Makes for suspicion.

Makes for a lot of suspicion.

“Do you know for certain he smuggles drugs, Miss Carlisle? Have you witnessed any shipments or handoffs? Any conversations?”

What would be the odds that I would have a cooperating witness to help bring down a crime family?

“Of course not. Drago isn’t that stupid, lady,” she huffs.

“Then what makes you so sure he’s a drug smuggler?”

I hear the irritation in my voice and do what I can to tone it down. I’ll never get the answers I want if I let her affect my attitude.

“What has he done that leads you to believe you and Gabriel are in danger?”

She closes her eyes, pulling in a long stream of air before blowing it out through her mouth. When she opens her brown eyes, I’m met with what I perceive as aggravation. Why? I’m not sure.

“I was just a one-night stand. When I told him about the baby, he became... angry. Grabbed me and said, ‘you’ll regret getting pregnant by me, bitch.’ Because, yeah, I’m the one that got knocked up all by myself.” She rolls her eyes. “Then he told me to bring the baby to him. When I asked why, he shoved me against a wall and said, ‘Do what you’re fucking told and learn not to ask any questions if you value your life.’”

Sounds like a real charmer.

Why any woman would sleep with a man like that is beyond me.

“Do you have any bruising?”

“Huh?” Her perfectly made-up face looks confused.

“Bruises,” I say again, thinking maybe she didn’t hear me clearly, but when she still doesn’t seem to understand, I try again. “Marks on your body from where he grabbed you and from where he shoved you against a wall. If we have something... anything to photograph, it’ll go a long way in corroborating your story.”

“My story?” She pulls back. “You don’t believe me?” she spits out in shock.

“Miss Carlisle,” I call her name out as calmly as possible. “I didn’t say that. Besides, it doesn’t matter what I believe. It matters what a jury believes.”

“A jury!” Her voice rises to an almost shout. Or maybe it’s panic. “What do you mean a jury?”

I take a moment to look at her before speaking. Honestly, I’m trying to keep my mouth under control.

I lick my lips, buying myself more time.

“Are you not planning on pressing charges against Mr. Acerbi for assault? Don’t you want a restraining order?”

“Are you kidding?” She doesn’t wait for my response. “Hell no!”

I shake my head. Now I’m the one confused.

“Then why are you here?”

“Duh... So you can take him down for dealing drugs and—”

“You never mentioned he was dealing drugs.” I shouldn’t have cut her off. Pouncing and being too eager has never served any officer well. “Do you have proof?”

“Well...” She looks down to her lap. After she pulls her cell phone out from under her legs, she looks back up and flashes the black screen at me, then turns it back to face her as her fingers roam the device. “I followed him last night—Drago that is. And I took a photo of him doing a deal. Is that proof enough for you?”

She flips it back around, only this time, it’s a picture displayed on the screen.

“Can I see your phone?”

“Sure.” Chasity hands it over to me.