Chapter 21
TWENTY-ONE
We’re standing in front of the apartment building where the witness, Rebecca Stone, lives. It bothers me that we’re only just getting back here now. Things have been so busy lately, with something new happening every day, especially in Harlem.
The Metro Milanesi gang is back in the neighborhood. I thought they had disappeared, but they seem to have just kept a low profile for the past few years.
The gang started in the Italian part of Harlem and was mainly known for robberies, assaults, and drug dealings in the area. They aren’t a major gang, but they used to have a lot of members and caused a lot of trouble for the locals.
One of our first assignments as rookies was responding to one of their robberies.
I still remember the blood on the floor, thick and dark, starting to dry.
They had shot the cashier of a local store five times and probably only got a hundred dollars for the effort.
They’re brutal for the sake of being cruel.
That scene haunted me for weeks, and even now, if I close my eyes and think about it, I swear I can still smell the nearly dried blood.
But today seems quiet, and we’re going to use this time to learn more about Carolina’s parents’ case. I can’t believe there’s even a case to begin with. Everything about it is so suspicious.
I understand why Carolina wants to know the truth. I never met her parents, but I want to know the truth too. I need to understand why my girl had to go through and what she’s been through. And if someone’s to blame for it, they need to be put behind bars.
We make our way up the stairs and stand in front of Rebecca’s door. Just as Josh is about to knock, it swings open, and a redhead steps out, almost bumping into Josh because she’s busy rummaging through the purse around her waist.
“Oh my God,” she exclaims, startled.
“Ms. Stone?” Josh asks.
“Yes,” she replies, standing up straight and smoothing her skirt with her hands. “How can I help you?”
“We’re here to ask you about the car crash you witnessed and reported five years ago, right outside this building. Can you remember the accident?” he asks.
She lets out a short laugh. “Remember it? I still have nightmares about it.”
I knit my brows together, puzzled. “Why?”
She glances down at her feet. “Because it was traumatic.”
“What made it so?” Josh probes.
“Can we discuss this while walking? I have an appointment to get to,” she says, moving past Josh.
“Absolutely, we can chat as we walk,” I assure her with a smile, which she returns with a faint one of her own.
“What do you want to know?” she asks. “I told the detective everything I saw that night, but I felt he wasn’t really listening.”
“That’s precisely why we’re here, Ms. Stone,” I share as we walk down the stairs. “We didn’t pay enough attention back then, but we’re listening now.”
We reach the ground floor and walk out of the building.
When we’re standing outside, she turns to face us, taking a deep breath.
“I was getting back from a Pilates class. It was already dark, and as I crossed the street to get to my building, searching for my keys in my purse, I heard honking. I looked up to see a car speeding toward me. They honked like crazy, but I froze. The streetlamp over there illuminated the car’s inside, and I saw a man with sheer terror in his eyes.
That sight somehow kickstarted my brain again, and I darted out of the way just as the car sped past, crashing into the building right behind me.
” She gestures toward a sharp corner in the road.
“The police report states that the driver was under the influence,” Josh states.
She shrugs. “I can’t say. I only caught a brief glimpse of him, but that image has burned itself into my memory.”
“The report also mentioned the car hit the wall at full speed,” I add. “Can you confirm this?”
“They were going fast, but it didn’t seem like he wanted to hit the wall,” she explains, starting to walk again.
“Why do you say that?” I ask.
“It looked like he tried to round the corner, but they were just too fast. They couldn’t have made it.”
“But the lack of skid marks or signs of braking supports the official report,” Josh points out.
“Look, that man didn’t want to crash or die. I’d bet the brakes failed. I told the officer that, but he brushed me off.”
“But the high speed. It doesn’t make sense for them to accelerate if they were trying to slow down,” Josh ponders.
She stops and faces us. “All I know is that man was fully aware that they were going to crash and likely die. And he didn’t want that. That’s all I can tell you. If we’re done, I really need to go.”
“Of course,” I say. “Thank you for your time, Ms. Stone.”
She gives me a brief, intense look before turning and walking away.
“This doesn’t add up. Even if the brakes were tampered with, why keep accelerating?” Josh muses.
“I have no idea,” I reply, frustrated.
Josh opens the door to Sophia’s lab, and we see her and Carolina standing at the lab bench wearing lab coats, gloves, and safety goggles.
“Hey, should we come back later?” Josh asks, and we both pause just inside the lab.
“No,” Sophia replies, taking samples from a machine and placing them in a refrigerator beside the bench. “We’re finished. And I’m starving.”
She walks over to her desk and removes her gloves while Carolina wipes down the machine. As Josh walks over to her, she turns to him, and he gently lifts the goggles from her eyes, placing them on her forehead and leaning in to kiss her.
I’m close enough to hear her let out a happy hum, and a pang of jealousy hits me. It’s not that I’m envious of Josh making her happy. I want him to do just that, but I want to know how those lips feel too. Even Xander got a little taste.
I will be the last guy she ever shares a first kiss with.
Wait, that actually doesn’t sound too bad.
When they break the kiss, she looks up at him and whispers, “I missed you.”
“Missed you more,” he whispers back, leaning in to give her another quick kiss.
“And who missed me?” I chime in, crossing my arms over my chest.
Carolina releases Josh and steps in front of me. “I bet you miss yourself plenty when there’s no mirror around,” she teases, then grabs the front of my uniform and pulls me into a hug. “I never miss you,” she whispers.
I laugh and hold her close. “I haven’t missed you either. Not one bit.” I lean down and kiss the top of her head.
She steps back to remove her coat and gloves. Meanwhile, Sophia and Josh head for the door. Once she’s done, I take her hand, leading her to join the others.
In the hallway, Josh glances back at us holding hands, and Carolina tries to pull away, but I hold on tight. She gives me a stern look, then looks at Josh, who smiles at her and resumes his conversation with Sophia.
“You can’t do shit like that,” she warns. “People will talk. I can’t be with Joshua and then stroll down the hallway holding hands with you.”
“Watch me.” I shrug. “Kitten, I’ve been bullied my whole life for being the bottom in a gay relationship. I don’t give a flying fuck what people think. I thought you felt the same.”
“True, fuck them,” she declares, gripping my hand tighter, intertwining our fingers and making my heart race.
As we sit at our usual cafeteria table, I glance at her, impressed that she’s eating what Josh got her without a fuss.
She has come such a long way already.
“We spoke to the witness today,” I begin, knowing this will capture her immediate attention.
Her eyes widen in surprise. “You did?” she asks, leaning in.
“Yes, but it got us more questions than answers,” I admit, furrowing my brows.
“How so? What did she say?” Sophia asks, sipping her water.
“They did crash into the wall at high speed, but she saw Carolina’s dad and…” I hesitate, searching for the right words.
“And?” Carolina frowns.
“And she believes he looked sober and was trying to avoid the crash,” Josh chimes in, his voice steady. “He even honked to warn her. If he hadn’t, he would’ve hit her. That’s not something someone high on heroin would do. So, at least we have an answer to that question.”
I lean back, and out of the corner of my eye, I spot Del Moro Jr. and his partner, Taylor, standing nearby, glancing our way. “Since the blood wasn’t really—” Josh starts, but I nudge him to stop. “What?” he asks.
“We should discuss this at home,” I suggest, not willing to let anything else be overheard.
Carolina tries to see what caught my attention and mutters a curse. “Do you think he heard us?”
I shrug. “I’m not sure, but he seems a tad too curious for my liking.”