Sully chortles. “I find that hard to believe. You lived in an apartment provided by Mr. Manghini, did you not?”
“So?”
“Surely you heard something.”
“No. I never heard a thing. Like I said, he didn’t talk business with me.”
“Can you tell us about your relationship with Mr. Manghini?”
“No.”
“Are you afraid of Mr. Manghini?”
“No.”
Sully leans over the desk, putting his nose in my face. “You are in a lot of trouble here. You’d better figure out how to get us something, or you’ll end up in jail.”
“I want a lawyer.”
“Look,” McGalicaster wheedles, suddenly turning saccharine sweet on me. “We want to help you. We know you have medical bills you haven’t been able to pay off. In addition to clearing your record of all tax fraud and eliminating your tax liability, the government is also willing to pay off your medical bills.”
“Oh really?” I say sarcastically. “And all I have to do is—what? Turn informer on a member of the mafia? Sure, that sounds like a great exchange!”
“So youdoknow about Bobby’s business?”
Fuck. I roll my eyes. “Of course I don’t!”
“Did you know that your boyfriend bribed the mayor to receive certain city contracts?”
I stare at them. Is that the worst they have on him? I feared revelations of murders, drug rings, prostitution, gambling. But bribing the mayor to get a contract? I could care less. “So?”
“So, that’s illegal.”
“For the mayor, maybe. Listen, if this is all you have to say, I’m through. Let me out of here.”
“You’ll leave when we’re through!” McGalicaster snapped.
“I want an attorney,” I repeat. I've watched enough crime television to know that anything I say after demanding a lawyer would be inadmissible in court. I’m also pretty sure they can’t hold me very long without charges. I fold my arms across my chest and decide to pull my best silent treatment.
Three hours later, McGalicaster and Sully finally let me go. I’m hungry and pissed off and more than a little nervous.
All I can think about is how many times Bobby freaked out over me seeing or overhearing anything.
It’s for your safety and mine.
Of course I don’t know anything, and even if I did, I wouldn’t talk, but will he know that? And the better question might be–will his boss know that?
I walk outside the building and pull out my phone to call an Uber, but I’m stopped when three young men surround me.
“Lexi,” one of them says. I recognize him as one of the guys who moved my things into Bobby’s. Tommy, I think. And Junior is the other one.
Fuck. This is bad.
Very, very bad.
“We need you to come with us.”
* * *