Page 39 of Wicked Truths

I lean my head forward on the steering wheel and close my eyes. I wish I could tell her everything and get her to understand. I wish I could go back two years ago and not let her walk away.

The back door to the truck opens, and Francesca places her groceries on the backseat before climbing into the passenger seat.

She’s quiet. Almost too quiet, like she only heard me tell her to stop asking questions, and not the part where I confessed to being celibate for the past two years.

I let out a deep sigh and glance her way. “For two years, I’ve been waiting for you to let me in, Chessie.”

She folds her hands on her lap, but doesn’t speak.

“Chess, why did you leave? Tell me the real reason. Not the one you’ve had to convince yourself was the truth.”

When she doesn’t speak, I drive back towards the apartment, but turn in the opposite direction at the last second towards the diner where we had our first date.

“Do you know about my family?” Her voice comes out as a whisper, as if this conversation is forbidden.

Maybe it is in a way.

I keep my eyes on the road. “What about them?”

“The mafia?” She whispers the word like it’s a secret.

Glancing toward her, I say, “Of course I do.”

Her eyes widen, and her mouth cracks open. “You do? You know about my family?”

I pull into a parking lot off the side of the road and park in the closest parking spot.

Turning to look at her, I say, “Everyone knows about your family. It’s kind of hard not to know at least something about Arturo Marino. Hell, it’s been plastered on the front page of every newspaper around. Personally, I think it’s tactless.”

She gasps and glares at me. “What’s tactless? The mafia or my family?”

“Neither. I was referring to the newspaper posting about your father’s past and the tragic death of hiswife. Your mom. It’s tasteless and not relevant to him buying the hockey team.”

But it is.

All of it is relevant to the Marino business. I just don’t think Chessie knows the full extent of things yet, and I’m partially to blame.

Police lights shine through the back windows, illuminating the darkening sky around us.

Chessie glances out of the back window before turning her attention on me. “Are we doing anything illegal?”

“No. It’s not illegal to be parked in a parking lot.” I turn the two-way dash camera on and roll down my window as the police officer walks up to my door.

“Good evening.” He leans closer to the window and inhales.

I guess he’s trying to smell drugs or alcohol, but he won’t find any in my truck. Arturo, Coach, and the entire team would kick my ass if I got arrested for DUI or DWI.

I turn to look out my window. This isn’t an officer that I’ve had any interaction with before, and I’ve met almost all of them, given my line of work.

Is he new? Did he transfer in? Does he know about things?

“Is there a problem, Officer?”

He narrows his gaze on me. “Is there a reason you are parked here this late at night in the middle of the week?”

I glance around at several other cars parked in the same parking lot.

He’s targeting me, but why? What does he know about me?

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