Page 49 of After All The Wreckage
“They ever say what they wanted?”
Monte’s eyes shifted to look at me, and he adjusted himself in his seat. He shook his head.
Being the smart guy he was, the detective read the hesitancy.
“Look. If we’re going to catch these guys, we need to know what they wanted. Where they were at. How you got away. If you aren’t honest with us, it limits our chances.”
“They asked what I’d talked to the congressman about,” Monte said.
Detective Bradshaw’s eyes flickered. “They asked about school shootings and gun violence?” he asked, disbelief filling his voice.
Monte nodded.
“And you don’t know Dunn otherwise?”
Monte shook his head. The detective looked at me.
I raised a brow, adding my voice to my brother’s. “We don’t know the congressman.”
That settled for a beat between us before Bradshaw asked, “That’s all they wanted to know? What you’d wanted with the congressman? They held you for a day and a half, and that’s it?”
“Th-they recorded me.”
My stomach flipped, and even Bradshaw’s jaded eyes turned worried. “Recorded you how?”
Monte shook his head, disgust in his voice. “Not like that. Maybe an hour or two after they brought me down, they came back with a video camera. They had me repeat what I’d told Dunn. That was it. I didn’t see any of them after that. I tried to dig my way out, tried to break the zip ties…”
He rubbed his wrists, and for the first time, I saw the torn skin there. More fury roared through me. I was going to kill these men. I was going to end them.
“So, after they recorded you, you saw no one? They just left you alone? But you told me earlier they dropped you off.”
Monte swallowed hard and nodded. “Yeah. An hour or so before I got here. They came down. I could tell they were upset. Pissed about something. They were arguing and whispering in both Spanish and English. I heard them say they didn’t like the idea of letting me go. One of them had a knife, and I thought I was going to die all over again, but then he cut the zip ties. The other one aimed a gun at me and told me to go up the stairs. Before I stepped through the door, they put a hood over my head again and had me climb into the trunk. When they stopped the car, they told me to count to fifty before I took the hood off or they’d shoot me. When I finally did, I was in the alley across from the police station. I ran as fast as I could here.”
“We pulled the street cams,” the detective said. “We got a shot of a sedan that matches the description of the one on thevideo your friend brought in. No license plate, and we weren’t able to get a clear view of their faces. The alley where they let you out doesn’t have any cameras.”
Silence settled, and I could feel my brother shaking next to me as he relived the experience. I hated it. I hated everything about this moment.
“They took a big risk letting you go,” Bradshaw said. “I don’t get it. Why take you, ask you about school shootings and Dunn, and then just let you go?”
His question sank into me, and a realization hit. They’d let Monte go after Rory and I had shown up asking about my brother. After she’d already seen the video of him talking with Dunn and they’d erased it. Our poking around had likely freed my brother.
But my relief was quickly followed by fear because they had to know we would put the pieces together. Which was why it didn’t make sense that they’d let him go. It would have been cleaner for them to kill him.
That thought tore through me like a knife.
None of it mattered. They’d let him go. He was here. I’d keep him safe.
“I don’t know why they let me go. I thought… I thought they were going to kill me, you know? I thought…” Monte’s breath was uneven, and he put his face in his hands, another giant sob racking him.
“I think we’re done here,” I said, standing. “I want to take my brother to the hospital and get him home. He’s been through enough.”
Detective Bradshaw stood. “I’d like to talk to Gage outside for a second before we send you both on your way.”
I rubbed Monte’s back gently. “I’ll be right back. We’re leaving. I promise.”
Monte put his arms on the table, resting his face on top, eyes closed. My heart bled out just looking at him. He was exhausted and frightened and drained. I wanted to wrap him in a hug and get him the hell out of there.
Outside the door, I crossed my arms over my chest, wondering which part of the story the detective was going to pick apart the most. There was no way we could tell him the truth, and I knew, just like he said, it would hurt their chances of catching these bastards. Then, Rory’s face popped into my head. Maybe we could still figure out what happened, with or without the police. I was pretty sure she’d continue to help us.
