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Detective Drisklay scowls and waves away the junior detective who props the door open to see if we want more coffee.
“And that’s the last thing you remember?” Drisklay asks me with a frown.
“That’s the last thing I remember,” I repeat.
Drisklay sighs. “Well, I imagine it’s not quite rocket science to figure out what happened next. Gomez played the hero, got his body dumped in the lake, and Daddy took you home along with a whole arsenal of drugs to make you forget.”
My whole body started trembling at some point when I began talking about hiding in the woods with Chris, and it hasn’t stopped since. “What about Mom?” My voice is barely louder than a croak.
“We still don’t know if your dad attacked her before or after he killed Gomez. To be honest, I’m not sure the timeline really matters.”
“Why couldn’t you figure this all out before?” I don’t mean to sound accusatory, but it doesn’t make sense to me. “Don’t you always look at the family first?”
“Your father had an alibi,” Drisklay says. “We have records of him chartering a flight on his business jet to Florida that morning as well as footage of him at his offices in Miami.”
“So that was all doctored?”
Drisklay shrugs. “That’s for the prosecution to determine.”
I don’t say anything else. It certainly makes sense. If Dad could wave his hand to make the allegations against my brother disappear, if he could kill his own wife as well as my boyfriend, he certainly would have found ways to cover his tracks.
“What happens now?” I ask.
Drisklay leans back in his chair and takes another sip of coffee.
“Now we do what we can to put your father behind bars and make sure he never gets out.”
“Is that going to work?” I ask. “Is there enough evidence?”
“I’ve sent off your blood work to the lab already. If they find what I’m certain they’re going to find, that’s a good start.”
“But what if he just blames my brother?”
“I’m sure he will,” Drisklay continues. “Which is why I have men bringing Marco in right now. This file right here.” Drisklay taps on the envelope with my brother’s name on it. “I think your brother’s going to have some compelling reasons to cooperate with us.”
I stare at the table. Think about what lies ahead. I shake my head. “You don’t know my dad,” I tell Drisklay. “You don’t know how good he is at getting out of stuff like this.”
Drisklay leans forward. “Miss Blanca, I didn’t become the head detective here because I treat justice like a game. I’m here because I put men slimier, sleazier, and even more well-connected than your father behind bars for a living. And that’s exactly what I intend to do here. Now.” He stands up. “If you’ll excuse me for a minute, I’ve got a pile of evidence in my favor and one sick and twisted son of a gun to get off the streets.”