Page 65 of Choices

Fuck. I think I'm in love.

Chapter twenty-five

Hannah

The doorbell rings and I answer it to find two men standing on my stoop. One in a cheap black suit and one in a black police uniform.

I go to slam the door shut again, but Suit holds it open with his fist. I'm pretty sure that's breaking and entering. Trespassing at the very least.

"Can I help you?" I say, finally, crossing my arms in front of my chest.

"Mrs. Greenwich?"

"Yes?"

"I'm Slater with the FBI, and this is Officer Johnson. We have some questions for you about some friends of yours. Would you be willing to come down to the FBI HQ, Hoover?"

"Am I under arrest?"

I can tell the suit is getting frustrated with my lack of cooperation. Good.

"No, ma'am. We just have some questions for you and we'd like to get the answers on record."

I'm sure this is about Rico and the boys. I look at the cop, who is standing slightly behind Suit, and who mouthsI'm a friend.

I nod. "Fine, but we're going to the police department, not Hoover, and I'm driving myself there so I can leave whenever I need to to get my kids from school."

"Of course," Suit bites out sarcastically.

Twentyminutes later, I sit on the hard, cheap, plastic office chair in a small ten-by-ten room, irritably. My arms are crossed in front of me, my legs are crossed at the knee.

I don't have time for this bullshit.

“I’ll be recording this conversation as witness evidence so everything you say today can be used in court. Do you understand and agree?” The FBI agent starts. He leans forward, his elbows on the table.

Johnson leans backward against his chair so he's slightly behind the suit. His hand is curled in a fist underneath the side of his jaw, but he slowly slides one finger out and drags it down his throat. It's the American Sign Language sign for thirsty but from his angle Suit can’t see it.

“Yes, but do you think I could get a cup of water first please?” I asked the FBI agent. He nods curtly.

"Johnson, go get her some water."

I can tell Johnson's frustrated at his failed attempt to get us alone, but the FBI holds rank over local PD.

Johnson leaves and Suit takes the opportunity to lean forward and turn off the recording device.

"I know you're in on it, and you're a loyal bitch, but one of you is going to screw up and I'm going to dance all the way to Hoover with the four of you in handcuffs."

Before I can reply or object, Johnson comes back with the water and Suit turns the recording device back on.

So the man wants to play dirty. Fine.

“Thank you,” I say thinly, taking the cup and drinking the water.

“Are you readyto begin?” Suit asks. Johnson leans back in his chair, arms crossed, face neutral.

“Do you know a Rico Garcia?”

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