“Thank fuck, Tommy.” He walks us back inside and we stand in the foyer. Aunt Linda is setting dishes down on the table and Elle’s strapping Angelo into his high chair.
Vince lowers his voice and reminds me, “No one can know about this. You know that, right?”
“Of course I know.” I nod my head as I watch the scene in front of me unfold as though I’m not even there.
I watch in a daze as Elle sings in an upbeat voice to Angelo. “Sitting in my high chair, my chair, high chair. Sitting in my high chair, banging my spoon!” She bangs on the tray in rhythm to the words, and the little one squeals with joy.
Vince is saying something, but all I can hear is Elle. The happiness in her voice, the love in her words. I want Tonya to have that. She deserves that. I could give it to her. I should go to her and beg for her to take me back. I’d give her the world. I’d change for her. I swear I would.
She asked me for one thing, and I never even gave it to her. All this time I could’ve told her. I should’ve told her that Petrov’s dead. But I didn’t.
“Jesus, Tommy! Are you even listening to me?” Vince’s voice snaps me out of it and I turn to look at him. I feel all choked up like a little bitch.
“You gotta get your shit together,” he says.
“Yeah, I know, boss.”
“I’m talking to you as family, Tommy. What the fuck is wrong with you? You should be happy. The charges were dropped. You’re a free man, but you look like death.”
I shake my head, not knowing how to tell him. I look back at my cousin and know that I can’t. You don’t leave the familia. Well, there’s one way to leave.
I turn my head back to Elle as Vince leaves me with a pissed-off sigh.
“Bring on the carrots, bring on the peas,” she lowers her voice, “Somebody feed this baby, please.”
Both she and her baby laugh. My eyes drop to the floor.
I don’t deserve Tonya. I won’t ever be able to give her that. I'm only going to bring her more pain or worse...
Tonya
I feel like hell, I look like hell; I’m fucking living in hell. I’m in a meeting with half a dozen cops going over the portfolio of several suspects in the investigation. There have been three reports of missing women in the upper east side suburb over the last two months, all fitting the same description.
I can’t even look at their pictures. Melissa was a tall blonde with dark brown eyes. These women look nothing like her. Yet I only see her face. She’s staring back at me. And I can’t face her. I have nothing. I’ve come this far, for nothing.
“I wish we’d known when the other women were abducted.” For some reason I blurt out the words, and Harrison pauses his presentation.
“Which women?” Jerry asks from my left. “All their data is in the portfolio.”
I shake my head. “The twelve. Petrov’s dozen.” That’s what they named them at the station. It’s what the media used when they released the story. I hate it. I hate the name. Each woman was her own person, with her own name. But that’s how they’re referred to here. And I’ve been trying the 'fake it till you make it' approach. So I’ll do what’s expected and call them that. But I hate it.
“What do you mean? We knew,” Carl answers from across the table. He’s an officer like me, with a few years of experience under his belt. But a nice guy in general. He’s got a wife and two kids. One’s in middle school and the other is in kindergarten. I stare at him blankly, thinking I must’ve heard wrong. We didn’t know Petrov’s men had them. We had eyes on two locations. We were waiting for him to be seen so we could arrest him. We had enough against the other men, three were wanted in multiple countries. We left them as bait for Petrov. But we didn’t know about the women until the day we found them.
“You were a bit wet behind the ears, so you weren’t in on that intel, but we had eyes on a Felipe Barros.”
Harrison continues for Carl, and I look between the two of them with a mixture of disbelief, hate, and disgust. “It was important that we waited until Petrov was spotted so that we could link him to the abductions.”
“You knew where the women were located?” I ask in a voice I don’t recognize. It’s almost like I’m watching the scene, rather than participating.
Jerry puts his hand on my forearm in an attempt to placate me, but I pull away and stare at him. “We felt it was best since you were new on the case to keep you in the dark on some aspects. We were planning on telling you, but everything just happened so fast.”
They knew. I look around the table and everyone’s eyes are on me.
“You all knew?”
“Not about all of them. We had reason to believe that three of the women were being held at their headquarters,” Harrison says.
“But you didn’t go in?” I look at him with confusion.
“We couldn’t risk the operation,” Harrison responds simply.
“But we could’ve saved them.”
“We did.” Harrison speaks up and I find myself biting my tongue. We didn’t save anyone.
“What about Georgia Stevens?” I ask them with a dull voice.
“Which one is that?” Carl asks. My eyes bore into his skull.
“She was the victim in Abram’s car,” Jerry answers to my left. I clench my teeth and feel the tears prick at my eyes, waiting for an answer that doesn’t come.
“Did you know?” I look Harrison in the eyes, and he has the decency to look ashamed.
“We knew,” he answers after a moment, and it’s the last nail in the coffin. I lose all sense of composure.
“You didn’t look for her? You didn’t try to save her?” My breathing picks up, and I have to try hard to keep it steady.
“Petrov would’ve been a big fish to catch. The number of crimes and murders we could’ve stopped--” Harrison speaks calmly and with conviction, but that’s not enough for me.
I cut him off and raise my voice as I ask, “One woman wasn’t enough? How many women would have been worth it to step in?” Tears slip down my cheeks.
“We were keeping an eye on their location--” Carl starts to respond and I cut him off, too.
“Oh, so was she dead before, or after he shoved her in the trunk?” The room goes silent, and the only thing I can hear is the pounding of my heart in my chest.
“We did everything that we could--” Jerry starts to give me an excuse, but I’m not having it.
“Don’t fucking lie to me.” I’m so angry I’m shaking. I pound both of my fists on the table as my voice cracks. They knew, and did nothing. My heart beats too hard, my blood rushes too fast. “Why wasn't she good enough?” I feel my heart twist in my chest. Would Melissa have been good enough? Would they have saved her? Tears leak from my eyes as multiple people start talking over one another to justify their actions. This happens. Sacrifices are made. I know this. But it's not okay.
I stare into Harrison's eyes as I inform him, “She had a son.” I don't bother wiping the tears off my face. I'm too far gone for this. “What if it had been your mother? Or your sister?” I yell out my questions so loud it makes my throat sore. I see Jerry reaching out for me from the corner of my eye. I stand up from the table and my chair falls back. I almost stumble over it, just trying to get out of the room.