“Fiancée.” More serious than girlfriend. If the rumor spreads, men will likely avoid her for many years to come. Ithink she’d appreciate that. Too bad I’m included among those men. If I could reverse the time she spent with her ex, I would.
“We are very sorry and glad you paid her bail.”
No bail was set, so he’s asking for money. This police department is a damn tragedy. “You’re welcome. Anything else you need from me?”
“Well, we have many different topics to discuss. Do you prefer a briefing-style delivery or just the parts that you need to hear?”
“Briefing, because you can’t possibly know which parts I need to hear.”
The officers proceed to detail the situation in the city and assure me they’re handling the aftermath of my father’s demise. I get the impression they’re reporting to their boss. Because the government pays the cops so poorly, my dad’s bribes fed their families.
I almost feel sorry for them. Almost. But then I remember there’s not a single person at this table (aside from my brother) who wouldn’t shoot me if they knew they could get away with it. Not a single one.
When I look around the table, the cops appear comfortable, as if they’re visiting a friend. Connor poked and probed into Massio’s surveillance system, but this part of the house didn’t have cameras. I thought they might have come to serve me with a warrant or question me or even arrest me, but for all I know, they’ve come for the food and a debriefing, like they did the month before and the one before that.
The whole time the detectives are talking, I’m thinking about the corruption that runs deep inside their ranks and the poor folks like Dina, who spent years forced to vote the same officials into power over and over again. They changed nothing. Not that I’ll run for office, but anyone who worked for my dad will be replaced. Starting with these two-faced cunts at my table.
“Do either of you have any questions?” the detective asks.
Connor checked out ten minutes ago. He’s still eyeing the guy at the pool.
“How often do you deliver briefings?” I ask.
“Once a week. Usually on Mondays.”
“Is it always the four of you, or is it a rotation?”
“Usually, it’s just my partner and me.” He nods at the man next to him.
“But I’m his new partner, Mr. Crossbow,” the other cop says. “I took Detective Ramres’s post.”
I frown. “You say that as if I should know who that is.”
“She left her post after the incident with your fiancée.”
I shake my head. “The fact that I have to discipline one of your employees is baffling to me. Though maybe I shouldn’t be surprised since you’re here delivering a briefing to me as if I’m your boss. Which I am not. However, I appreciate the gesture. A question. Why did you come to me and not Ivan?”
They exchange glances, then stare at the table. Nobody answers. I’m not even sure why the two cops in uniform are here. For the show? The food? Security? “By all means, someone speak.”
When nobody does, Connor shouts at the man by the pool, “Hey, you. You want water in your lungs?”
The man turns. “No, thank you. I’m just waiting for you all to finish.”
“How very polite,” I mumble. “Are we finished?” I ask the detective who speaks for the group.
“There is a matter of the rifle,” he says.
“What rifle?”
He appears uncomfortable and swallows.
Connor laughs. “He’s messing with you all. Go on, tell us about the rifle.”
“What’s the matter with it?” I ask.
“Forensics lifted a partial fingerprint.”
“So?”
