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“But…” My gaze encompasses the gathering. “After everything…”
“Afraid nothing’s cleared up yet. Not officially.” Chavez directs his words to me. “But it will be, I think. Shouldn’t take more than a few days.”
My jaw descends. “A fewdays?” He has got to be kidding.
I can’t make it a few days without Marco.
Yes, yes I can. I’m tough, but… “That isn’t fair. We know what happened now. We know that stupid kid was there to kill Marco.Kill him.”
“Right now, that’s all suppositions and allegations. This case is a political football. And there’s still the matter of no weapon found at the scene.”
Fury burns.
Chavez holds up his palm. “I’m working on it. I’m on your side.” He includes not just Marco, but all of us in his gaze.
Marco’s stance is easy, but his cheek is tucked between his teeth. Gosh, the inside of his mouth must be shredded beef. I squeeze his hand with all my might.
The pair that spoke with Chavez when he arrived come our way. “Looks like it’s time.”
What? “No.”
Everyone looks at me. I look at Marco. “I…I need…”
Tripp pipes up. “Give ’em a minute, John.” He directs this to the staid Chavez, at which point the use of a first name reminds me Tripp recently received a promotion.
Chavez turns. “He needs five minutes, fellas.”
I don’t know if these two are officially his underlings, but both fall back.
I tug Marco to the hallway. I feel eyes follow, so I stay barely in sight, but far enough away to afford us some privacy.
Tears fill my eyes. “Marco…”
“Shh.”
He pulls me to his chest, his hand stroking my hair. “It’s going to be alright, Allie Girl.”
He’s the best comforter ever. I totally get why his niece stops bawling the minute he holds her.
But I push back, smacking my wayward hair from my face. I’m supposed to be comforting him. Once before I didn’t stand up for him—I won’t let that happen a second time. “It isn’t right. How can they still arrest you?”
He smiles faintly. “You know how the law is. But it’ll get worked out.”
“Are you sure?” What if…Oh, I can’t bear thewhat ifs.
“I’m sure.”
I touch his cheek. “Then why do you look so sad?”
“Annalise…” He looks at his feet.
Fear, a brand new one, starts chewing at me. “You will call me when you get out, right?”
His cheek jerks. “Look…”
Feels like a fist connects with my chest. “You won’t. You’re not going to call, are you?”
He’s staring at his feet again.
