“Did you have time to process that fact? No you did not! Two experts say so. And who knows what Alex Yeager would have done with that knife? His girlfriend was close to decapitated when he got done with her.”
This image starts to bring up lunch.
“Wait. Was Alex Yeager seeing Connie?”
Mr. Ferro rolls his eyes. “Alex Yeager was a buffoon. Who goes running to his father’s accountant with his girlfriend’s body?”
“Accountant to thugs, right? Mendes must have loved my father’s spreadsheets.”
“Your father was a legitimate businessman!” Mr. Ferro roars at me. “Esteban Mendes is a legitimate accountant!” He stops to catch his breath. “Anybody asks about your father, you wait for me to object. Then you stop speaking.”
“It would be a lot easier if someone would tell me what’s happening. Why can’t I talk to Nicolette?”
With the hundreds of dollars an hour of Manx money he’s getting for defending me, it would be nice if Mr. Ferro could disguise his annoyance. “Nicolette Holland is sixteen years old. She’s got a stepfather who doesn’t want her talking to you. Ergo, no conversation.”
“She’s not the most obedient daughter on earth.”
“She is now. And I don’t want you pissing her off. She’s told her story, and we don’t want it to change.”
“What story?”
“I’m telling you this, and all you do is nod and listen. Can you do that?”
“Yes, sir.”
He smiles. “Cute girl. She says you got to California, frantic to warn her that people were after her. That was her word, ‘frantic.’ To quote her”—he digs around in the files he wheeled in here—“?‘Like I didn’t already know people were after me? Why did he think I was hiding, for fun?
“?‘Jack was all, Hello, Nicolette, I was sent here to off you, but never fear, I’m Dudley Do-Right.
“?‘Then I explain it was Steve behind the whole thing, and Jack’s all, Oh no, it was Karl Yeager; my brother said it was Karl Yeager; your dad would never do that. And I say, Really, do you know Steve? Did you hear what he said?
“?‘I’m such an idiot.
“?‘Jack’s whole thing was, he didn’t want me to go into my house. After I convinced him it was Steve who was after me. But I made him take the gun. To protect me from Steve. Turns out he was lucky to have that gun because Alex Yeager would have killed us, right? That was a really big knife.’?”
I look Mr. Ferro dead in the eyes. “That isn’t how it happened.”
“It is now. You tried to give her, and I quote, ‘a bunch of money.’ And you offered to buy her, wait, this gets good, ‘a rubber plantation’ in Argentina.”
I start to speak but Mr. Ferro puts a finger to his lips. “That’s what she says happened. No one believes her. But if she keeps saying it, they can’t prosecute you.”
I say, “But the guy in the parking lot—”
“What guy in what parking park? There’s no police report. She says she stabbed a would-be rapist, but her psychologist thinks it’s the pressure of captivity speaking.”
“They think she was my captive?”
Mr. Ferro massages the bridge of his nose and scans the transcript. “She says not. The party line is you’re a misguided saint who had her stashed away to save her, and she’s a spitfire who thought she was in mortal danger.”
“She was in mortal danger.”
“Not,” Mr. Ferro says, “from you.”
I shrug.
“Look, Jackson—”
“Jack.”
“I know you’re not as stupid as she’s making you out to be, and I know it wasn’t this clear-cut. But this girl is your fairy godmother. Don’t mess this up.” Ferro shakes his head. “And Jack, no guns. Your name is Manx. You can’t go near a gun.”
This is the one thing he doesn’t have to worry about, and not because of what my name is.
87
Nicolette
I beg Steve to let me call up Jack, but it’s a no.
Steve says, “These people aren’t joking. That one with the squinty eyes who asked you why you told your boyfriend to shoot me, he has handcuffs and keys to the jailhouse. Do you understand me?”
“Yes.”
“Are you crossing your fingers?”
“No! You know I would never, ever, ever do something like that to you. You know that, right?”
Steve puts the arm I didn’t wreck around me. “He’s not a great shot. But I know the difference between an accident and a target. I was the accident.”
“And there’s no way—?”
“Ask fifty times, it’s still no. Ask a hundred times, no. Cry and breathe into a grocery bag, no. And forget about the French doors. Welded shut for all the good they’re going to do you.”
“Who’s waving the keys to the jailhouse now?”
“You’re not throwing your life away on a Manx boy. One of them blackmails the other to kill my little girl? They’re scum. I’m sending you back to the counselor. Don’t say no, it’s yes. Say yes.”
I say yes.
I want my life back. This is how to get it.
88
Jack