Page 28 of Unlawful Lies

These cops won’t break me.

The lawyers will have me out in a few hours because no matter what evidence they claim ties me to the scene, it’s bogus. A ploy to take us down while we’re weak.

Someone leaked the death to the media.

My mind spins in useless circles as my gut churns and their questions buzz in my ears like a swarm of angry bees. This kind of thing isn’t unusual. Witnesses can place my brother at his party, the young one tells me, while my mother is too frail to leave the house for too long.

It leaves me with motive and with means, they assure me. Even Mary couldn’t assure them I’d been home all night with her. She’d confined herself to her room with the door locked.

They’re blind. They’re looking in the wrong direction and too hungry for a high-profile case to listen to reason, so I supply nothing. Not a word while the wheels churn behind the scenes.

Should I have expected this? Yes. Mental berating is the only constant through the interrogation. Because I’m so stupid, it hurts. I trusted Edward when he said he had it handled and what did he do the first chance he got?

He ran to the cops to point his finger at me.

It makes sense.

He’d know exactly where to strike and when. The opportunity practically fell in his lap. I’d handed him the key to the Salvatore downfall.

Gio Balestra must be dancing the tarantella.

There’s always a spotlight on families like ours. Just like there is always someone holding the purse strings of the cops who bob along and play their parts. Good little marionettes. True to form, my father’s lawyer gets me out of things in a matter of hours.

In the back of the car, I scrub my wrists and the dark red lines from too much pressure.

“Are you all right, Miss Salvatore?” the driver asks.

Our lawyer, a tall man with pinched features and a slightly hitched stride, fixes him with a glare of reprimand before pressing the button to raise the partition between the back of the car and the front.

“There are a few things we need to go over together,” Mr. Cunningham begins. His suit is buttoned up to his pointed chin, and it’s vastly appropriate for him to resemble a crypt keeper.

There is no compassion in the mafia.

One of the first lessons taught from the time you’re able to walk, even for the children who will never be more than pawns, who will never lead.

“There has been a storm of press and media attention already.” He cuts to the chase. “Along with this.”

From his briefcase, he draws out a set of photographs along with what looks like a typed-out statement.

My numb finger grips the edge of the photograph. The image hasn’t been doctored in any way I can see. “My mother should be here for our meeting.”

Mr. Cunningham adjusts his seat, one leg balanced over the opposite knee. “Your mother is in hysterics, and your brother has decided to flee rather than deal with the consequences of this. Which leaves you, Miss Salvatore. Only you.”

I shake my head vehemently. The image blurs, but I see it clearly enough because I lived it. It’s a still shot of me staring down at the back of the car the other night when Edward brought my father’s body home.

I’m alone, the top of Dad’s head visible in the shot, but Edward is nowhere to be found. Blackmail. I’m not so stupid to categorize it as anything else.

“I’d feel more comfortable if Mom were here,” I insist.

Hysterics? The woman is prone to them, of course, but Cunningham is wrong. I’m not the right person for him to deal with. I’m the target. I’m the person Daddy moved around on the gameboard, one of his pieces, in order to expand his empire, and I’d failed.

“We’re talking about blackmail here, Miss Salvatore. It’s the sort of thing your father has dealt with before, but now the attention has transferred to you. There is a reason the police chose to target you in this matter.”

I slowly suck in a breath and hold it to the count of six before releasing it in a slow hiss. “I had nothing to do with his death. I wasn’t there when it happened.”

“Of course you didn’t. However, this type of press will create a problem for you and your family, and in the melee, others will attempt to step up.”

“Such as?” I snap.

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