Chapter 45
It was long past dark, and there'd been no sign of Joel. For what felt like the millionth time, I wandered to the front window and pulled aside the nearest curtain. Outside, it was raining buckets. It had been raining like this for at least three hours now.
I saw the flash of lightning and heard the crack of thunder. Staring out the window, I stifled a shiver. It was the perfect kind of night to curl up in front of a warm fire with someone you loved.
But the person I loved wasn't here, even though today was Saturday, the day he was supposed to be back. Just like so many times before, I wasn't sure if I should be worried or angry.
I waited until midnight before giving up – at least until tomorrow. I trudged through the house and turned off all of the lights, leaving only the porch light on – not for Joel, I told myself, but because that's what I always did.
And then, I went up to my bedroom, took a shower, and threw on some sleeping shorts and a loose t-shirt over them. I crawled into bed and lay there, gazing up at the darkened ceiling. Around me, the house felt too big and too lonely.
I shut my eyes, trying to block out the time, along with everything else. It was then that I heard it – a loud metallic sound that made me bolt upright in the bed.
A moment later, I heard it again. My heart was racing now. The way it sounded, it was coming frominsidethe house, somewhere on the main floor.
Joel?
No. It couldn't be him. He wouldn't just barge in on his own and start clanging around downstairs. He'd ring the doorbell, or at least knock.
Wouldn't he?
Regardless, I couldn't just lie here like an idiot and hope for the best.
From under the covers, I reached for my nearby cell phone and called the police. In a hushed whisper, I explained what was happening, and they promised to send someone right away.
Still, I couldn't help but flinch when the same sound rang out again. Hoping for some clue of what was going on, I crept silently out of bed and tiptoed to my partially open bedroom door.
And then, I listened.
I heard nothing, except for the pounding of my own heart and the ragged sounds of my nervous breathing. Determined to get a grip, I took a deep, steadying breath and counted to ten.
Outside, the rain had stopped, leaving the house eerily quiet until I heard something that almost made me groan out loud. It was the sound of Uncle Ernie, calling out, "Hey Viv, was it thesilverpunch bowl? Or the crystal one?"
Oh, for God's sake.
I bolted out of my bedroom and practically flew down the stairs, flicking on the lights as I went. I found my uncle in the kitchen, crouched behind the center island. He had his whole head poked into the cupboard underneath it and was rummaging around inside.
Without looking, he said, "I know you like silver, but the crystal's probably worth more." He gave a low chuckle. "You know what? Heck with it. I'll just grab both."
I rolled my eyes. "Don't forget the ladles."
"Good thinking," he said, and then suddenly froze. Slowly, his head emerged from inside the cabinet. He twisted his neck to gaze up at me. His eyes were wide, and his hair – or should I say his toupee? – was slightly askew. He was wearing a green sports jacket with matching green pants.
He looked like a crazed leprechaun.
I crossed my arms. "Hi."
He gave me a shaky smile. "Oh hey, Melody. Funny seeing you here."
"Yeah," I said. "Funny."
From somewhere deep inside the house, I heard Aunt Vivian's voice echo off the walls. "Hey Ernie! Don’t forget the little cups!"
Unable to stop myself, I called back, "Which ones? Silver? Or Crystal?"
The words had barely left my mouth when I heard the sounds of cars roaring into the driveway.
The police?