Emily followed the others past the Hardys’ living quarters, through the back door, and out onto the porch. Helen raced along, pointing to a grey metal box attached to the exterior wall. The group crowded around, bustling against each other as they strained to see. A gap opened up and Emily squeezed into it. From where she now stood, she could see the wiring inside the box protruding like spindly fingers.
Panicked voices filled the air.
“Whoever broke into the office must have cut the line to stop us from getting help,” Helen said. “Or to at least buy them more time to make a break for it.”
Daniel waded through the bodies until he stood beside Emily. “Wouldn’t that suggest the thief is an outsider? And that he’s now long gone with our belongings.”
“Not necessarily. Perhaps the thief is right here, waiting for the right opportunity to grab their stash and run.”
Each person in the group turned and eyed the others.
“Well if it’s one of us, we need to find out who,” Janelle said, her calm demeanour all but gone. “I have places to be on Monday. I can’t be stuck here, waiting for a replacement car key.”
Murmurs of agreement rippled through the group. Helen held up a hand. “The question is, how do we go about uncovering the thief’s identity?”
“That’s easy,” Ben said, pushing his way to the front. Sylvia followed after him. “We do like I said. We search everyone’s rooms.”
“Absolutely not.” Heads turned towards Pamela, who had moved away from the group in a clear attempt to re-establish her position as leader. Her eyes moved from face to face. “I understand your concern and I sympathise with you all, but I will not have you ransacking through my house like Vikings. When Sergeant Wells gets here, whoever stole your belongings will answer to him.”
“But when will he get here, Pamela?” Helen said. Heads swivelled back to her. “The police should have been here ages ago. Meanwhile, a thief is about to get away with our belongings and poor Oscar is still out there hanging from a tree.”
At the mention of Oscar’s name, silence fell over the group. Emily felt fingers squeeze her arm. Jerome’s worried face peered down at her.
“I don’t like this,” he whispered. “It’s getting out of hand.”
Emily could only agree. Suspicions had already been running high, but the discovery of the sabotaged phone line and now the idea that there was a thief among them only served to feed the group’s paranoia. How long would it be before they descended into mob mentality?
“We form a search party and go room to room,” Ben said. “If no one has anything to hide, there’ll be nothing to find. At least that way we’ll know who we can trust.”
“Good idea,” Helen said. “But everyone needs to agree.”
“And what if we don’t?” Daniel asked.
“Well, I guess Sergeant Wells will know who to call on first when he arrives.”
“You can’t do this,” Pamela said, thrusting a hand on her hip. “It’s unethical and I won’t allow it.”
Helen smiled. “What if we have everyone’s permission? You all want to get out of here, right? The quicker we find the thief, the quicker we find our car keys. Let’s see a show of hands.”
Ben, Sylvia, and Helen raised their hands immediately, followed by Janelle.
“What about the rest of you?” Helen stared at Jerome. “Do you give permission for your rooms to be searched?”
“Only if you promise to make my bed while you’re in there,” Jerome said.
“How about you, Emily?”
The idea of strangers rifling through her belongings left Emily feeling deeply uncomfortable, but she had a feeling that it was about to happen whether or not she gave permission. Besides, she didn’t want to give Helen any cause to start asking personal questions that would lead to her name appearing in newspapers again.
Reluctantly, she nodded.
Helen turned to Melody. “What about you?”
“No.” Melody’s body seemed to shrink in on itself like a punctured balloon. “It's my private space. I don’t want you going in there.”
“It’ll be all over in two minutes,” Sylvia said, taking a step towards her. “If you have nothing to hide, then there’s nothing to worry about.”
“No! It’s my room, my space. You’re not allowed to violate it.”
“I think perhaps Melody and I will join that search party,” Jerome said, moving up beside her. “Someone needs to make sure everything’s above board.”
“Me too.” Daniel shot a challenging glare at Ben.
Helen’s eyes moved to Pamela. “The more the merrier. We’ll just search the guest rooms for now.”
Before Pamela could reply, the group began to disperse.
“Are you coming?” Jerome waited for Emily as the others headed back towards the house.
Emily remained where she was, a tight knot of anxiety twisting her stomach. She had no interest in rummaging through people’s personal belongings, and now that Jerome would be there to oversee the search, she at least knew it would be conducted with both sensitivity and military-like precision.
Shaking her head, she watched him disappear inside the house. Only Pamela and Sam remained. Both were silent and unmoving.
“A few stolen phones and people are up in arms,” Emily said. “A stranger hangs himself and no one wants to know.”
Pamela nodded, slowly and deliberately. The air felt thick with trouble. “You’ve just summed up everything that’s wrong with modern society.”