Page 33 of After Midnight

After we returned to my car, I leaned over to him, expecting a hot and heavy good night kiss. Instead, our kiss was passionate and sweet. One of his hands cupped my cheek and I sort of melted inside. At twenty-one, I should probably crave hot and heavy, but what Ineededwas sweet and he seemed to know that.

After we made plans, we went our separate ways and for a brief moment, I forgot my troubles.

Unfortunately, I got home to the security guys waiting for me and my heart sank. “This can’t be good,” I said to myself as I got out of the car and approached them.

“Hi, guys,” I said as I walked up to where they were waiting on the front stoop. “Something up?”

The one closest to me nodded. “Yeah, you had a break-in tonight. Someone smashed the front door in, which alerted us. By the time we got here, the perp was gone, but we called the police. They checked the place out and took our statements. We tried calling you, but your phone went to voicemail.”

I’d silenced my phone before the movie began, which meant the break-in must’ve happened after midnight. My mind ran through all the worst-case scenarios, making my legs weak and my palms sweat. “Any idea who it was?” I asked in a shaky voice.

They shook their heads at the same time. “No, and we didn’t get good video coverage. The perp wore a hoodie and nondescript clothes, but we’re fairly certain it was a man. We were here in minutes, so he didn’t have time to take much.”

“How long do you think he was inside?” I asked.

“Five minutes at most.”

I sighed, feeling slightly relieved. “He could’ve taken a lot in five minutes. Can you two stay here for a moment while I go look around for what’s missing?”

They nodded and I stepped inside. Nothing seemed out of place in the main living area, but my instincts drew me to Margarette’s old room.

The place had been turned upside down. It looked like a tornado had hit it. Her dresser drawers were pulled out, clothes scattered everywhere. The bed had been knocked off its frame, and the mattress had been knifed open.

Looking at it closely, I could see the slice had been made where someone, presumably Margarette, had cut it open and restitched it before.

“I wonder what was in there?” I asked out loud to no one, and when I went back outside, I asked the security guys if the cops had been in Margarette’s room.

“No, they just checked the main living area and the perimeter.”

“If you don’t mind, can you call and ask them to come back out? Someone tossed my stepmother’s bedroom.” I had no idea what to think about that. Did someone else hate her as much as me? What could she have been hiding from everyone?

They nodded, and a few minutes later, the cops returned. When I showed them the room, they asked me what I’d touched, and I relayed I’d only walked up to the bed and looked before coming back out.

The cops took pictures and asked me who I thought had done this, and I admitted my first inclination would be to blame Margarette, but since her room was the one tossed, I was clueless.

“The truth is, I don’t really know what my stepmother does or who she knows or associates with. She was seldom around when she resided here, and even then usually kept to her room. The girls and I never go in there.”

My gut told me whoever had done this wasn’t friends with Margarette, and whatever they found was likely to give her a lot more grief than it would me. The thought made me feel strangelyhappy, if not hopeful. Did that make me a bad person? Did I care?

I didn’t feel too concerned about my own safety, so after the police had taken our statements and left, I sent the security detail on their way. They had helped secure the front door, which I’d need repaired, and I asked them to continue the same level of surveillance, but I didn’t need anyone here full-time.

I awoke to the Darth Vader ringtone that I’d downloaded for calls from Margarette. I ignored it and her repeated attempts until I finally decided that unless I answered, she was going to continue to harass me.

I opened up the two-way call recording app on my phone and when I was sure it was recording, I answered.

“Margarette, you’re not supposed to be calling…”

“What have you done?!” she screeched. She was so loud, I had to hold the phone away from my ear for a second.

“What are you talking about?” I asked, genuinely perplexed.

“You will pay, you idiot. I’ll make you pay!”

She hung up on me, and I said the date, time, and our full names aloud before ending the recording. I then emailed it to Mr. Langdon.

Her threat worried me, particularly coming on the heels of last night’s break-in, but there wasn’t much I could do about it. So, I just chalked it up to another crazy Margarette thing and went downstairs to meet Miss Rita.

When I told her what happened, she looked uneasy but I knew that was just out of concern for me. “At least no one was home, and my gut tells me that was deliberate timing,” I reassured her. “I can tell you this much, whoever was here isn’t a friend of Margarette. So, no need to worry. The enemy of my enemy is my friend, isn’t that how the old saying goes?”

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