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I give in and go with them. Neighbors are watching as if I was a convicted criminal already.
This has got to be one of Don’s tricks. Since he asked me for Clayton’s access card, I haven’t updated him on anything. I haven’t even tried to fish any intel off Clayton. I never intend to.
At the station, I’m placed inside a grim interview room, being asked the same question over and over.
“Lying to the police is a serious offense, Miss Martin.”
“I know. But I haven’t done anything wrong!”
“You admitted that you were driving along Hilgard Avenue at around seven a.m. yesterday. That put you at the crime scene.”
“Who am I supposed to have hit?”
“You’re a mother, Miss Martin. Surely, you remember that girl.”
A girl? This is absurd!
“You’re lucky she only has scratches and minor bruises. But what you’ve done is inexcusable, and you’re not gonna get away with it!”
“I want a lawyer.”
The door bursts open. “I’m he. Don’t say anything else, Isabelle.”
I’ve never seen that man before. He continues, “Your witness has just withdrawn their statement.” He passes some paperwork to the officer interviewing me. “The plate number ends with an eight, not a three. My client has got nothing to do with the hit and run.”
The officer studies the statement. He then gestures to his colleague to keep watch while he leaves the room.
Moments later, the officer comes back. “I apologize, Miss Martin. You’re free to go.”
Is that it?
I should be glad, but I’m so angry somehow, I’m expecting more confrontation from my supposed lawyer. He ushers me out of the station.
“Who are you?”
“Just follow me.”
“I’ve got to go. I’m late for work.”
“Follow me. It’s not a request, it’s an order.”
And why am I not surprised? Waiting for me in his black BMW is the Grim Reaper himself.
“Today was an alleged hit-and-run. Next, it’ll be a series of unfortunate events that you’ll have no hope of recovering from,” Don crows. “Get in!”
I join him in his car.
He throws me a sour look. “I still had the decency to do it after Raffi had left. Imagine if the boy had seen you being taken by the two officers. That would’ve been traumatic, don’t you think?”
“You’re a low piece of shit!”
“Language, Iz!” he warns. “Where’s Clayton’s access card?”
“He canceled on me. I didn’t get that tour he promised.”
“Why?”
“He had a meeting with the Air Force. With a general. Must’ve been something important for him to prioritize it over me.”
