When I walked upstairs my anger grew stronger. Someone had been inside my bedroom. The bed sheets were twisted and my closet door hung open. My jewelry box sat on the dresser with the lid lifted. My grandmother’s pearl necklace was gone.
The necklace had been the last gift she gave me before she passed away and I kept it safely in that box.
I called Lauren immediately. “My grandmother’s necklace is missing,” I said.
“That is ridiculous,” she replied. “Nobody stole anything.”
“It was here yesterday. Who went into my room.”
“I do not know. Maybe you misplaced it.”
I let out a cold laugh. “Either the necklace appears by tomorrow morning or I am filing a police report against everyone who stayed here.”
“You would not dare.”
“Watch me.”
Within an hour a sheriff’s deputy named Angela Walsh arrived and documented the damage throughout the house. When I explained about the missing necklace her expression became serious.
“Do you have photos of the item and a list of people who were here,” she asked.
“Yes,” I replied. “I have both.”