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“No. I guess he…happened to be looking the other way.”
Again the sergeant wrote something in his notebook. “Anything else you remember?”
“He—he took our receipt from the table. It must’ve had my husband’s name on it. So maybe that’s how he found us?”
The sergeant tap-tapped on the arm of his chair. “When he broke in, didn’t you say he headed toward your room first?”
“Yes.”
“But you still think he was after your daughter.”
“Yes.”
His eyes narrowed. “It’s a pretty extreme thing, to assume he was after a little girl.”
“Is it? Ask the women you know what it was like being a little girl.”
A dark cloud passed over the sergeant. Faded.
“You don’t think that this man’s behavior at the restaurant could have been innocent? That you read into it?”
“I mean, I guess? But it was odd enough that it stuck with me.”
“I see,” he said, but his expression reminded her of her college ex-boyfriend, dubious over the way she saw the world.
“Not all men are good men,” she said.
“Right.” The sergeant nodded. “Fair enough. Was he wearing a mask when you saw him at the sandwich place?”
“Yes.”
“But you’re confident that the man you saw in your home and this café manager are the same person?”
“Yes.”
“One hundred percent?”
Why if someone asks you something enough times do you always start to doubt yourself? And of course you’re not one hundred percent sure.
“One hundred percent,” she lied. “And that’s why I want to make sure you’re looking after her, that he isn’t still—”
The sergeant held up a weary hand to interrupt her. Set his notebook aside. “Ma’am,” he said, “even with all you just said, what I told you stands. It’s not likely. A relative, an abusive spouse, a spurned partner—those are the people who keep pursuing their victims. But someone who breaks in? They don’t go back. They know they’d get caught. So please…believe me when I say your daughter is safe. You do not need to keep revisiting this.”
Just because it’s unlikely doesn’t mean it couldn’t happen. Everything you’ve just been through is unlikely.
“He was…frightening. And so I want to be sure she’s safe, that you’re watching, that—”
“We’re watching them, ma’am. She’s safe. They’re safe.”
The sergeant’s face was hard, allowing no room for questioning.
“Okay,” she said.
Of course they’re not safe. You have to get out of here.
“So. Why don’t we start with what time you went to sleep on the night of the break-in,” the sergeant said.
She closed her eye, leaned back.
