Page 105 of Bene

Including this cop.

“Absolutely sure,” the detective replied. “I just find it interesting you were there, that’s all.”

“Why?”

“You don’t ask the questions here, young man.”

Bene scowled. “I heard what the RCMP were saying at the mansion, you know? About the maple syrup farms, and how they believe it’s being used to launder money for my father and his associates. See, the thing is … our name isn’t even attached to those farms. Not on paper … you look, see if you can find something, it’s all third party companies who own those yeah? My knowledge of these farms are not an admission of guilt, put that on the record, thanks, and you won’t find shit in those farms, but here’s the thing, Keefs.”

The detective arched a brow. “What about it?”

“Only family knows anything about us and those farms.”

Or famiglia.

Or anyone who might have gotten inside his father’s office.

Things were falling together.

Bene didn’t like it.

It started with the way the detective seemed to recognize Vanna’s name. And then he had to think about other things, too. Like the fact she just showed up one day in his life, and while things like that were certainly possible, he didn’t believe in coincidences when he started adding up other facts. Her place was empty. She left him high and dry.

That woman was not who he thought she was.

“Did you have a rat talk?” Bene asked.

The detective laughed. “Again, you don’t ask the ques—”

“Then, we’re done here.”

He looked to his lawyer.

Keefs huffed. “I’m not done with this interview.”

Bene still didn’t grace the man with his attention. He simply kept his attention on his lawyer, and let the man do whatever talking for him that he needed to do to get him out of this goddamn room and interrogation. Nothing had been found on him when he was arrested, and the arrest was only because he threatened a cop that got handsy with his mother. He knew for a fact they searched his penthouse in the city because they showed him the warrant, and so far, nothing came out of that, or they surely would have let him know.

They couldn’t keep holding him.

That much was true.

Every Guzzi knew how this game with law enforcement was played. It wasn’t their first rodeo, and it wouldn’t be the last, either.

And that game?

It was all about waiting.

“To appease the bastards,” his lawyer said as they exited the building, “I set up another interview with them next week. Only this time, it’ll happen in my offices, and they’ll be required to send their questions to me three days before the interview, so we can go over it and make sure your answers are appropriate.”

Bene nodded, listening to what the man said, but more interested in the person standing on the steps of the police station. Marcus looked ready to throw a goddamn fit in his crumpled suit—but hey, at least he was standing on the steps and not inside in a jail cell.

“Later, okay?” he told his lawyer.

The man nodded. “I’ll call the others. Get everything together.”

“Grazie.”

Once the lawyer left his side, Bene headed for his oldest brother. Marcus glared at the building with a scowl that could rival the devil’s. Before he even said a word, Marcus muttered, “They’re holding dad—it’s all fucking sketchy, and I am pretty sure the charges they’ve got on him are bogus bullshit meant to keep him in a cell until they can work something out on the money laundering and whatever else.”