She Belongs to Me (Rewritten Version)

Chapter Eighteen

Vincent:

The wind blew through my hair as I drove down the road with my window open, singing along to the rock ballad that played on the radio without a care in the world.  Sure, I wanted a little more time to prepare for the police, but I wasn't a bit worried about my decision to let them come now.

There would be no trace of Emily to be found when we arrived.  She was still locked in the closet, along with her clothes and purse.  The dishes from dinner last night were already washed and put away, so they would have no idea it even occurred.

Thanks to my asshole father being a police officer while he was still alive, I knew a thing or two about the law.  They wouldn't be able to search my entire house without my consent, unless they were able to get a warrant, which was highly unlikely now.

But I planned to let them search every inch of my home, until they grew weary and gave up.  The closet was well hidden behind a huge stack of boxes and racks of old clothes.  They wouldn't think to look beyond that, I was certain of if.

When we arrived at my house, I stepped out of the car and welcome them inside. The pretty detective looked at me and said, "Just for the record, you're giving us consent to search everywhere, correct?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Do you have any dogs we should know about?"

"No, just a cat."

"Alright, we'll get started." She glanced over at her partner and whispered something in his ear, then looked back at me. "This shouldn't take us long."

"Take your time, detectives. I want to make sure everyone understands that I had nothing to do with her disappearance."

"Yeah, I'll bet," Johnson muttered before walking to the back of the house.

They began their search in my bedroom, then worked their way to the guest rooms and the bathrooms. I could hear them opening every door and shoving aside everything they thought would hide an abduction victim; clothes in the closets, shower curtains, bookshelves, and even rugs. 

They were as thorough as I had anticipated, which was exactly what I wanted. They would have to rule me out as a suspect once they were done, then Emily and I could move on from these minor unpleasantries and get back to the task of falling even more in love with each other.

"Vincent," Detective Frost called from one of the bathrooms. "Would you mind coming in here?"

"Not at all."

I ran in there to see what she wanted, faltering when I noticed her eyes on the wall where the mirror used to be. "What the hell happened here?" She asked, running her hand over the sheet rock.

"The mirror that was there when I bought this place was a piece of shit, if you'll pardon my language. I was planning to replace it soon."

"Uh-huh," She said, looking inside the bathroom closet. "And do you always make it a point to wear turtle neck sweaters in seventy degree weather?"

Damn. 

I should have known that would arouse suspicion. 

But I had no other way to cover the scratches on my neck, and if her parents had seen them, I was done.

"What do my fashion tastes have to do with this?"  I asked, trying to seem more relaxed than I was.

She closed the closet door and shrugged.  "I was just curious."

Lying bitch. She knew why she was asking.

I smiled. "Do you need anything else from me?"

"No, not right now."