As a single mom in a small town, there's only one thing I want. Another baby. When all the roads to getting what I want lead to dead ends, I turn to one of my best friends for help.
In my mind, Trent Castillo is the perfect baby daddy. He has good g...
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My head is so fucking mixed up, that I don't know what I'm thinking or feeling. After vowing I'd never end up here again—obeying the speed limit, always getting a designated driver, ignoring Dan's threats to my business—I still somehow ended up under suspicion.
My lawyer, Thomas Rodriguez, came as soon as I called. We're in a separate room to meet before I get questioned, which I suspect means he thinks I actually could be mixed up in this. I've got nothing to hide.
"Alright," Thomas says, consulting his notes. "The police traced a drug ring from Utica to Little Falls. The problem is that it appears to have started in Little Falls around the time you took over Mullen Mechanics. Or at least, that's when the police have been able to trace it back to."
"Nobody can be saying I'm part of this," I say. "I didn't do shit."
"Dan has said he approached you, and you agreed to run some drugs."
"What?" I practically yell the word. "That slimy motherfucker. That's not true. It's not true. They won't be able to find one ounce of evidence to link us."
But then I remember the break-in, how we all assumed it was Dan, but we never got a clear answer about who did it. We cleaned up the shop after that, but what if Dan planted something. That'd be just like him. Whoever had been in there had tried to break into my computer system, so they were clearly aiming to do more than steal a few tools.
"Are they arresting me?" I ask.
"You're correct in that they don't have any evidence, other than Dan's comments, to link you two." He takes a deep breath. "Yet. They have the warrant to search your shop, your computers, and your security system."
"If they find anything," I say, clenching and unclenching my hands under the table, "it was planted. I swear to you that I've got nothing to do with this."
"When we go in there to speak to the police, check with me before you answer any question. Just a visual check-in is fine. They're feeling you out, but they have no evidence. We don't want to inadvertently give them something they feel the need to pursue."
"Thomas, I'm clean." A hint of frustration has crept into my voice.
"Trent, I told you this last time, my job is to defend you to the best of my ability, make sure the rule of law is followed."
Unlike last time, that response is maddening. I just want him to know that I didn't do it. Last time I did, and I was prepared to pay whatever price the law required. The injustice of it all just makes me want to fucking cry, but getting emotional isn't going to get me out of here.
"Let's get this over with," I say, rising from my seat.
Together, we head into the police interrogation room, and I tell them everything I know.
