Heading downstairs the next morning, I bump into dad coming out of the kitchen. He has enormous dark circles under his eyes.
“Are you alright, dad?”
“Hmm? Oh, yes, I’m fine. I’ve just been on the phone to the police. No-one was apprehended last night, but they’re hopeful the DNA tests will come back with a match.”
“Somehow, I don’t think it will be anyone they know about,” I say, absently stroking one of the cats. “And I also get the feeling there were two people instead of one.”
“Oh, what gave you that idea?” he asks.
“Well, the back door was open, and the bathroom window was broken. It feels like two escape exits to me; one for each person,” I say, trying to make it sound like a general observation. “Besides, it would be hard for one person to lock all the dogs in the cupboard.”
“S
