Chapter Eight—Julie #4
The officer tells me he’ll call again when they’re ready for me to come down. I sit on the floor beside the bed while strangers search my home for the second time in four days.
Dalen keeps calling until I silence the phone. He still calls after that, but I don’t have to hear his ringtone. It’s the song we danced to for our first dance at the wedding.
Twenty minutes later, Officer Grant calls back. They found nothing. Every exterior door is locked, every window is secure, and the alarm never triggered. Nobody appears on the cameras.
I go downstairs after they tell me it’s safe. Two officers are waiting in the kitchen. One asks what I heard. I explain the knocking and the drawer.
He checks the drawers, but nothing appears disturbed. “Could something have settled?” he asks carefully.
I look at him.
He clears his throat. “Pipes, cabinetry, or a temperature change?”
I glare. “I know what my kitchen drawers sound like.”
He nods and writes it down. They leave at two-ten, and I lock the door behind them.
Then I stand in the foyer of my own house and realize I don’t want to be here.
My phone shows nine missed calls from Dalen, and three texts.
With my throat aching from holding back tears, I call him.
He answers before the first ring finishes. “Julie.”
“I’m okay.”
His breath leaves him hard. “I’ve been losing my mind.”
I walk into the kitchen. “That’s an interesting choice of words.”
He curses softly.
I turn on every light. “They didn’t find anyone.”
“I know. Officer Grant called me.”
I stop beside the island. “You spoke to him?”
“Yes. I asked him to call me when they finished.”
I stare at the knife block. “Are you coming home to be with me or to monitor me?”
“I can be at the airport in twenty minutes.”
My eyes sting. “That wasn’t the question.” He doesn’t answer. I blink my eyes rapidly, refusing to cry. “Do you believe somebody was in this house tonight?”
“I believe you heard something.”
A sharp pain hits me, like he physically struck me. “Do you believe somebody was here?”
Dalen breathes out slowly. “I don’t know.”
Finally, the truth. It’s better than his careful tap dancing even if it hurts. I grip the edge of the island.
He keeps talking. “There’s no sign anyone entered. The alarm didn’t trigger, and the cameras didn’t catch anything. I don’t know how someone could’ve gotten in.”
“Noted.” I sound as composed as I did when Mrs. Hollman insisted on white furniture. It’s an impending disaster, but I can’t stop it from happening.
“Julie, I’m trying to be honest.”
“You are. That’s better than pandering.”
He curses again. “I don’t want to lie to you because you need me to say yes.”
“Of course.” I look toward the stairs. “Do you think I’m dangerous?”
“What? No.”
He answers too fast with too much shock. We both know it.
I look at the knife in its block six feet away, remembering how he moved it away from me instinctively. I press my lips together to hold in a sob.
Dalen speaks again, quieter. “Julie.”
“I need to go.”
“Go?” He sounds panicked. “Where?”
“A hotel.”
“I’ll come home.”
I sound a lot calmer than I feel. “I don’t want you to.”
He exhales but doesn’t say anything.
I walk toward the stairs.
“Julie, please.” His voice cracks. “Don’t leave the house alone at two in the morning.”
“I just had two police officers search it, but you already know no one’s here. It’s all in my head, right?” I don’t try to keep the bitterness from my voice.
“That’s not what I meant.”
“I know exactly what you meant.” Anger bleeds through. I reach the bedroom and pull a suitcase from the closet.
Dalen hears the zipper. “Please wait until morning.”
“I can’t sleep here.”
“Then I’ll get you a hotel.”
I stop packing, filled with anger. “No.”
“Julie, I can have security meet you and—”
“No.” I shove clothes into the suitcase. “You don’t need to handle me.”
He stops talking.
I wipe my face with the back of my hand. “You don’t get to call somebody, send somebody, book something, or decide where I’m safest.”
“Okay.” His voice is rough.
“I’ll handle it.”
“Okay.”
I throw toiletries into the side pocket.
Dalen stays on the line without speaking.
I don’t know why I haven’t hung up. Maybe because I’m furious with him. Maybe because somebody was downstairs and could have come back.
Maybe because I still love him enough to want his voice in my ear while I pack to leave him. I sit on the edge of the bed.
Dalen finally speaks. “Do you want me to stay on the phone?”
I stare at the suitcase on the floor. “Yes.”
“Okay.” That’s all he says. He stays with me while I finish packing and call a hotel myself. I don’t tell him which one. When he asks, I don’t answer.
He stays while I request a taxi and doesn’t offer another solution. He doesn’t ask me to reconsider.
When the taxi’s headlights turn into the driveway, I wheel my suitcase downstairs. “I’m leaving now.”
Dalen is quiet for a second. “Okay. I love you.”
I close my eyes. “I love you too.” My voice breaks, and I grip the suitcase handle harder. “That’s why this hurts so much.” I end the call and walk out of our house.