“She already said she didn’t know anything!” David bellowed.
With that, Detective O’Keefe finally gave his full attention to the man.
“Listen here, DeWitt. I’ve had about all I can take of your mouth. How about you go on out of here and let me speak to your woman alone,” Detective O’Keefe said.
It wasn’t what he said, but how he said it.
“Someone go get him out of there. Bring him in here and let him watch what happens next,” Foster suddenly said.Chapter 25A female that truly loves you will stick with you until the end. Your mother that is, not me. ‘Cause I sure ain’t dealin’ with your shit anymore.
-Blake to Foster
Foster
“Get your fuckin’ hands off me,” David hissed, ripping his arm roughly from Luke’s grip.
Luke shoved him down into a seat at the front, which meant he never saw that I was standing in the back.
David growled something unintelligible at Luke, and Luke followed it up with something low of his own. “Sit down and shut up. We’re trying to fucking help a fellow fucking officer. Shut the fuck up and watch.”
I blinked, surprised at the vehemence in his voice.
David’s body slumped, and I was surprised at how defeated he looked.
Wow, he truly did care about her!
I’d had my doubts, but this proved to be something I never expected.
I mean, how could you care about someone that was clearly lying?
Every one of us could see it. Was he in so deep that he couldn’t?
“Alright, Ms. Aleo,” Detective O’Keefe sat down. “We know you were involved. It’s only a matter of time before the entire thing is revealed. How about you go ahead and let us know what’s going on.”
“You’re lying,” she hissed. “You have nothing on me.”
O’Keefe smiled. It was a mean smile. One that he must use solely for the interrogation of suspects.
“Your ex-husband, Emmett Aleo, was a very helpful man,” Detective O’Keefe said, leaning back in his chair.
His posture spoke of ease and triumph.
He had her and he knew it.
“If you’re not arresting my client, we’re leaving,” the lawyer said, standing abruptly.
O’Keefe stood, too.
Then he pulled out some papers from his back pocket.
“Your husband was very helpful, actually,” he said, offering the lawyer a stack of papers.
The lawyer took it, and his head hung. “Fuck.”
Well that wasn’t very lawyer-like.
Foster’s arms around me squeezed tightly before letting loose of me and moving closer so he could stand next to the window again.
David glared at his back, and I had to cover my mouth to hold in the laughter that threatened to boil from my throat.
“I bet he gets a confession from her in three minutes,” Downy said, tossing a piece of popcorn into his mouth.
“Two.”
“Five.”
“Seven.”
“One.”
That last comment was made by Nico, which had caused David to turn around and see just who, exactly, was in the room with him.
I gave him a little wave when his eyes landed on me, causing him to glare and turn around so abruptly that his chair rocked.
The lawyer laid his papers down on the table in front of Berri, and her eyes were dragged there unwillingly.
Then her eyes widened.
“What do the papers say?” I asked no one in particular.
“Do you know what that means, Ms. Aleo?” The Detective asked.
“Just wait for it,” Bennett said. “It’s going to be beautiful.”
I snorted, but nonetheless ‘waited for it.’
Berri refused to say anything.
“Those are divorce papers,” Detective O’Keefe said.
David snorted, but then froze at the detective’s next words.
“Divorce papers from Quentin Ortiz,” O’Keefe continued. “Tell me, Ms. Aleo. Why didn’t anyone know you were married to Quentin Ortiz last week when we visited you? Maybe because nobody was supposed to know? Your fiance knows, though, doesn’t he?”
“I guess, since you’re not going to help out, you can tell me if I get anything wrong. Like I said, your ex-husband was very helpful,” O’Keefe said cheekily. “Mr. Ortiz and you are con artists. Marry separate people, take them for all they’re worth, and move on to the next one. But you stay married to each other while you do it, which is where y’all screwed up.”
Berri’s eyes went crazy as she tried to look for an escape.
However, there wasn’t one. O’Keefe had her and we all knew it.
“Your husband plea bargained out, tossing you under the bus in exchange for lesser charges,” O’Keefe said. “He was adamant, though, that you screwed up and then, in turn, screwed him over. See, you weren’t supposed to get pregnant. Something you’d done with David Dewitt. And he was mad, but you convinced him this could work in your favor. That you could get more money. Except something…or someone, upset you. And you went back to your ex-husband, Quentin Ortiz, and asked him to do something for you.”
She finally broke.
“I went and found them. I wanted what was rightfully mine. I’m the one having the baby. She’s not. So why can’t I have it?” Berri hissed.
“How’d you know he’d do it?” O’Keefe asked, arms crossing casually across his chest.
“The newspaper. With her little ‘We’re Heroes Too’ story she got in the paper the day after it happened. I hadn’t realized he was doing that sort of thing. When I leave my exes, I have no contact with them again.”
“And this time?” O’Keefe asked.
“That stupid whore of an ex of David’s. She refused to give me the heirloom that was rightfully mine,” she snarled.
“All of this over a fucking cradle?” I half yelled. “David, you stupid son of a bitch!”
I tried to launch myself at him, but I wasn’t stopped by Foster, or my uncle, but Downy.
His bowl of popcorn went tumbling out of his lap as he grabbed me around the waist before I could make it to David.
Once he had me around the waist, he practically tossed me through the air towards Foster, who then caught me and clamped his steely arms tightly around my chest.
“It’s okay, honey,” he whispered. “He feels horrible. Look at him.”
Reluctantly, I did, and I didn’t like what I saw.
He did look horrified.
He looked broken. Yet, I didn’t care. Not in the least bit.