Page 97 of Enemies to Prom Dates
Me:What can I do?
Fitz:Talk to Locke. See if he’s found out anything. Tell him I’ll owe him another favor.
Me:On it.
* * *
Fitz
I putmy phone in my pocket and folded my arms over my chest while my father paced in front of me. My mom was still on a conference call with a lawyer who had been recommended to her by a former colleague at the Justice Department.
“Tell me you didn’t do this,” my dad said.
“I didn’t do it.”
He stopped. Then looked at me. “You know, you can tell me if you did this. We will still get you out of this mess. At worst, all they’re going to be able to charge you with is leaving the scene of an accident.”
The witness had told the police it looked intentional, but that would be difficult to prove just based on a bystander’s word alone. It’s not like he could actually see intent.
Not that I cared.
I held my hands up. “I didn’t do it. I wasn’t there. I didn’t hit Wick with my car. End of story.”
He frowned and sat next to me on the couch, his elbows on his knees.
“Fitz…the video.”
“I don’t care,” I exploded. Pushing myself off the couch. Now it was my turn to pace. “I know. I watched it, too. Me, in my car crossing over Kings Highway at 8:12 pm. Except I was still at The Woods then.”
“They’ve got your face,” he said dully.
“Yes, because it was me. But not at that time! I was going to pick up Beth at The Club. That was like at least two and a half hours later. I swear to God I did not hit Wick with my car. With my fist, fuck yes. A car? You know me! You know I wouldn’t pull weak ass shit like that.”
My dad sighed. “Gigi told us what happened at the party. If you thought you were protecting your sister—”
“No,” I stopped him. “Do not try to make any excuses for something I didn’t do. There is something wrong with the time stamp on the video. That’s all this is.”
“We have representation,” my mother announced, walking into the room. Even on her day off, she still looked like a senator. Slacks, silk blouse, her hair and makeup done, despite us all having spent most of the night at the police station.
“If he’s charged,” she said.
“When he’s charged,” my dad said. “It’s not going to matter who his parents are, Aggie. He’s black, which means he’s already half a criminal in their minds. This is just the push they need to tell themselves they were right all along.”
“Can we hold off on the black man outrage for a moment while we deal with the issue at hand?”
“No, Aggie,” my dad said. “I cannothold off. I live with the outrage every day. And do you want to know why?”
“Because you’re a black man,” she said. This was not the first angry black man speech my dad had given.
“Because I’m a black man! And it doesn’t matter that I’m married to the high-powered senator, or that I live in the fancy house, in the fancy town and I drive the fancy cars. My son is black. Which will forever make him a suspect in the minds of the police.”
My mom chose not to respond and looked at me instead. “Did you do this, Fitz? If you did, just tell us now. We can help you.”
“I did not. And if I did, I wouldn’t lie about it. The time on the video is wrong. I was at that intersection. But not until after ten-thirty, maybe eleven, when I left the party to go pick up Beth.”
“You think someone took your car then?”
“The keys were in it,” I sighed. “A bunch of people probably knew that. Was there time for someone to take my car, hit Wick and drop it back off…yes.”
