Untouched. “They’re okay.” My gaze sweeps the house as I walk through each room, heart pounding. What if the intruder is still here? “It doesn’t look like they did anything but trash my room.”
“Your room? What would anyone want in there?”
“I don’t know, but it’s upside down. I’m calling the cops.”
“I’ll be right home.”
Hands shaky, I dial 911. The dispatcher instructs me to wait outside, so I stand on the driveway. My nerves are peeled back. The adrenaline surging through my veins leaves me jumping at every bush moved by the wind, any branch scratching walls. Down the street, a dog barks.
What would anyone want in my room?
I have no idea if Judy keeps any money here, but I’m pretty sure Dad doesn’t have a safe. Still, the house has plenty of collectibles. And nothing was out of place on Memory Lane.
Then it dawns on me. The key to the safe deposit box. Judy knows something exchanged between Dick and me, but would she cannibalize her own?
After my visit with Solomon, I wonder if he somehow knows about the safe deposit box, if he knows it has something do with Grace Doll.
Whoever’s done this is serious. What would have happened if I’d been here? If Judy had been here? Fear needles me. I pull the safe deposit key from my pocket. Long, narrow and cool in my fingers, I’m blown away at the secret this key has kept locked away.
Dad, what have you gotten me into?
Down the street, colored, flashing lights cut through night. Two police cars zoom to the curb and park. Officers emerge. I slide the safe deposit key into the front pocket of my jeans and stand, body still shaking with raging adrenaline.
The next few minutes zip by in a blur of questions and answers. One officer does the interrogating, the others spread out and disappear in and around the perimeter of the house. After I tell the uniformed man all that I know, I feel useless.
Judy’s voice barbs the air. I hadn’t even noticed that she’d pulled up and parked behind one of the cop cars. She flurries through the twilight like a bat, dressed in all black leggings and a poncho. “Is there anything missing? What did they take?”
“Your son’s safe,” the officer calls after her.
Without responding, Judy disappears in the house.
* * *
After a thorough check of the house and its exterior, the officers go. It’s eerily quiet. Judy leaves a handful of lamps on, saying she’s spooked. I stay in my room, trying to figure out where to begin cleaning up the mess.
Judy stands in the door, arms crossed over her chest. She shakes her head. “I knew this would happen someday.”
I pick up the innards of my pillow.“How could you know this would happen? Are you clairvoyant?”
“Your father and his secrets. That’s what this is all about.”
I snort. She cocks her head. “I’m right. You watch. This is about him.” She turns, stops. “Keep the window closed and locked.”
“I never opened it.”
“You might be able to lie to the police, but you can’t lie to me.” Her critical gaze tries to puncture my face.
She leaves. No offer to sleep in one of the other rooms, a pillow to replace the shredded one in my hands, nothing like that. Dad, how did you live with her?
I slam the door.
“And don’t slam my doors!” she shouts from somewhere. I pull out my cell phone and dial Solomon.
“Brenden. It’s late.”
“You ransacked my room.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You’re lucky I don’t tell the police.”
“Tell them what? That you had a conversation with an old friend of your father’s? After you insulted him, you suspect him of ransacking your bedroom?”
He was right. Even if he was the only possible explanation, I didn’t have any proof except what my gut told me.
“Go to hell.” I click off the phone, ready to smash it against a wall. I stop myself. After blowing out a breath I dig into my pocket and pull out the letter from Dad. I stumble through the
“Your room? What would anyone want in there?”
“I don’t know, but it’s upside down. I’m calling the cops.”
“I’ll be right home.”
Hands shaky, I dial 911. The dispatcher instructs me to wait outside, so I stand on the driveway. My nerves are peeled back. The adrenaline surging through my veins leaves me jumping at every bush moved by the wind, any branch scratching walls. Down the street, a dog barks.
What would anyone want in my room?
I have no idea if Judy keeps any money here, but I’m pretty sure Dad doesn’t have a safe. Still, the house has plenty of collectibles. And nothing was out of place on Memory Lane.
Then it dawns on me. The key to the safe deposit box. Judy knows something exchanged between Dick and me, but would she cannibalize her own?
After my visit with Solomon, I wonder if he somehow knows about the safe deposit box, if he knows it has something do with Grace Doll.
Whoever’s done this is serious. What would have happened if I’d been here? If Judy had been here? Fear needles me. I pull the safe deposit key from my pocket. Long, narrow and cool in my fingers, I’m blown away at the secret this key has kept locked away.
Dad, what have you gotten me into?
Down the street, colored, flashing lights cut through night. Two police cars zoom to the curb and park. Officers emerge. I slide the safe deposit key into the front pocket of my jeans and stand, body still shaking with raging adrenaline.
The next few minutes zip by in a blur of questions and answers. One officer does the interrogating, the others spread out and disappear in and around the perimeter of the house. After I tell the uniformed man all that I know, I feel useless.
Judy’s voice barbs the air. I hadn’t even noticed that she’d pulled up and parked behind one of the cop cars. She flurries through the twilight like a bat, dressed in all black leggings and a poncho. “Is there anything missing? What did they take?”
“Your son’s safe,” the officer calls after her.
Without responding, Judy disappears in the house.
* * *
After a thorough check of the house and its exterior, the officers go. It’s eerily quiet. Judy leaves a handful of lamps on, saying she’s spooked. I stay in my room, trying to figure out where to begin cleaning up the mess.
Judy stands in the door, arms crossed over her chest. She shakes her head. “I knew this would happen someday.”
I pick up the innards of my pillow.“How could you know this would happen? Are you clairvoyant?”
“Your father and his secrets. That’s what this is all about.”
I snort. She cocks her head. “I’m right. You watch. This is about him.” She turns, stops. “Keep the window closed and locked.”
“I never opened it.”
“You might be able to lie to the police, but you can’t lie to me.” Her critical gaze tries to puncture my face.
She leaves. No offer to sleep in one of the other rooms, a pillow to replace the shredded one in my hands, nothing like that. Dad, how did you live with her?
I slam the door.
“And don’t slam my doors!” she shouts from somewhere. I pull out my cell phone and dial Solomon.
“Brenden. It’s late.”
“You ransacked my room.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You’re lucky I don’t tell the police.”
“Tell them what? That you had a conversation with an old friend of your father’s? After you insulted him, you suspect him of ransacking your bedroom?”
He was right. Even if he was the only possible explanation, I didn’t have any proof except what my gut told me.
“Go to hell.” I click off the phone, ready to smash it against a wall. I stop myself. After blowing out a breath I dig into my pocket and pull out the letter from Dad. I stumble through the
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