The nurse shot me a look, “Not until the doctor says it’s alright.”
I glared at her, “Someone tried to kill me. I’m not waiting to talk to the police.” I turned to my mother, “Get them.”
The nurse started to argue again but something in my expression must have warned her that I was not going to give in. She shook her head and left the room.
“They posted a guard outside,” my mother said. “I’ll go talk to him.”
Twenty minutes later, a man I pegged to be in his thirties with a short, military style haircut entered my room. “I’m Detective Briggs, Ms. Lyons,” he said as he extended his hand.
My palm was crushed by his grip and I had to hide a wince of pain. “Someone broke into my house and tried to kill me.”
“Can you tell me exactly what happened?” he asked.
I told him how I’d awoken to the sound of breaking glass and then how someone had grabbed and then tripped me.
“Did you see the person?” he asked.
I shook my head, “No, it all happened too quickly.”
“There are a few inconsistencies,” he remarked.
“Inconsistencies? Like what?” I asked in confusion.
He stared at me for a moment. “We couldn’t find any broken glass in the home or any signs of forced entry.”
“What?” I exclaimed loudly. “I know what I heard.”
He arched an eyebrow, “You were asleep when you first heard the sounds, correct?”
“Could it be possible that you were dreaming?” he asked.
“No! The sounds woke me up.” I glared at him, “I hardly dreamt someone shoving me down the stairs.”
“I’m not saying you did,” he quickly retreated. “But if they did break something, they must have cleaned it up. We found a wrought iron lamp base lying at the bottom of the stairs but it sounds like it was what you carried down the stairs yourself. Once you’re released, we’ll need you to make a list of anything missing.”
“Okay,” I said, my anger evaporating.
My mother interjected, “She may be here a few days. If you need a list right away, I can look through the house for anything obvious that is missing.”
Detective Briggs agreed to that and then assured me they would catch the perpetrators.
“What about protecting her?” my mother asked shortly. “Will you be sending an officer to stay with her once she’s released?”
Detective Briggs shook his head, “No, I’m sorry ma’am. We just don’t have the resources to do that.”
My mother’s eyes lit up with fury, “Her husband and son have been kidnapped, and now someone is after her, too. You have to do something.”
Detective Briggs looked sympathetic but said, “I’m sorry, we just can’t offer around the clock protection. I noticed you didn’t have an alarm system. You should probably get one right away.” With that, he said a hasty goodbye and left the room.
My mother looked as if she would have liked to slap his face. “Alarm system,” she muttered under her breath. “You’re staying with me and your father until they catch whoever is responsible for this.”
I didn’t argue with her at the moment. I was not going to stay with them. Everyone around me was in danger. I wouldn’t jeopardize them as well. I was determined now more than ever to find out why my family was being targeted. I had to get my son and husband back. There was something they had needed from my house, or they had finally returned to take me. Either way, I was no longer going to be an easy mark. If they came calling again, they would find me ready and waiting.”