He nodded.
“Then I heard something break. By the time I looked outside again, they were leaving. Something didn’t feel right, so I wrote down the truck’s plate number.”
He lowered his eyes.
“I should’ve called you.”
After the officers finished, I checked the kitchen.
“You couldn’t have known.”
The officer took the plate number, photographed the damage, and asked me not to touch anything.
My sister Jenna arrived with pizza while the officer finished his notes. She fed the kids and promised to help clean up afterward.
After the officers finished, I checked the kitchen.
One drawer had been pulled loose from the island. When I tried to slide it back into place, I noticed a folded sheet of paper wedged between the drawer runner and the cabinet wall.
I recognized Linda’s name before I noticed the date.
It looked as though it had fallen from a pocket when the drawer was yanked open.
I pulled it free.
It was a truck rental agreement.
I recognized Linda’s name before I noticed the date.
Monday.
She’d rented the truck the day before Derek broke into my house.
I put the agreement in an envelope and sent him the images.
Her name was on the agreement, and the payment had been made using her credit card.
I photographed it and called the officer who’d handled our report. He asked me to email him the photographs and keep the original somewhere safe.
I put the agreement in an envelope and sent him the images.
Then I called my attorney, Denise.
Denise said she’d prepare a demand letter for Linda and a separate evidence packet to supplement the police report.
“I have a witness who saw Linda carrying things out,” I told her. “And now I have proof she rented the truck.”
“Send me copies of everything,” Denise said. “And don’t contact Derek directly.”
“I wasn’t planning to.”
Denise said she’d prepare a demand letter for Linda and a separate evidence packet to supplement the police report.
Before dark, an emergency repairman secured the damaged entrance so the door could lock. The permanent repairs would have to wait until the following day.
“I think Dad made some bad choices.”
That night, the children slept together in my room.
At midnight, Harper whispered, “Is Dad mad at our house?”
I looked at all three of them squeezed under one blanket.
“I think Dad made some bad choices.”
“Will he come back?”
“The police are helping us,” I said. “The door is secure, and tomorrow we’re replacing the damaged frame and locks.”
One packet contained the demand for the return of our belongings and payment for the damage.
Harper reached across Lucy and took Mason’s hand.
Neither of them said anything else.
The following morning, after dropping the children off at school and daycare, I checked my email. Denise had sent the documents.
One packet contained the demand for the return of our belongings and payment for the damage. The other contained the evidence to be added to the police investigation.
When I returned home, the repairman replaced the damaged doorframe and locks.
I forwarded the second packet to the investigating officer. The original rental agreement remained safely at home.
Then I placed Linda’s packet inside a small cardboard box. I included a short note explaining that a separate evidence packet had been prepared for the police.
I drove to the house where Derek was staying with his mother and left the box on their front porch.
I didn’t knock.
When I returned home, the repairman replaced the damaged doorframe and locks.
At seven thirty, someone began pounding on my new front door.
By dinner, I’d heard nothing.
At seven thirty, someone began pounding on my new front door.
Derek stood outside, pale as a sheet.
Linda was behind him, crying.
“Please,” she said. “Tell me you haven’t sent the other one yet!”
“The evidence packet? The police already have it.”
I kept the storm door locked.
“The evidence packet? The police already have it.”
Linda’s face drained of color.
Derek stepped toward the glass.
