Page 29 of No Control
My mouth grows dry as I pull my phone out, dialing 9-1-1. However, before I hit the call button, I rethink the move. Is that who I should call? Or just the sheriff’s office? I don’t want to interfere with real emergencies. Is this a real emergency? My finger smashes the call button.
Forget it. I’m not leaving this room until someone comes to help me.
***
Fifteen minutes later, I’m racing to the front door, whipping it open to greet the sheriff’s deputy. Duke stands behind me, peering around my legs. He’s still yet to be let out to use the bathroom and seems a little out of it this morning. Is he sick? Or am I just overanalyzing it?
“Lydia Waters?”
I nod, tightening the robe around me as I choke out, “Yes.”
“I’m Deputy Briggins. Is there any signs of someone still being in here?” The deputy is a good ten years older than me—and he does not look enthused to be here. I gaze out into the yard, worry probing my brain. Will he even care?
I shake my head. “No, but I locked myself in the spare room until you got here.”
He sighs. “Do I have permission to check the residence?”
I bob my head and step out of the way, letting the heavyset officer slip past me. I wait by the entryway as he draws his gun and checks every nook and cranny.
He returns to me, holstering his gun. “Inside is clear. I can check around outside. You said your guns are missing?”
“Yeah, they emptied my safe, too.”
“Any other valuables missing?”
I blink a couple of times. “I don’t…I don’t know.”
He raises a brow at me. “Maybe you should check?”
“Um, yeah, of course.” I take off for the gun safe, knowing there’s a stash of cash tucked away in the back corner. Mason had no clue it was there, but if he saw it…I know he would’ve taken it. Deputy Briggins follows me to the spare room, and I reopen the safe, reaching for the white letter-sized envelope.
Still there.
I pour over the rest of the contents. “Nothing else is missing.”
“Well, I guess we’ll just write up a report for the guns.”
“Is that it?” I gape. “I mean, someone broke into my house last night and stole the pistol right off my nightstand.”
“Why did you have a gun on your nightstand?”
Shit.
“My ex-fiancé hasn’t taken our split very well.” And I shot at him. But I don’t mention that. However, the realization hits me like a ton of bricks. I might be digging my own grave with this report…But what else am I supposed to do? My stomach churns.
“I see. And so, he came and stole your guns?” Deputy Briggins studies my face. “Has anything else happened?”
“Um.” I hesitate, hung on whether or not to tell the deputy the truth.
“If something has occurred between the two of you, it’s better for me to know now, than to find out later.” His voice is indifferent, almost robotic.
“He showed up at my house unannounced and drunk. He lunged at me.” I leave out the part where I shot at him again, though I know Mason won’t. I need to call a lawyer or something.
“I see, and did you feel threatened?” “Yes,” I snap at him.
“Why didn’t you call it in then?”
“I don’t know. He left. I thought I was fine.”
