Page 12 of The Italian Reckoning
Where the hell does he get off asking me something like that? Poking around like he gets some kind of commission for bringing other cops to the crooked dark side. Should I go to the captain?
No. I have nothing concrete. Never have.
Ever since I learned of the corruption here, I’ve tried to get some hard evidence, but the problem with dirty cops is that they know exactly how to keep things secret. They know the system and play it like experts. Between them and my current case, there’s no light on the horizon.
By the time the end of the day rolls around, I’m even more disillusioned about the future of the case. I called every nightclub I could think of and they gave me the same response—call back at an undisclosed time to talk to someone higher up who may or may not be there when I call. I pack up and head out of my office, determined to get as drunk as possible on the singular box of wine I have back at my apartment. That and Iris for company spells the perfect end to a terrible day.
“Sarah!”
A voice calls out to me just as I reach the elevator and as I turn, Jade from the front desk loops her arm into mine.
“Jade?”
“Come on.” She tugs at my arm and grins at me.
“Where?”
“Out, of course!” Her bright smile lights up her face. “I know what today is. Did you really think I was going to let you slip away without a birthday drink?”
“Hush!” I whisper desperately, not wanting other people to know. “I didn’t make a fuss because I’m tired. I really just want to go home.”
“Nope!” Jade drags me into the elevator and refuses to let go of my arm as more people fill inside. “We’re taking you out for drinks and you have to stay for atleasttwo of them, okay?”
I want to decline and try to for the entire elevator ride, but in the end, real alcohol from a bar sounds much more appealing than box wine. I don’t need to worry about Iris either since her food is on a timer and she’s a very independent kitty.
Before long, Jade drags me into the local bar with several of our colleagues and the drinks start flowing. Luckily, the asshole from earlier isn’t here or I’d finally be bold enough to give him a piece of my mind. I start with a rum and Coke, but Jade quickly presses pretty but strong, fruity cocktails in my hand, and the night develops a warm, colorful haze.
I drink and dance, letting the stress of the day and the lack of conclusion to the case melt into the background. Work is nothing. Drinking and dancing are everything. It’s not the same as the dancing I romanticize in my mind each time I see the couple in the building across from me dancing their hearts out, but it’s close enough. For a few hours, my worries cease to exist.
Four drinks is my limit. I’ve never been a heavy drinker and the exhaustion of the day is catching up to me now that my blood is warmed with alcohol, so after kissing Jade on the cheek, I say my goodbyes to everyone who came out—half of whom didn’t even know it was my birthday, but I let them off.
Outside, the cool air is a welcome change from the heat of the club.
I need to find a taxi.
With a drink affecting the stability of my memory, recalling the easiest place to get a taxi takes some work. I walk down the street and vaguely remember a shortcut that takes me through a parking lot to the other block where several taxis usually line up, waiting for the late-night drinkers to stumble out with enough poor direction to make a decent amount of money.
The world is quiet beyond the distant hum of traffic and the thump of music that grows fainter with each step. I stumble briefly over some small stones, avoid a pothole, and head through the parking lot with my thoughts drifting to the temptation of a takeaway when I get home.
Suddenly, something solid crashes into my back and I lose my footing, stumbling over myself as my balance tips far to theright. As I try to steady myself, pressure sweeps down my arm and my handbag is ripped right out of my hands by some passing thug.
The jerk of my arm sends me down to the ground, landing hard on my hands and knees with a cry, but I don’t stay down.
“Hey!” I yell as I scramble to my feet. “Hey, what thefuck? Get back here!”
5
ROCKY
Another dead end.
In a city full of criminals, it shouldn’t be this difficult to find just one, but it turns out no one is willing to claim responsibility for Belle’s death. It’s not the first time something like this has happened, and usually, a family steps up within the day to claim the death, along with the reason behind it.
Not this time.
Belle’s body remains locked away in police custody while the world remains silent about the culprit. Either this hit was personal or someone close to her has something to hide.
Driving back from yet another dead end, I weave through the late-night traffic as my mind replays every detail I’ve learned about Belle so far. Gio did a really good job of keeping her away from a life of crime to the point that I’m not even sure she was aware that her uncle was a career criminal. It wouldn’t be the first time an uncle had worked hard to keep his niece out of this kind of life. For all accounts, her upbringing was as ordinary as anyone else's.
