Page 21 of The Art of You

“Go for it.” Dad’s attitude wasn’t lost on me, even if the drugs were still kicking around in my system, just not as strong as they were before.

Facing me again, Constantine began, “Last night, when I tried to get ahold of you, your phone kept going to voicemail, and then when you answered?—”

“The signal died,” I finished for him, remembering more of the pre-crash situation, but still recalling nothing about theafter. And could I? I’d been lights-out, apparently. “Let me guess,” I said, putting two and two together now that I had an hour to stew and wonder what happened, “one of the security guards was dirty. I thought we were having them followed just in case?” At Constantine’s firm nod, more pieces clicked. “Someone ditched their tail, so you were calling to warn me. Who was it? One of the ambassador’s security detail? That’s who hit us, right? And they died?” Must be why we’re still alive if they caused the wreck. They could’ve easily taken us out after that since Bella and I lost consciousness.

I resisted the urge to allow that horrific scene to play out in my head.You’re alive. You’re safe. We both are.

“They think what happened to you was probably an accident due to the bad weather. The driver lost control of their vehicle and spun, which is why you were hit multiple times,” my dad piped up. “If it were on purpose, they’d have had their lights off so you wouldn’t see them coming and be able to avoid them.”

Lost control, my ass.I kept my attention trained on my father for clarity, unsure if he had plans to give any.

“Right, because if an asshole wanted to cause a wreck in the pitch black with shit visibility from the rain, they’d be able to see their target without headlights? Use night vision, then?” Constantine had a point. Sarcasm warranted and then some.

“The police are wrong about the accident.” I may not have recalled what happened afterward, but I remembered the gritty details from before. “They came around the bend, and I narrowly dodged a head-on collision. They still clipped us, though, which sent us into a spin.” More and more was coming back to me now without the drugs as potent. “They rammed us two more times after that. Let me make something perfectly clear, they hit us on motherfucking purpose.” My jaw strainedas I stared at my father, trying to lift my head. “Please be sure to use those exact words when speaking to the police.”

My father refused to look me in the eyes as he ignored my statement, opting to carry on with the bullshit official version of events. “Well, it’s not the police making that call, it’s the Feds.” Then he killed me with his next words. “They’re handling the case because we’re dealing with a double homicide involving two of a diplomat’s security personnel.”

And there it was. Not one death, but two.

Chills rolled down my aching spine as I pulled my hand away from Bella’s touch, curling my fingers inward as I tried to latch on to something. A memory. Anything.Homicide?“Details.” I clenched my jaw. “Just get this over with. Tell me everything you know.” They couldn’t charge me with vehicular manslaughter. The fuckers hit us, not the other way around.

Without waiting for my father to control the narrative, Constantine took the lead on filling me in. “The ambassador’s security team split up into two vehicles. Malik followed Rafael and Carla’s Tahoe, and Eduardo and the other guy, Chris, were tailed by Marc. They were both supposed to be heading into the city where Carla planned to connect with Special Agent Cattaneo to see her daughter.”

That all tracked, but I could tell the minute my father took over what he was about to tell me wouldn’t. “Eduardo texted Rafael there was an issue with the SUV, so they were swapping it for Chris’s truck, which he’d left at a gas station not too far from the party. We confirmed the F150 was registered in Chris’s name. And according to Rafael, Chris had been sick earlier in the week, so he drove up from D.C. separately from his team. He came a day after the ambassador was escorted to New York but the night before the kidnapping took place.”

Sick my ass.

“That text from Eduardo when they pulled off at the gas station was the last Rafael heard from them.” I’d swear my father had aged fifteen years since the party last night.

Made two of us.

“Marc called to let me know Eduardo got off the parkway and went to a busy gas station. Eduardo and Chris went inside and then he lost them,” Constantine picked up where my father left off.

“They got the drop on Marc?” That was hard to believe.

“Hell if I know how, but they abandoned their SUV in the parking lot, which checks out with what Rafael told us they’d planned to do. Marc didn’t know they’d planned a vehicle swap for an F150, so he had no reason to suspect anything. But Eduardo and Chris had to have known they were being followed since they made an effort to sneak out of the gas station to get into the truck.”

It sucked, but it made sense.

“While you were asleep, we tried to hack the cameras at the station to see what went down, only to find out they’d conveniently been off for that time period.” And the bad news from Constantine kept coming.

“Great, these dead assholes have an alibi as to why they were in that truck so it wouldn’t look suspicious.” None of this was good, but bottom line, they died, not us. And the FBI could call it an unintentional accident all they wanted, it didn’t change the fact I was innocent in their deaths.

Constantine’s spine straightened, only for his shoulders to roll forward from exhaustion. Doubtful the man had slept. “I’m assuming they found you because they tagged the Porsche while you were inside the party. I don’t buy the story the Feds are selling about them taking the same back road as you to bypass traffic on the parkway, and they just happened to come across yourpath.”

“Let me guess,” I said under my breath, “the Feds didn’t find evidence of a tracker?”

“No,” he was quick to answer me. “The second I realized I couldn’t get ahold of you, I tracked your location through Izzy’s phone and sent the local police the coordinates to find you.”

“It gets worse.” That was the last thing I wanted to hear from my old man. “They didn’t die from the accident.”

“Way to bury the lead.” I’d targeted my dad with my frustration. “How’d they die, then?” What in God’s name was everyone keeping from me?

“They found two nine-millimeter slugs in Eduardo’s chest. Same for Chris. Both hit from about ten feet away. Both double-tapped just left of center. Their sidearms were still strapped.” Constantine may have been speaking, but my attention was fully focused on Bella as he shared the shocking news.

Someone had a Glock on that road while I was un-fucking-conscious? All the things that could’ve gone wrong last night played out in real time in my head, like pages of a book flipping fast and uncontrollably.

Scene by scene.

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