Page 59 of Kingpin

“That’s enough. Unless you’ve got proof, take your shit somewhere else,” Israel glowered.

The officer took my hand, and I felt him slip me a card.

“Just think about it. Okay? Dig back into the records. I know you and your family have those kind of connections. Something was covered up that night. And I know you two are covering up something now. If your uncle—”

“He’d never do such a thing,” I bit out.

But the warehouse fire proved differently. That cell phone call proved differently.

Did my uncle kill my father?

“Come on, let’s get you home,” Israel said. “And Officer?”

“Yeah?”

“You search the premises as much as you like. So long as you consult with me on what you find first. Understood?”

He nodded slowly. “Yeah, yeah. I got it.”

Everything went black until I felt Israel’s hands on me. I startled back to life, and my eyes danced around what I assumed would be the back of a town car. But it wasn’t. I was in a bedroom. Our bedroom, actually. I looked down and saw Israel slipping off my heels before taking stock of my toes.

I had a few nails that had broken, and they were encrusted with blood.

Silently, as if neither of us had the energy to speak any longer, he worked his way up my body. He unbuttoned my blouse and slid it down my arms. He unfastened my bra and tossed it into the hamper. Off came my clothes, piece by piece. His touch was so delicate. So soft.

As if he were handling his favorite porcelain doll.

“I’ll pay to have your hair cut and styled. It’s singed at the ends,” he said.

I nodded mindlessly. “I’m not really concerned about my hair.”

“Were you telling the truth?”

“Huh?”

He laid me down to slip off my panties. “Did you really rush in to go find me?”

I didn’t miss a beat. “Yeah. I did.”

“Why?”

I shrugged. “You’re my husband. Why else?”

I didn’t bother asking him why he came after me. Or how he knew in the first place. I didn’t want to know the answer. Whether it was because he cared for me or because he didn’t want to explain my charred death to the police, I’d never know. I didn’t want to know. Because I had suffered enough heartache for one lifetime.

Especially since I couldn't stop thinking about the possibility that Uncle Pava was responsible for my family’s death.

25

Israel

My phoneonly rang once before I answered it. “Tell me you’ve got something?”

“Yes, sir. I’ve got the official records from the police department as well as the original records that were filed that Officer Brent kept.”

“Have you found anything?”

He paused. “Yes. I’ve found a lot, actually.”

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