I hung up the phone and sat in my chair. Through the window, I watched the clouds pass over the moon. I thought about what I was going to say when the police came.
I heard movement in the kitchen. They couldn't be here already. I sat still and waited. Footsteps came towards me.
"Hey there, old man," a voice called. He came around to face me and his skinny frame blocked the moonlight. His gun aimed at my chest. I could see it was fake, but held my face in fear, anyway.
"This is going to be simple, okay? I'm taking what I want and leaving you alive, as long as you play nice. Are you alone?"
I nodded cautiously. Something clicked in my head. Maybe turning myself in wasn't in the cards, after all.
"Now. It'll be a lot faster if you tell me where I should look."
"In the bedroom," I told him, trying to stifle laughter rising from my chest. He grinned, then reached for the phone, ripping the cord from the wall.
"Good," he said. "You stay here and I'll be out of your hair in no time." He walked down the hall and I stood up. When I heard his cries and wretching, I climbed out the window.
A police car passed me on the road a minute later. I figured when they got there, he would still be vomiting over the mess I left of her in the bedroom.