Chapter 5 - THE WATCHI asked about the watch.
Maya’s face changed.
“Julian took it from the safe.”
“When?”
“Last month.”
“How?”
“Your mother knew the code.”
Of course.
Years earlier, after our father died, I gave Victoria the code for emergencies.
I never changed it.
“What else is missing?”
Maya looked away.
“Some cash.”
“How much?”
“Maybe twelve thousand.”
“Jewelry?”
“My grandmother’s earrings.”
I stopped breathing.
“Victoria?”
“I don’t know who.”
That answer mattered.
No upgrading suspicion.
“Anything else?”
“Your service pistol wasn’t there.”
My body went cold.
I kept one privately owned handgun in the safe, properly stored.
“Where is it?”
“I don’t know.”
My first instinct was catastrophic.
Weapon.
Julian.
Confrontation downstairs.
Maya saw my face.
“Daniel.”
“I need to call someone.”
“Who?”
“Not them.”
I contacted base security liaison first because of the missing firearm and my active-duty status.
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Then local police non-emergency, requesting guidance without announcing accusations to the people downstairs.
That decision probably prevented the night from becoming much worse.
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