“Do you know a Tyson Savage or don’t you?” I demanded.
“What’s your name?”
“Amelia,” I answered.
“Amelia.” His voice was strange. Or stranger.
Way weird. I hung up, feeling odd. Feeling panic, I think. A minute later, the phone was ringing with ‘private caller’.
I rejected the call for some reason.
And then I regretted it. I don’t know why all the hairs on my body were standing on end from that phone call. I should’ve answered the phone, I was sure it was that same guy. I should’ve answered and demanded more information.
I searched the phone number I dialed with a map search, and it came up with Savage Construction listing with a PO Box address. I went to the map to pinpoint the zip code and it brought me to this corner, to the Arcana Falls General Store and gas bar, which has a post office kiosk.
Ivy was a mess yesterday and I hated letting her go back to her place. I got home after dinner and my fiancé was just like sandpaper on my nerves for some reason, so I packed an overnight bag and told him I was going to stay with Ivy until Tamara got back from Jamaica next week. He wasn’t happy about it, but I told him I’d call him later, that I was too worried about my sister to not be there for her. I loaded up my car and went to Ivy’s. But Ivy wasn’t there. Neither was her car. Her upstairs neighbor came down and started spouting off to me about the commotion a while earlier, about three giant men being there and making all sorts of racket and pissing him off. This guy went on about complaining to the landlord and not so that he could alert me that my sister might be in trouble, because he didn’t like that my lights shined in his window when I pulled in.