Went up and down stairs, calling, rattled the food bowl, looked under and on top of everything to no avail.
Opened every closet, looked in every bathtub and shower stall (he is a recreational drinker).
I don't know what made me open the carry-on suitcase in the bedroom, but there he was, fast asleep. He'd lifted the lid, crawled in, and let it close on himself.
Looked at me like I was some kind of idiot when I found him.