Never Truth

5

My excitement made the spring sky that much brighter and the dirty city street almost inviting. I skipped over to the Buick I had borrowed from my mom and slipped behind the wheel. My father liked for me and my sisters to use drivers in the city, but while I’d been at college, it hadn’t been necessary. No doubt that was already on his to-do list, but I would deal with it later. The traffic on my forty-five-minute drive up to the Columbia campus was far more tolerable than normal in my current mood. I found a decent parking spot and ran inside the old dorm to retrieve the first of my two remaining boxes. When I walked back to my car with the second box, a middle-aged man in aviator sunglasses and a thin leather jacket stood with his hip leaned against my car. I’d lived in New York my entire life and was decently equipped to handle your average oddball, but my steps still faltered at the sight of him. I wasn’t a fan of confrontation, and the man gave off an aggressive vibe that instantly had me on alert. “Excuse me,” I offered with a tight smile, hoping the man would step aside and allow me to get in my car without a scene. He slowly came off the car but stayed in my path, dropping his chin in acknowledgement. “Ma’am, my name is Detective James Breechner. You mind if I ask you a couple of questions?” I glanced around nervously, unsure what I was searching for—a parent, a witness, maybe a video camera to suggest this was a joke. Why did a cop want to question me? Had there been an issue at the dorm? I’d been so wrapped up in finals that World War III could have started, and I wouldn’t have known. Then I was slammed with the recollection of what had happened just the day before. My mom had called in the evening to tell me after the fact that my sister Alessia had been abducted. The entire incident had only lasted a matter of hours, and by the time I was informed, she had been located and safely returned home. I hadn’t had a chance to visit or even talk to her yet, so the entire event felt surreal. Mom said Alessia was doing well and explained away the incident as a random k********g. There wasn’t an ice cube’s chance in hell anything was random about the k********g. I didn’t know what exactly had happened; however, I couldn’t help but wonder if Alessia would have been safe had my parents not kept so many secrets from us. They were trying to protect us but keeping us in the dark only made us vulnerable. Whatever the actual cause was behind her k********g, I couldn’t imagine my father would have informed the police, but stranger things had been known to happen. It was within a distant realm of possibilities that the cop was investigating the incident, and I definitely wanted to do what I could to help if that was the case. “Um, sure,” I offered warily, realizing I had yet to reply. I slung the box over to my hip, so it was no longer between us and waited anxiously for his first question. “How well do you know Michael Garin?” he asked tonelessly, sending a tendril of unease ghosting down my spine. This wasn’t a random questioning about a dorm incident. The man had been looking for me but not because of my sister. “Michael? Why do you want to know about Michael?” I tried to act calm, but inside, my heart was pounding a relentless rhythm against my ribs. “Please, just answer the question.” I couldn’t see his eyes through the reflective sunglasses, but the weight of his stare was unyielding, leaving no doubt that he was taking in my every movement. “I’ve known him for years. We went to school together. Can you tell me what this is about?” “I’m not at liberty to say. Can you tell me about the nature of your relationship with Mr. Garin?” More and more alarm bells began to sound in my head. Did he have questions about Michael, or were his questions seeking information about me? How was my relationship with Michael relevant to whatever he was investigating? My parents might have tried to keep us girls blind to their mafia dealings, but they were always clear on one thing—never, ever talk to the police. Right or wrong, I was raised to believe that the cops would twist and contort anything you said and use it against you. My jaw clamped shut at the mental reminder, and I sucked in a cleansing breath through my nose. “If you have questions for me, I think it might be best if you spoke with my lawyer. Would you like his number?” Detective Breechner’s upper lip lifted slightly in a snarl. “Is that how we’re going to play this? All I’m trying to do is have a simple conversation,” he said through clenched teeth. “I’m not playing at anything. I think it’s in my best interest to remain silent, and I believe that’s my option. Now please, step away from my car.” I was relieved to hear my voice grow fortified with each word I spoke. He had shaken me at first with his unexpected request, but I’d eventually found my backbone. He watched me as I placed the box in the back seat. “This conversation isn’t over.” “It is for now,” I replied, reaching for the driver’s seat door and forcing him to step back farther as I opened the door and retreated inside my car. Pressing the ignition, I thanked God I didn’t have to fiddle with a key—my shaking hands could never have handled the task. Breechner crossed his arms over his chest and glared at me as I pulled away from the curb. I didn’t know what his deal was, but I certainly wasn’t sticking around to find out. I drove a few miles away until I was comfortable pulling over, then dived for my phone to text Michael.