He tore the room apart.  He knew it was there, he'd just seen it yesterday, she had over 200 dollars in it..  He stopped and sat for a minute wiping his forehead with his sleeve. 
He didn't know if he should feel insulted or amused.  He was her brother and she should have trust in him.

He surveyed the room, where hadn't he looked, let's see, the toilet, did that.. under the matresses, did that..  under the pillows of the couch, did that, he'd even turned the thing over.

He'd torn the kitchen apart, there were pots and pans all over the floor, he had accidentally broken a couple of plates.. It was no better than she deserved, imagine your sister not trusting you.  Finally he glanced up at the ceiling light, one side hung a little lower than the other.  He laughed.. that was rich.  In the ceiling light.

He went to the utility closet and pulled out the little step ladder that she kept there.  He placed it under the light and steppd up..  He grasped it with his finger tips.  "Ahh there you are you little darlin."  He took it to the couch and sat it on the coffee table..

He was starting to shake, his stomach turned over, he held it back all he needed was the money and he could get his drugs.  He took off the lid and stuck his hand inside..  If someone had been there to see his face, it might have been comical but, nothing was funny to him.. he needed the money. 

Screaming, he turned the cookie jar over and over as if the money would appear..  He grimaced as another wave of nausea gripped him,  heading to the bathroom, he threw the cookies on the floor.

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