Perhaps, if she remained calm and cooperative, the police would agree for her to call Mirabella’s boutique one last time from their landline and try to find out the truth about her sister, before she was taken into custody. If she explained her situation to Mirabella, maybe the boutique owner would relent and pass on a message to Jacqui, if she was still alive.
One phone call. Surely that would be allowed? The detective didn’t seem aggressive, although she wasn’t certain what her rights were and how the process worked. Cassie decided this would be the favor she would bargain or even beg for, as it would be her last chance to complete the quest she had embarked on.
Detective Falcone finished setting out her notes and looked up.
Cassie forced herself to meet the other woman’s intense gaze, staring into her dark brown eyes.
“I had an interesting talk with Nonna,” she said. “We were hoping for an eyewitness account of what occurred.”
Cassie managed a faint nod. Her stomach was churning audibly.
“I would like to hear your version again, and this time as true and accurate as you can make it. Please don’t keep lying to me, as it will count against you. In a criminal court, the judge will often give a reduced sentence to people who make an honest confession, and believe me when I tell you that this is your best course of action now.”
A reduced sentence. Cassie knew Nonna’s words had sealed her guilt. This had gone beyond suspicion and into the territory of serious crime.
How much of a lesser sentence would a confession earn? It wouldn’t exonerate her completely. Would it mean only a few months off the prison term, or would her jail time be significantly reduced? Cassie didn’t think the detective would tell her if she asked. Perhaps she didn’t know herself.
Cassie looked down at her hands. They were clasped together so tight her fingers were aching. If she confessed, Falcone might allow her to call the boutique and make one last attempt to trace her sister. She remembered her earlier thoughts about being calm and cooperative. Now was the time to put them into action.
Cassie looked up at the detective and started to speak. She got the word, “I” out and then she saw a tiny sign, the smallest of tells, something she never thought she’d be perceptive enough to pick up in such a life-and-death situation, after all hope had vanished.
She saw an uncharacteristic flash of eagerness in the detective’s eyes.
Cassie faked a sudden cough, and then took a drink of water from the glass on the table, buying herself a few moments, frantically trying to work out what this meant.
There might be a chance—the tiniest of possibilities—that Falcone was bluffing. Cassie had seen yesterday how Nonna’s mental clarity seemed to come and go suddenly, like a flickering flame. What if she’d been incoherent with Falcone, or else had given a patchy story that didn’t make complete sense?
Cassie decided she was going to take the risk.
She was going to stick to her original story, clinging to the desperate hope that there was no useful testimonial to counter it.
“I already told you what happened,” she said. Her voice was husky and breathless, but the words were clear enough for the tape recorder to pick up. “I know I was upset, and my story was rather confused, but it was as accurate as I could remember. I don’t know what you want me to confess to. I don’t understand what you’re implying at all.”
Falcone gave nothing away. She remained completely impassive as she spoke again.
“I am giving you one final chance,” she said.
Cassie decided she was in way too deep to go back.
“I already told you what happened,” she repeated, and this time her voice sounded firmer.
The detective gave a small nod.
“I was unable to get a clear version of events from Nonna,” she said.
Cassie held her breath, feeling the hard, fast pounding of her heart in her chest. She had been so close to breaking and confessing. This could have gone so differently, and she feared it still might. She found she was waiting for the detective to say, “But—” and for the bombshell to fall regardless.
“It took me a long time to explain that her daughter had died, and I am still not sure that she fully understands. At the same time, I believe she was trying to tell me something important about last night, but she kept veering off track. She seems delusional, although I have no doubt that she has moments of coherence,” Falcone continued.
Pulling herself together, using every scrap of the mental resolve she’d tried to summon earlier, Cassie was able to keep her voice steady while she replied.
“She’s been like that since she arrived. I’m not sure who Stefano is. Her late husband, perhaps? Anyway, she kept asking for him last night.”
“Due to the extent of her dementia, I doubt that her testimony would hold up in court. She could certainly not be cross-examined, so we would be unable to call her up as a witness.”
“I see,” Cassie said. Her voice sounded toneless and flat, but at least it wasn’t shaking.
“Additionally, both the girls claim that they witnessed the fall, and that it was accidental.”
Cassie nodded. Her mouth felt so dry she couldn’t even swallow. What was the detective going to say now? How was she going to incriminate her?
“The board of directors of Rossi Shoes is anxious for closure and for this to be resolved without damage to the brand. My team and I are
