not sounded. We have glass breaks. I had to stifle the impulse to laugh or cry, possibly both. Obviously an alarm would not stop Jack Mooney or any other criminal who possessed a little intention and even the slightest bit of determination. We should have invested in cameras when it was suggested. Then we’d have evidence. We could have potentially called the police while the situation was in progress. Then Mooney might be in jail, and I might sleep tonight.
Instead, what we have is a terrible situation. There are only two things missing, as far as I can tell: Our family photo that hung over the mantle, and the gun I purchased for protection.
I can’t bring myself to tell Greg. The rest of it is bad enough. I didn’t want to bring it up in front of the police, knowing that my husband would have been blindsided. I need him focused, not picking a fight. I can always report it missing later. That, and I was too distraught about what was left behind to think about what was missing. Under our Christmas tree, a single wrapped gift that neither Greg nor I were responsible for. Inside the wrapping paper? Rocky’s collar.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Greg avoids my gaze, which is how I know he is angry. I’m not offended. The feeling is mutual. Having to share a double bed with two children, while my husband stretches out in the other all alone, is not winning him any brownie points. Not only am I bitter, my nerves are raw. I haven’t slept well in weeks. I don’t feel safe in my own home, and I don’t feel safe in this hotel. I don’t feel safe anywhere. I’m steadily on the brink of losing my mind, and it wouldn’t take much to push me over the edge. Neither one of us knows where to go from here.
An impromptu staycation is not something we can afford right now, monetarily nor mentally.
The police obtained camera footage from two of our neighbors, which so far has turned up nothing. This means that Mooney had to have entered through the woods our house backs up to. To accomplish that, he would have had to scale the rock wall that lines our backyard and spans all of the backyards on our street. It seems like a feat, if all he wanted to do was to leave Rocky’s collar. It also means he would have had to have done the same when he took Rocky. Something that would have been difficult, if not impossible.
Fanning myself, it’s hot being sandwiched between two children, I realize I need to look at this differently. I need to come at it from another direction. You don’t have to be a rocket scientist to see that things don’t add up.
“Can you please turn on the air?” I hiss. It’s the third time I’ve asked. Greg swears the AC smells like cigarette smoke, even though the lobby attendant has assured him this is a non-smoking room. “Or crack a window?”
“Am I allowed to do that? Are you sure it won’t let the boogeymen in?”
“I don’t want to fight with you.”
“Fine.” He flings himself out of bed and flips on the air conditioner. “It’s forty degrees outside.”
“It feels like hell in here.” Smells like it, too. Greg was right. The AC is putting out a distinctively smoky smell. Unfortunately, I’m too prideful to admit it, so the musky aroma fills the room. When Naomi complains, I snap at her. Then I curl my body around hers, inhaling the scent of shampoo from her still wet hair. “I’m sorry, baby.” The soft haze of sleep overtaking her, she folds into me and pats the arm I have wrapped around her.
I think about what Alex had said about changing a situation, by buying time and shifting the balance of power.
I am learning this is easier said than done. For one, my focus is nearly nonexistent. All I can think about is Mooney rummaging around in our home. Imagining him touching my things, and my daughters’ things…it creeps me out. Not to mention the gun and what a mess it is going to be to have to explain. If Greg is angry now, just wait. He will say this is why he was vehemently against it in the first place, lest it ends up in the hands of a criminal.
Later, the room properly smells like a nightclub. When the girls are firmly asleep, I extract myself with such stealth and precision,