“What? No, he has a boyfriend,” I clarify, grabbing a cloth and heading to the tables to put the chairs down.
Cindy trails behind me. “Hold on. So, you’re into both cops, but one is your boyfriend, and the other is taken? I would’ve never guessed he’s gay.”
“He’s not,” I snap. “And I’m notintohim.”
Well, the urge to scratch her eyes out for calling him candy on a stick tells a different story.
“Oh, you’re in deep. You know, poly relationships are a thing now.”
“Cindy…” I sigh, “… stop that shit.”
“From innocent to wild, I’m here for it,” she teases.
I whirl around and toss the cloth at her, hitting her square in the face. “I think we talked enough for tonight.”
She pulls the cloth off, smirking. “Yes, ma’am. I can totally see you as theirDomina,” she jests, laughing as she moves to another table to clean it.
This is going to be such a fun night.
TWENTY-ONE
We’re standingin front of the apartment building where the witness, Rebecca Stone, lives. It bothers me that we’re only just getting back here now. Things have been so busy lately, with something new happening every day, especially in Harlem.
The Metro Milanesi gang is back in the neighborhood. I thought they had disappeared, but they seem to have just kept a low profile for the past few years.
The gang started in the Italian part of Harlem and was mainly known for robberies, assaults, and drug dealings in the area. They aren’t a major gang, but they used to have a lot of members and caused a lot of trouble for the locals.
One of our first assignments as rookies was responding to one of their robberies. I still remember the blood on the floor, thick and dark, starting to dry. They had shot the cashier of a local store five times and probably only got a hundred dollars for the effort. They’re brutal for the sake of being cruel. That scene haunted me for weeks, and even now, if I close my eyes and think about it, I swear I can still smell the nearly dried blood.
But today seems quiet, and we’re going to use this time to learn more about Carolina’s parents’ case. I can’t believe there’s even a case to begin with. Everything about it is so suspicious.
I understand why Carolina wants to know the truth. I never met her parents, but I want to know the truth too. I need to understand why my girl had to go through and what she’s been through. And if someone’s to blame for it, they need to be put behind bars.
We make our way up the stairs and stand in front of Rebecca’s door. Just as Josh is about to knock, it swings open, and a redhead steps out, almost bumping into Josh because she’s busy rummaging through the purse around her waist.
“Oh my God,” she exclaims, startled.
“Ms. Stone?” Josh asks.
“Yes,” she replies, standing up straight and smoothing her skirt with her hands. “How can I help you?”
“We’re here to ask you about the car crash you witnessed and reported five years ago, right outside this building. Can you remember the accident?” he asks.
She lets out a short laugh. “Remember it? I still have nightmares about it.”
I knit my brows together, puzzled. “Why?”
She glances down at her feet. “Because it was traumatic.”
“What made it so?” Josh probes.
“Can we discuss this while walking? I have an appointment to get to,” she says, moving past Josh.
“Absolutely, we can chat as we walk,” I assure her with a smile, which she returns with a faint one of her own.
“What do you want to know?” she asks. “I told the detective everything I saw that night, but I felt he wasn’t really listening.”
“That’s precisely why we’re here, Ms. Stone,” I share as we walk down the stairs. “We didn’t pay enough attention back then, but we’re listening now.”
