Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 76539 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 383(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76539 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 383(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
A man’s sitting alone at the table. A man with gray hair, a straight back, a lined face. He’s in his sixties, and he’s wearing a simple button-down shirt, a pair of blue jeans, and a bolo tie.
He nods to my father. “Thanks for bringing her,” he says.
And my heart almost stops.
“Of course, Chief Corvine,” Dad says. “I’ll be over in the waiting room when you’re finished.” Dad squeezes my arm and walks off.
Leaving me facing the Chief of the Dallas Police Department, Brett Corvine. He smiles at me, grandfatherly, his blue eyes sparkling, and gestures for me to join him. There’s a glass of water waiting. I don’t know if that’s a reference to my baby or if it’s just polite.
Chief Corvine sips a beer and tilts his head. He’s looking at me like I’m a long-lost friend and I bet that’s part of his charm. “How are you, Sara? Your father speaks highly of you, you know.”
“Does he?” I ask, taken off guard, and as my initial shock wears off, it’s replaced by a cold and seething anger.
He set me up.
My own fucking father set me up.
He brought me to this club tonight to speak with Corvine as some political favor or something like that. Which means Corvine knows about the coverup, which means this case goes all the way up, all the way to the top, to this animal.
I am way out of my depth here and I’m tempted to run away. Maybe I could sneak off, hide in the bathroom, and call Carmine—if he’s in town, he could come here and help.
But that’s stupid.
This is my case and we’re in a public place.
I’m as safe as I’ll ever be.
“I bet you’re wondering why you’re here.” He tilts his head. “Or maybe not. You’re a smart woman. Klein and Houndson? Straight out of law school? That’s not a small task. That’s a real nice firm, though I hear those guys are somewhat conservative over there.”
“Conservative is a nice way of putting it, Chief Corvine, but thank you. I’m very happy to be a part of such a good firm.”
“I bet you are, I bet you are.” He chuckles softly and leans back. The chief is known for his good old boy routine, but he’s not someone I can take lightly. A man like this only gets into his position by being absolutely ruthless. The chief of police is a political position as much as an administrative one, and any worthwhile chief knows how to play both sides. He’s a hard man used to taking care of his cops and doing a hard job, and he’s a clever man used to playing the city hall games. He’ll roll over me if I let him.
“What can I do for you, Chief?”
“I understand you found an interview,” he says, still smiling like this is no big deal, but my heart patters fast in my chest. “Seems someone told you about our unusual filing system.”
“Yes, sir, I did find an interview. It seems it was lost in the archives.”
“Well, you know how that goes. Sometimes things get shoved into boxes and folders and put away and, hell, it just disappears.” He laughs and sips his beer. “I’m glad you fished it out for us.”
“Are you, sir? I’m happy to hear it.”
“It’s only that this puts us in an awkward position. Are you aware of the around this country right now? Are you aware of the threats my officers face daily? The danger they walk into every time they pull over a car for a routine traffic stop?”
“Sir, I am very sympathetic to the police,” I say as carefully as I can, although I want to point out that being a cop isn’t even in the top five most dangerous jobs, not even close.
“Well, something like this little interview, it can make my job that much harder. It can put the lives of my men in jeopardy. And I assume you don’t want that.”
“No, sir. I don’t.”
“Good. Good. That’s really good.” Another sip. Another pause. He laughs quietly. “You know, at a firm like Klein and Houndson, having a friend at the top of the police department might be a good thing.”
“It would,” I say and lean forward. “What are you offering, sir?”
“I’m not offering anything. I don’t make offers.” His eyebrows go up and he gives me an exaggerated innocent look. “I simply make observations.”
“All right, then here’s an observation for you, sir. Nicolas Cavallo is innocent. He’s currently in jail for a crime he didn’t commit and is facing serious time behind bars. Possibly life in prison. That’s a travesty if I’ve ever heard of one, and it’s not the kind of justice system I want in our country.”
“Interesting,” Chief Corvine says, eyebrows raised. “You really give a damn about that gutter rat, don’t you?”