I felt paralyzed. What could I say? If I told him that I did, he would want to know why, and then they would find my room ransacked. But if I remained quiet, the officer might just go away… I shrugged. “I never called the police.”
My father pursed his lips and looked at the officer. “You must have gotten the address wrong, officer.”
“Of course I didn’t,” said the officer, reaching for the GPS unit in his car. “I have it written right on here. 7523 Mundrum Drive. Now, which one of you called the police station and why?”
I remained quiet. The officer did not look impressed. He reached back into his car for something. He reappeared with a recording device. “The operator who notified me of the emergency said that the caller mentioned a break-in, and a vandalized room.”
“Dempster?” my father said, his voice rising dangerously. “What happened here? I want you to tell me now.”
“Nothing happened here, and I didn’t call the police,” I repeated firmly.
“Then you wouldn’t mind me conducting a quick search of the house?” asked the officer. I froze. He would find my ransacked room if he did that.
“No, officer, I would not mind,” I said calmly, hiding my fear. “Come right in.”
Despite my best efforts to act innocently, I feared that the officer saw right through me. He began to trudge to the front door. “Officer,” I said as he walked up the front steps.
“Yes?” he asked.
“Take the back door, would you? The front door is locked from the outside.”
The officer looked annoyed, but he rounded the house and entered through the back door. I followed him step for step, desperately trying to think of a way to stop him from getting up to my room. But my mind could not produce a solution. And so I helplessly followed the officer through the house, my father anxiously trailing behind. He was not so calm under these kinds of circumstances.
In an orderly fashion that followed closely to the methods I had used in searching the house twice previously, the office cleared the first floor. As much as I tried to convince him to search the basement first, he refused. Hearing the dog barking and a gradually increasing thumping sound was enough to warrant his interest.
“You stay here,” said the officer, whipping out his handgun and holding it in front of himself as he ventured up the stairs.
“No,” I said firmly. “I’m coming up there too.”
The officer sighed. “Just stay out of my way,” he said. “And if there is somebody up there, I want you to scram. You hear?”
I nodded and followed him upstairs. I looked back at my father. He had decided to stay behind. I turned my back on him and reached the second floor landing.
“The hallway is clear,” said the officer. “Stay behind me while I search these room.”
He traveled slowly down the hallway turning his gun upon every small shadow and sinister-looking object. I vaguely heard Knarly barking at the wall, but the loud thumping of blood in my head blocked most of the world’s sound out.
“Everything up here is clear except for your room,” whispered the officer. “I want you to get into one of those rooms while I open the door. If somebody is in there, run downstairs and get yourself and your father out.”
I nodded, unsure of what the police officer would find in my room. I waited breathlessly while he slowly approached the door, gun pointing straight out. He reached a gloved hand to the door handle, hesitated for a split-second, and then burst open the door. He waved his gun madly around for a few seconds. Apparently there was nobody in the room. He beckoned for me to follow him without looking. I eagerly peered inside after the officer. What I saw shocked me.
“It’s all clear in here, son,” said the officer as he surveyed my clean and un-ransacked room. “Looks like a false alarm.”