I don’t say shit, I let Dash, who is a natural storyteller, do that.
The SUV rollsinto the private parking entrance beneath the arena, and instead of heading toward the locker room, we’re steered down the tunnel toward the media floor.
Not ideal.
Dash whispers behind me, “This feels like the beginning of a true crime doc. ‘They were good men… mostly.’”
“Shut it,” I mutter.
Costello leads us into one of the player conference rooms — long table, water bottles lined up, projector off. The same room we do rookie seminars in. Except this time there are two NYPD detectives already waiting inside.
No uniforms. Plainclothes. Friendly enough faces, but sharp eyes that no doubt file away every detail, whether they want to or not.
They rise when we enter, hands in view, no tension. This isn’t adversarial. This is cleanup.
“Gentlemen,” the older one greets, a voice like he’s smoked since kindergarten. “Appreciate you taking time before practice.”
Dash plops into a chair like he’s auditioning for The Bachelor: Cop Edition. Koa sits solid, like a boulder that couldbreak a jaw just by existing near you. I take the end seat, back to the wall, watching.
The older detective looks at Dash. “Heard you gave quite a toast.”
Dash beams. “You follow the team?”
“My wife does,” the detective deadpans and looks at Koa. “She thinks your hair’s… nice.”
Koa snorts.
The younger detective turns to me. “Mr. Moretti, how’s the head?”
“Had worse at sixteen playing pond hockey.” Which is true. That ice was brutal, and I was stupid, just like last night.
He nods, impressed or amused or both. “We saw footage already. Just walking through it with you. Dingy threw the first punch?”
“Yes,” I answer. “And only because he thought being drunk made him bulletproof.”
“Did you strike him at any point?”
“I defended myself.”
Dash chimes in, “We were escorting civilian parties away from a hostile individual. Officer, you would've been proud?—”
Koa elbows him hard. Dash wheezes.
The detective looks at me again. “You pressing charges?”
My jaw ticks. This is where I should say yes. Dingy deserves it. But will the consequences hit more people than the guilty.
I need time to figure out how this could affect Claudia and that little cherub. “I’d like to see what the doctor says before making that decision.” Clear. Calm. Firm. Time bought.
The detective nods, reading between every line.
“Respectable,” he says. “Let us know.”
I nod.
He looks at Dash and Koa. “You boys did the right thing walking away.”
Dash cough-scoffs. Koa kicks him again.
