Other times Danny is still alive when I get there, as he tries to tell me something. But that gaping wound in the center of his forehead makes it impossible for me to concentrate on his words. Most of the time, however, the scene plays out just like it did in real life.
I take a moment to collect myself. “It’s just a dream. It’s just a dream,” I say out loud until my heart rate slows and I can focus once again. For the thousandth time, I wish I wasn’t the one who found my brother.
When I check the bedside clock, it says it’s four in the morning. I let out a sigh. It’s too early to get up, but too late to go back to bed. After a nightmare like that, I know that all I’m going to do is stare at the ceiling in the dark and see Danny’s body repeatedly. I can’t handle that.
I get up, walk to the bathroom, and brush my teeth. I comb my hair and get dressed. Nothing fancy, just a fresh pair of jeans and a T-shirt. A change of clothes signals to my frightened mind that I’m not trying to sleep anymore. The day has begun and I don’t have to worry about reliving the worst day of my life for at least sixteen or seventeen hours.
I leave my bedroom and close the door, another signal to myself that I’m putting the dream behind me. I pour myself a cup of coffee and open my laptop. It’s too early to go for a jog, and I’ve got at least two hours to go before the stores open up. It’s the perfect time to get some work done.
I check my email, but nobody has been in touch. With determination, I open the folder labeledDannyon my desktopand sort through the contents. I know Danny was working on a story when he died. He didn’t tell me much about it, but he was sure it would bring certain people to justice. Even though the police were convinced it was a suicide, I know better. He was working on something big, and that’s what got him killed. Someone didn’t want their secrets revealed, and they weren’t above committing murder to keep him quiet.
I just need to find out what the story was. What did he know, or what was he close to discovering that caused someone to react that way? If I can just trace his line of reasoning, follow up with the clues he collected, maybe I could finally bring his killer to justice.
I’m close. I’ve followed up on sources of my own and studied all the files I can find that he was working on. I think it was the Corellos, as the Andrettis have been mostly driven out by them. As far as I can tell, the Corellos have several legitimate businesses and connections with many of the most powerful people in the city.
They aren’t as well known as the Gottis or the Gambinos, but that’s an advantage for them. The fewer people who know about what they’re really up to, the better. But that’s where I come in. If I can expose Francisco Corello and his family, get close to his son Frankie, who’s my age, maybe I can get some closure.
When I started searching for answers, I wasn’t sure the Corellos were responsible. But the more I look into their past dealings, the more confident I become. It has to be them. Danny was working on a story that would have painted them in a negative light, and they killed him over it. Of course, the name “Corello” isn’t anywhere in Danny’s notes. That’s why I have to keep searching. I need to make that connection between a bunch ofvague assumptions and actual documents that prove their guilt beyond a shadow of a doubt.
I’m almost there. I’m so close I can taste it. Maybe if I can bring Francisco Corello to justice, I’ll finally be able to sleep again. I can only hope that’s how it will play out because I’m exhausted. The times when I don’t dream are few and far between.
My life has suffered. I don’t see my friends very much anymore. I don’t talk to my parents very often either. There doesn’t seem to be much to talk about with such an enormous elephant in the room. I just hope I can track down enough evidence to prove that the Corellos had my brother killed. After that, when the smoke clears, maybe I can mend some of my broken relationships.
I have a one-track mind nowadays. I continue working on the problem until the sun comes up, then I force myself to take a break. It’s not easy. The Corellos have done a great job covering their tracks. But I don’t care how long it takes me—I will bring them down.
CHAPTER 3
FRANKIE
Iwad up a piece of paper and toss it in the trash. I’m bored. There are a thousand different codes and laws that I’m supposed to know. All the study apps and websites are full of hypothetical situations that make me want to tear my eyeballs out.
It’s tons of screens full of this type of question:
Defendant Max entered a post office. At gunpoint, he robbed the postal clerk of all the money orders, stamps, and cash that were behind the counter. After Max took the property, he got into a rented car and drove away.
Between twenty-five and forty minutes after the robbery, an employee of the car rental agency arrived, took possession of the car, and gave the officer permission to search it. Because of the search, a white envelope containing the stolen money orders was seized. Max was placed under arrest.
Were the police acting within the law when they searched the car? Cite precedents and legal statutes pertaining to this case.
I’ve been working on this stuff for days. By the time I work my way through one question, check all my sources and then check the answer code to make sure I’m on the right track, at least an hour has gone by.
Sometimes Marlena works with me. We sit in the living room in my suite, or in hers, or sometimes downstairs in the den or on the back porch. I’ll read one question aloud and then we’ll start researching.
“You got this,” she’ll say.
“You’ll pass,” my father will echo Marlena’s as he walks by toward his office.
I glance up, not sure if he’s being supportive or if he knows something. It’s entirely possible that he’s thinking about bribing someone to make sure I pass. I know he won’t admit it even if I press the matter, so I just stay quiet. I hope that’s not the case. As difficult as all this is, I want to pass on my own.
I think I can do it. I’m getting better. When I first started, that question would have taken me a full day. Now I can get through five or six questions a day. That’s progress.
I just hope it’s good enough. When I’m not working on hypothetical questions, I’ve got my law books open reviewing past cases. I need to be familiar enough with the totality of case law that when I’m in the exam, I can answer questions much faster.
My life has become one big study session. Sometimes I take breaks to eat or to hang out with friends, but mostly, I’m holed up somewhere studying. At the moment, I’m in my room alone.
The paper on my desk comes from a bright yellow legal pad. I have written nothing on it, but it seems like a prerequisite for my chosen career. I’ve got my laptop open and the third question of the day is staring at me through the screen. I’m just not feeling it, so I fidget.
I press my eyes shut. I’m getting nowhere. I need to get out of the house. One thing I do to jumpstart my concentration is to change my physical location. If I can’t study at home, I’ll go to a coffee shop. If I can’t study there, I’ll go to the library.
