Page 77 of PSYCHOlogical

Chapter Thirty-Two

Val

With my eyes fixed on the security monitor, I nervously paced the kitchen floor. The screen flashed from one zone to the next, each providing an alternate view—and peace of mind—that the yard was free of any intruders. Then, the screen went dark.

I scrambled to the counter and switched to the next zone.

Dark.

I frantically flipped through each zone, only to find them dark. My heart sank. I expected Vincent may have turned off the lights, but my level of comfort plummeted, nevertheless. I couldn’t help but wonder if it was exactly what an intruder might want.

A completely dark environment to operate in.

Clutching the pistol as if it were my only salvation, I flipped the screen from zone to zone, hoping to catch a glimpse of something—anything—that would provide me with some reassurance that everything was going to be okay.

Each of the available screens was pitch-black.

My heart sank. A moment later, while I waited anxiously to find out what was going on, my phone pinged. Hoping to see a text from Vincent, I rushed to the counter and snatched it up.

A text message from my neighbor, Jack, was illuminated on the screen. I unlocked the phone and read the message.

There were men ransacking your home. I followed them here. I’m outside now

Wondering what the fuck was going on, I quickly typed my response and pressed send.

Outside where?

His reply was immediate.

Right off Ebenezer Church Road. I’m at the back door. Let me in. They’re coming.

Men ransacking my home? The only thing that I could think anyone might be trying to find would be the information I took from New Dawn.

The original SD card wasn’t at my home, but if men were coming there in hope of finding it, it meant someone said something. There were only two someone’s that knew anything.

Vince and Jack.

My mind raced.

Vincent encouraged me to gather the information. After I obtained it, I copied it to a flash drive. I gave the flash drive to Jack. Vincent kept the original SD card.

Vincent wouldn’t tell men to ransack my home in search of a card that he had possession of.

Jack was a freelance beer-drinking architect that knew no one other than Jordan.

I trusted Vincent. I doubted my instinct was wrong in that regard. Jack was nosey, but he was harmless, I was sure of it.

I typed another message.

You’re outside right now?

I’m at the back door, he replied. Hurry, they’re out here, somewhere…

I went to the back door, reached for the handle, and paused. The door was solid wood and fitted with a peephole similar to most front doors. I pressed my eye against it.

Blackness stared back at me.

With reluctance, I opened the door with my left hand while pointing the pistol through the opening. The alarm chirped once, giving indication a door had been opened.