Ethan is meticulous with his things. His bag never looks that messy.
“Do you think…” Teeny starts but clamps her mouth shut. I can tell she is trying very hard not to burst into tears.
Ethan is pissed. “I think someone has been through my truck.”
He cranks his truck and we race to my house. Ethan calls his dad and tells him to change the code on the gate to the farm. By the time we pull into my driveway, cops are already there.
Teeny and I both run inside and launch ourselves at Dad the second we see him. He hugs us back, hard, and starts crying.
He mumbles the same sentence over and over. “What if you had been here? What if you had been here?”
“We think someone went through Ethan’s truck, too,” I tell him.
Dad leans closer and Ethan tells him everything that was out of place or missing in his truck.
I look around the house while they talk and it’s not completely obvious someone had been there. It’s the little things like drawers left open and the scattered stack of mail on the desk instead of the neat pile it was in this morning. It’s not like our house was ransacked, it’s just a little disturbed.
Just like Ethan’s truck.
An officer approaches us and Teeny grabs my hand so hard I almost yell out.
“I need to ask you just a few questions. When was the last time you were here today?”
I glance back at Ethan. My brain has turned to mush and I can’t even remember what the date is today.
“I picked them up around ten thirty this morning. Mr. Boyd was still here. We drove straight to my house where we stayed all day,” Ethan answers him. I wait for him to tell the officer about his truck, but he stays quiet.
The officer jots his reply in his little notebook then looks back at me. “Can you walk around the house with me and tell me what you think is different from this morning, or if you notice something missing?”
“Yes. Of course.” I follow behind him, feeling numb. There are officers everywhere. It reminds me of the house in Scottsdale after Thomas took the ledgers. Flashes pop and every surface is coated with a fine, black dust. If it was Thomas who broke in, my guess is they won’t find a single print of his anywhere. I reach behind me for Ethan’s hand and I feel better the second his fingers wrap around mine.
We’re in the kitchen and I make a full turn around the room. “Those cookbooks were in the cabinet, not out on the counter. I remember because I wiped down that counter after breakfast because it was sticky from the syrup Teeny spilled.”
I move near the phone and I can’t stop the chills that race through my body. “My school backpack was on the floor right here,” I say as I point to the ground. “It’s gone.”
And so it continues around the house. Knowing someone—probably Thomas—rummaged through our house is nauseating. I hate knowing his hands were on our things, and I wonder if I will ever feel safe in this house again. Teeny and Dad point out a few things but everything is pretty minor. Nothing really looks out of place except to us.
When we’re back in the den, the four of us crowd onto the couch. The officer looks torn when he starts speaking. “We’ve taken prints and will run them through the system. We could find no evidence of forced entry. And the things disturbed are only visible to you who are familiar with your home. We’ve had officers talk with your neighbors and no one has seen anything. At this point, I’m not sure if this wasn’t just some kid or junkie looking for some loose money or pills or something like that.”
“But what about…” Dad pinches my arm before I can finish, then gives a small shake of his head. Does he not want me to mention Ethan’s truck, or Thomas…or the journal?
“We’ll be finished up shortly and the report will be ready in the morning if you want to make a claim against your homeowners policy for the missing items.”
Finally the officer walks off so I can ask Dad what in the world is going on.
“I called Agent Williams right after I called 911. He’s on his way right now, flying into Shreveport then driving here tonight. He told me not to mention Thomas or the journal. He didn’t say why but he was emphatic. He said he will handle things when he gets here. He should be here within the hour.”
I deflate next to Ethan and he pulls me in close. Our good day is officially over.
Rules for disappearing
by Witness Protection prisoner #18A7R04M:
When the suits tell you not to use the Internet, you should really listen to them.
New rule by Anna Boyd:
You should also listen to what the suits aren’t saying…sometimes that’s where the real truth is.
