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.”
And for the first time since this entire mess began I felt completely certain that the people who thought they could treat me like I did not matter were finally about to learn exactly how wrong they were.
