Dinner on Friday

39. Dante

A-Game

Detective Herrera closed the door to my jail cell with a loud bang. I grounded my molars at the sound of the key turning in the lock.

"I told you not to trust anyone," he hissed, disappointment weighing down his gaze.

I met his stare head-on. "Does that include you? Because you know damn well I didn't do this."

He slid the keys out of the lock, holding the bunch tightly in his fist. "Give your uncle what he wants."

It took a second for his words to register, and when they did, I didn't understand why I was shocked. The entire police force, including the detectives, were on the clan's payroll, and they took orders directly from Mathias.

"I fucking knew it. How much did he offer you, Herrera? One million? Is that what it takes for you to betray your code of honor? To stand by and watch an innocent woman get poisoned? I thought you were different."

"You don't know anything about me, Dante. Watch your tongue because I know a lot about you and your family."

"You're a piece of shit, that much I know."

Herrera smiled tightly. "I'll be back to take you to the interrogation room. Do you need me to call your lawyer?"

"The fuck do you think?"

"I think it won't make a difference. The evidence against you is substantial. Bend to your uncle's will or go down for two counts of murder. Your choice."

"I did not kill anyone," I yelled when he started walking away from me.

Silence greeted me and I cursed under my breath. "Shit."

Hours passed before my lawyer, Amanda Garcia, showed her pudgy face. In her late forties, she was short, but there was always an urgency in her steps whenever she walked.

In the interrogation room, I could hear her heels strutting down the hallway from a mile away.

As Amanda entered the room, her gaze met mine with concern. She and my mother were close, and she didn't pry or try to make small talk.

Without any preamble, she sat across from me, her expression grave.

"Dante, we need to talk strategy," she began, her tone brisk and businesslike.

I leaned back in my chair, the weight of the accusations settling heavily on my shoulders. "We need to expose Mathias for the snake he is. He killed those women, not me."

"We'll need solid evidence. Testimonies, documents, anything that can tie him to the murders of Eva and Madeleine and the attempted murder of your wife."

I couldn't tell Amanda that my strategy was to straight up murder the man. To watch a bullet sink into his skull. To boil him alive. To skin him from scalp to toenail.

"That won't work," I said.

"Do you want to go to prison?"

My eyes narrowed. "Do you know anything about Mathias Caneos? He's ruthless, and ninety-five percent of Spain's policemen and politicians are on his payroll."

Resolved flickered in Amanda's eyes before speaking in a hushed tone. "Then we start by tearing apart his network, exposing every corrupt cop, every dirty deal he's made. We'll leave no stone unturned until we have enough to put him away for good."

"My wife doesn't have that kind of time. This could take years, precious time I would rather spend with Carla."

Amanda nodded. "I understand. The next obvious strategy is to take the plea deal they're offering."

I gritted my teeth, frustration boiling beneath the surface. "Fuck that, I won't admit to something I didn't do just to save my skin."

Her gaze didn't waver as she opened the thin folder before her. "I know, Dante. But think about Carla. She needs you now more than ever. If you take a plea deal, we can negotiate for a shorter sentence. You'll still have a chance to fight from the inside, to gather evidence against Mathias and bring him down."

My fists clenched at my sides, torn between my desire for justice and the need to protect my wife. "What kind of deal are we talking about?"

"The government is more interested in stopping the production and sale of Mx than they are in arresting a drug lord's son for attempting to kill his wife. They're offering a deal-a reduced sentence in exchange for information on the drug lord selling Mx."

"I don't know anything about the sale of Mx. I'm no longer in the game, Amanda."

Amanda looked around suspiciously before lowering her voice to a whisper. "What do you know about the drug lord known as El Diablo?"

The name sent a shiver down my spine. El Diablo was a powerful figure in the underworld, his influence reaching far and wide.

"Jack shit. I've never even met the man. Their operation is just as covert as ours; that's why they're the competition. How am I supposed to snitch on someone I've never met or seen in action?"

Amanda's eyes bore into mine, her tone urgent. "You know Mathias's connections, Dante. You know how he operates. You could provide valuable intel that could help take down his competition."

I gritted my teeth. "Mathias doesn't care about what Mx is doing to the people unfortunate enough to use it. All he wants to do is claim the production and sale of Mx for himself. Doing this would only be to his advantage."

"That may be true, but let's focus on the reduced sentence here. It's better than risking life in prison for something you didn't do."

I hesitated, the thought of betraying my principles conflicting with the desire to protect Carla and bring down Mathias.

"I'll do it." I stared at Amanda. "But on one condition only. No jail time. I didn't do any of the shit they're accusing me of."

Amanda nodded. "You're asking for a lot, but I wouldn't be a great lawyer if I didn't try. I'll arrange a meeting. Just be prepared. They won't let you off the hook so easily. They will ask for something in return if they decide to reduce your sentence to zero."

"I know."

As I spoke the words, I knew that I had agreed to sell my soul to the devil, but if it meant that I got to spend
more time with Carla, I would do whatever it took. This would give me the chance to keep Carla safe while I hunted the man responsible for her suffering.

Knowing Mathias, he had every intention of playing dirty. I had to bring my A-game, as the Americans would say, if I wanted to outsmart him.

:|:

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